“That will be the last time you ever lay a hand on me.”
I grabbed my laptop and suitcase.
Then I walked out.
Jonathan followed me toward the front door.
“Just leave, then!” he shouted. “Let’s see how long you last out there without my money! You’ll be begging to come back!”
I turned around.
He still didn’t understand.
As I stepped outside, he immediately began calling my supposed landlord, demanding that I be removed from the apartment where he thought I lived.
He had no idea who actually owned that building.
I walked to the waiting car parked at the curb.
The driver opened the door.
I got inside and looked back at Jonathan standing beneath the porch light.
“You’ll have my divorce papers in the morning,” I told him.
“With what cheap lawyer?” he laughed.
I rolled up the window.
As the car pulled away, I opened my laptop.
Jonathan’s technology company, NexoCloud, was in serious trouble.
It had burned through most of its available cash.
Its lenders were getting impatient.
Payroll was approaching.
Several investors were demanding answers.
And a private equity firm was preparing to approve the enormous funding package that could keep the company alive.
That firm belonged to me.
Or more precisely, it belonged to the investment group I controlled.
The final approval was scheduled for the next morning.
I stared at Jonathan’s company profile on my screen.
For two years, I had watched him build NexoCloud.
I had admired his ambition.
I had even quietly recommended several introductions that helped him reach investors.
I had never taken credit.
I had wanted him to succeed on his own.
But that night, everything changed.
Jonathan hadn’t simply struck his wife.
He had struck the one person standing between his company and collapse.
And he had no idea what was coming.
PART 2
By the time I arrived at my penthouse, the bruising on my cheek had begun to darken.
My assistant, Evelyn, was waiting in the living room.
She looked at my face.
Then at the suitcase in my hand.
