The sound of shattering crystal echoed like a gunshot across the sunlit courtyard of the Montgomery estate. Up on the second-floor balcony, Eleanor Montgomery stood frozen, her manicured fingers trembling where her champagne flute had just slipped from her grip.

By Monday morning, the financial markets were in absolute pandemonium.

The arrest of Eleanor and Ethan Montgomery, combined with the explosive unsealing of the underground vault documents, hit Wall Street like a seismic bomb. News networks buzzed with continuous coverage of the "Montgomery Dynasty Collapse," broadcasting live helicopter feeds of federal agents hauling boxes of evidence out of the Lake Geneva estate.

I sat at the head of the polished glass conference table on the fiftieth floor of Vance Global Tech’s downtown Chicago headquarters. The morning sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the sprawling skyline of the city I had conquered from a tiny apartment desk five years ago.

Julian slid a fresh tablet across the table toward me. "The board of directors of Montgomery Holdings has officially dissolved. Pursuant to the unsealed charter and your controlling trust, you are now the sole chairwoman and majority share-holder of the entire corporate conglomerate."

"And Victoria?" I asked, looking up from my coffee.

"She’s already down in the legal department," Julian smiled. "We’ve reinstated her rightful lineage, and she’s agreed to serve as the chief compliance officer for the new philanthropic division. She wants to help tear down the very system that tried to crush her family."

A soft knock interrupted our meeting. The heavy glass doors opened, and my executive assistant stepped in, her expression a mix of professional poise and suppressed amusement.

"Ms. Vance, you have a visitor in the lobby," she announced. "She insists on seeing you immediately. She says she’s an old friend."

I raised an eyebrow. "Who is it?"

"Caroline Hastings."

The name hung in the air like a bitter perfume. The senator’s daughter—the woman who had stood beside Ethan at the altar waiting to humiliate me—was now standing in my lobby, stripped of her high-society armor, her political alliance shattered, and her dream of marrying into the Montgomery fortune burned to ashes.

"Send her in," I said smoothly, leaning back in my leather chair. "Let’s see what a broken princess looks like up close."

Moments later, the heavy glass doors parted again. Caroline walked in, looking pale and exhausted. Her designer coat was rumpled, her hair pulled back into a simple, severe ponytail. Gone was the arrogant smirk she had worn on the wedding lawn. Now, she looked like a survivor of a shipwreck, washed up on a cold shore.

She stopped ten feet from my desk, her hands tightly clutching a designer handbag as if it were a life raft.

"Katherine," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

"Caroline," I replied, my tone flat, devoid of any warmth or mockery. "I’m surprised your father let you out of the house. I heard his senatorial campaign committee is currently under federal investigation for accepting illegal kickbacks from Ethan’s defunct shell companies."

Caroline flinched as if she had been physically struck. She swallowed hard, taking a slow, shaky step forward.

"My father’s career is over," she said quietly, her eyes filling with tears. "Our family name is ruined in D.C. Everyone we thought was a friend has blocked our numbers. We have nothing left."