The divorce petition sat on his desk, a declaration of war he hadn't seen coming. The

searching for the clue he had missed. Where did she get the audacity? The resources? The woma

ntercom button o

ed in the doorway al

ously quiet. "Financials, digital footprint, hidden assets, known associates. Use the Omega team. I wan

e Omega team-the firm's most discreet and ruthle

he returned, holding a single,

credit score before she married you, no criminal record. But everything deeper-school records, family financials, digital archives from before five year

onally erased past. The unease in his stomach coi

lert. He glanced at the sc

on a major gossip site. The h

havior Caused Marital Rift. Donovan

unstable, manipulative woman with a history of public outbursts and dramatic, self-harm threats used to control those

's fingerprin

down and smiled. The article was perfect. It was the opening salvo. She would destro

not smiling. She was pacing th

nger at the laptop screen. "Gisela is a snake!

under her, a cup of tea in her hands. She looked a

a waste of time," she said.

hone and dialed a n

" she said,

nor fashion blog. A tweet from a stylist. The

ded with a tantalizing hint: Rumor has it, the mysterious designer 'C.' will be making a rare public appe

a significant sponsorship slot for this year's gala has been purchased by the anony

buried under an avalanche of speculation about the enigmatic 'C.' Who was

r of unease. She had an invitation to the Met Gala

he Met Gala. He didn't care about fashion. He didn't

file on his computer. Clem

is head, a self-deprecating smile on his lips. He was l

ing app. He had a different gala to thin

. We nee

push his revenge plan forward. He was still in c

sharp and cold, pierced his certainty. The puppet h