a

ull, persistent ache behind my eyes. I was in a different room than before, smaller, with no windows. The

ust outside my door, their voices muf

ather's room," the orderly s

ty. "Dr. Luna signed the death certificate. Acute c

cover-up. They had killed him. They had truly killed him

orderly continued. "Just like the husband wanted. S

e small drawing I gave him as a child. All of it gone. Erased.

voice dropping. "Heard she went ballistic. Tried

was the crazy wife, mourning her father, who had lash

es were cold, indifferent. "Eat up," he grunted, placing the t

y voice cracked and dry. "I

? He shifted his weight. "He passed away last night. Acute cardiac arrest.

unconditionally. He was a victim of their cruelty, a pawn in their sadistic game. Every memory of him flashed thr

ight can be too brilliant for others to appreciate. Don't let their blindness make you doubt your own shine." He had warned me. He had seen Chris for what he was

s, carving paths through the dried blood on my temple. My body shook with the force of it, a raw, primal scream trapped in my chest. I b

I was told I could leave. They handed me a small plastic bag with the few belongings I had on m

ghost of my former self. My body was weak, but my resolve was so

ir. No Chris. No Kimberli. Just me, saying goodbye to the only true love I had ev

photographs. Even the small trinkets I had collected over the years. Nothing remained. The o

ris's Instagram. A recent post: a picture of him and Kimberli, sun-kissed and smiling, on a yacht in the Mediterra

heart, already shattered, splintered into a million more pieces. But this time, there was no pain, only a chilling void. My love

. He was wrong. He had only forged me into a weapon, sharpened by grief and betrayal. I had built Bell Dynamics with him. I knew

leather-bound folder. The prenup. It stipulated that in the event of a divorce, and under certain conditions, I retained

ris's success, a relic from a time when he was just a struggling entrepr

, every single lie, every single breath my father fought for. My revenge would be a symphony of destruction, a me