41 The day my divorce became final, my ex-husband walked out of the courthouse holding his pregnant mistress like he'd just won a prize, while his mother told me I'd never been good enough for him.

In the upscale enclave of Winnetka, the Whitmore estate resembled a tomb of shattered illusions.

Evan paced the length of the imported French limestone foyer, his phone pressed tightly against his ear, his face pale and slick with nervous sweat. "What do you mean, my corporate credit cards are locked? Call the fraud department! I’m the CEO!"

"Mr. Whitmore," a tired, bored voice replied from the corporate banking helpline. "Our system indicates your corporate access privileges were revoked at 9:15 AM by order of the majority trust holder, Clara Whitmore. You have a negative balance of twelve thousand dollars on your personal expense line. Have a nice day."

The line clicked dead.

Evan dropped his phone onto the entryway console, where it cracked against the marble surface. He stared at his reflection in the gilt-framed mirror—his hair disheveled, his expensive bespoke suit wrinkled from a sleepless night of panic and shouting.

"She’s bluffing," Barbara muttered from the living room doorway, clutching a crystal glass of scotch at 1:00 PM. Her face was pale, her fingers trembling as she took a sip. "She’s a weak, emotional girl. Once the board calms down, we’ll file an injunction. We’ll force an emergency shareholder vote."

"Mom, you didn't see her in that boardroom," Evan snapped, whirling around. "She wasn't emotional. She wasn't crying. She looked at me like I was a bug she was deciding whether or not to squash. The trust documents... she had them locked down for years. She let me play CEO while she held the guillotine cord the entire time."

The front door swung open, and Kelsey walked in, balancing two designer shopping bags from a high-end boutique on Michigan Avenue. Her face was flushed with excitement, her hand resting protectively over her slightly rounded stomach.

"Evan, darling, you wouldn't believe the nursery set I just saw at Saks," Kelsey bubbled, kicking off her Louboutin heels. "It’s imported French oak, only forty-five thousand dollars. I put it on your corporate card, but the clerk said it was declined. You need to call your finance guy; it’s embarrassing."

Evan stared at her—really stared at her—for the first time in months. He looked at the designer clothes, the diamond tennis bracelet, the expensive skincare products—all funded by corporate embezzling through his mother’s fake consulting firm.

"The corporate cards are locked, Kelsey," Evan said flatly.

Kelsey froze, the smile slipping off her face. "What do you mean, locked? Call them!"

"They aren't locked," a cold, sharp voice interrupted from the doorway.

Evan and Kelsey both spun around. Standing in the foyer was Marcus Vance, a senior partner at Whitmore Freight’s external legal counsel and Howard Vance’s son. He wasn't smiling. He held a thick manila envelope.

"Marcus," Evan said, forcing a brittle smile. "Thank God. You're here to help us sort out this boardroom misunderstanding?"

Marcus didn't step inside. He remained on the stone porch, holding out the envelope as if it carried a biohazard.

"I’m here to serve notice, Evan," Marcus said coldly. "Whitmore Freight has filed a formal civil complaint against you and Barbara Whitmore for grand larceny, corporate waste, and fraudulent misrepresentation totaling 2.8 million dollars. Additionally, the company is seeking an immediate asset freeze on all personal properties purchased with corporate funds, including this estate and the Gold Coast apartment."

Kelsey dropped her shopping bags. They hit the marble floor with a dull thud. "Asset freeze? Are you insane? I'm pregnant with his child! You can't freeze our accounts!"

Marcus looked at Kelsey with undisguised contempt. "Tell that to the forensic accountants, Ms. Monroe. Oh, and by the way..." He pulled a secondary document from his portfolio. "A subpoena for your financial records regarding third-party cash deposits over the past twelve months. Seems our auditors found some interesting wire transfers originating from a venture capital account in River North."