63 Priscilla Vane dropped to one knee in front of my husband while three hundred investors watched.

The restaurant was quiet, dimly lit, and smelled faintly of truffle oil and old money.

I hadn't planned on coming, but when Julian Vance intercepted me outside my downtown loft building with a folder of documents and an urgent expression, curiosity had won out.

Julian sat across from me at a corner booth, looking decidedly less arrogant than he had at the Halcyon Grand gala. His expensive silk tie was slightly askew, and dark circles shadowed his eyes.

"I appreciate you taking the time, Elena," Julian said, clearing his throat and sliding a single piece of thick parchment across the white tablecloth. "I know there's bad blood between our families—or, well, former families."

I didn't touch the paper. I just looked at it. "Get to the point, Julian. I have a product launch meeting at 8:00 AM tomorrow."

Julian sighed, rubbing his temples. "Martin is completely unraveling. The DOJ expanded their inquiry into Vane Capital’s early-stage investments because of the paper trail he left behind. Priscilla dumped him the moment her father cut off her trust fund allowance. He’s living out of a mid-tier motel in Oakland, trying to sell his designer watches just to pay legal fees."

"And why is this my problem?" I asked, taking a slow sip of sparkling water.

"It’s not," Julian said quickly. "At least, not legally. But Martin... he’s desperate, Elena. He’s been threatening to go to the tabloid press with fabricated stories about how you stole the company code from him during your marriage."

I let out a short, cold laugh. "Let him. Every line of code in Solstice Dynamics is cryptographically signed with my personal biometric hash dating back to 2019. Any journalist who publishes his claims will face a defamation lawsuit so fast their head will spin."

Julian nodded grimly. "I know. I told him that. But desperate men do stupid things. He’s convinced himself that if he can just destroy your reputation, he can force a settlement."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table, my eyes locking onto Julian’s with an intensity that made the older investor shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"Julian, let me tell you something about Martin," I said softly. "He spent seven years hiding behind my brilliance because he knew he was hollow. He thought charm and a nice suit were enough to conquer Silicon Valley. He doesn't have the stomach for a real fight. If he tries to go to the press, let him. It will only accelerate his legal ruin."

Julian swallowed hard, realizing that the quiet woman he had patronized at the gala was entirely untouchable.