Three months after the verdict, New York seemed simultaneously transformed and utterly unchanged.

For me, these months had been transformative. Ray had deployed all his resources like a bloodhound on a scent, tracking down and recovering every asset Liam and Chloe had scattered globally—down to the last cent.


More interestingly, the company shares Liam had purchased during our marriage using joint funds now belonged entirely to me. Overnight, I'd transformed from a "widow" who nearly lost everything into a significant board member of a publicly traded company.

My name and face began appearing regularly in Forbes and high-end business publications. "Phoenix Rising," "Wall Street's Dark Horse," "Betrayed Wife Turned Business Titan"—the media loved their dramatic headlines about me.

Today, I decided to visit Sing Sing Prison.


Not for closure or cheap sympathy. I simply wanted him to see, with his own eyes, how magnificently the woman he'd tried to destroy was now thriving.

I stood before my office's floor-to-ceiling windows, studying my reflection in the glass. My Chanel suit was impeccably tailored, a diamond brooch glittered at my collar, and a new Patek Philippe adorned my wrist.


I adjusted my smile in the reflection—confident, perfect, with just a hint of cold disdain.

Showtime.

—

The prison visiting room maintained its depressing institutional gray, the air heavy with disinfectant and despair.

I sat with practiced grace, set my handbag aside, and watched through bulletproof glass as guards escorted in a buzz-cut man in orange prison scrubs.

Liam froze when he saw me. His gaze traveled from my expertly styled hair to the diamond ring glittering on my finger, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

He'd lost weight and aged years. His once-practiced elegance and confidence had vanished completely, replaced by the hollow-eyed defeat of a broken man.

"What… are you doing here?" He picked up the receiver, his voice a dry rasp.

I deliberately took my time picking up my receiver, then offered him a dazzling smile. "Just checking in, Liam. And sharing some recent 'developments' in my life."

Watching his face tighten, I continued: "I've recovered all your hidden money—every last penny. Actually, I've substantially increased it. Thanks to you, I'm now a company director. Just yesterday, I closed an eight-figure deal."

"Shut up!" His breathing quickened visibly.

I ignored his outburst, continuing as if sharing amusing gossip. "I should thank you, really. Without your betrayal, I might never have discovered how fulfilling life could be without depending on anyone else."

I watched with satisfaction as his face cycled from white to green to red, delivering my most cutting words in my most casual tone. "Oh, and last week at the Sophia Fund gala, I met the most fascinating people. Goldman's VP invited me skiing in Aspen next month. Funny how much bigger the world seems without you in it."

Liam tried interrupting, but through the glass, his shouting was just pathetic, muffled noise.

I simply watched him, savoring every twitch of his agonized expression.

—

Just before he completely lost control, I stood up and looked down at him, preparing to deliver my coup de grâce.

"One last thing," I said casually. "About Chloe—you're probably wondering how she's doing."

Liam froze, staring at me with desperate intensity.

"She's having a rough time," I smiled. "All her contracts terminated, facing millions in breach penalties. She sold every bag and jewel she owned, but it barely made a dent. Now she's in some roach-infested Queens walkup, washing dishes to survive."

I leaned closer to the glass, dropping my voice to ensure every word struck like a dagger. "She got my new number somehow last week. Sent me paragraphs of desperate messages begging me to 'have mercy' and 'let her move on.'"

"I didn't even finish reading before deleting them," I said. "You and she are like dog shit I stepped in—once scraped off my shoe, not worth another thought. You've both been permanently deleted from my life."

"AHHHHH!"

Liam finally snapped. Like a rabid animal, he slammed his fists against the glass, howling incoherently. Alarms blared as guards rushed in, tackling him to the floor and pinning him down.

I watched him thrashing pathetically on the floor, my smile never wavering.

I smoothed my skirt, turned, and walked away with elegant, measured steps from this place of decay and desperation.

—

One month later, the Waldorf Astoria ballroom glittered with light and power.

As Business Newcomer of the Year, I stood in the spotlight in a stunning red Valentino gown, fielding media questions with practiced ease.

"Ava! How did you rise from the tragedy of your husband's 'death' to achieve such remarkable success?" A reporter thrust a microphone toward me.

I faced the cameras with a flawless smile. "Life only moves in one direction—forward. The past is just that—past."

Beside me, a handsome young executive handed me champagne, his eyes filled with undisguised admiration and interest.

Meanwhile, in a small, damp cell at Sing Sing Prison miles away…

Liam stared fixedly at a small television mounted on the wall. On screen: me being interviewed at the gala, resplendent in red, smiling radiantly, the handsome man hovering attentively beside me. Each image burned into his eyes like a branding iron.

"BANG!"

He slammed his fist into the screen with all his strength. The glass shattered, the image flickered, then went permanently dark.

Outside the cell, a guard heard the commotion, glanced in dispassionately, then continued his rounds without breaking stride.

In the darkness, only Liam's ragged, desperate breathing remained.

While in that brilliantly lit ballroom, my smile bloomed for the world to see.

I had won. Completely and utterly.