The first thing my premature twins heard after entering the world wasn’t my voice.

Two weeks after the spectacle at the Plaza Hotel, the chill of late November settled heavily over Manhattan.

I sat behind an expansive walnut desk on the sixty-fourth floor of the Sterling Tower overlooking Central Park. Sunlight poured through the panoramic glass, illuminating architectural blueprints for the new *Liam and Chloe Sterling Neonatal Research Pavilion*—a ninety-million-dollar state-of-the-art facility we were breaking ground on next spring.

A gentle knock sounded at the double mahogany doors.

Alexander Cross entered, holding a manila file. He looked impeccably tailored in a charcoal three-piece suit, his sharp features relaxed into an expression of quiet satisfaction.

"Good morning, Madam Chairwoman," Alexander said, a rare, genuine smile playing on his lips.

"Good morning, Alexander," I replied, setting down my pen. "Tell me you have updates."

Alexander pulled out a leather armchair, sitting across from me. "Dominic’s bail hearing concluded an hour ago at the Manhattan Criminal Court."

"And?"

"Bail was denied," Alexander said smoothly. "Given the severity of the counterfeit medical charges and the flight risk posed by his offshore accounts—which the Department of Justice has now successfully seized—Judge Martinez remanded him to Rikers Island pending trial. He’s in general population."

I leaned back in my leather chair, letting the reality of that sink in. Rikers Island. For a man who used to throw tantrums if his five-hundred-dollar dress shirts were pressed with light starch instead of medium.

"And his legal representation?"

"Public defender," Alexander chuckled. "Craig Belmont filed a formal motion to withdraw, citing non-payment of over eighty thousand dollars in legal fees. Dominic has no liquid assets left. The Mercedes was repossessed yesterday by the leasing company. The Secaucus motel kicked him out for non-payment before his arrest."

"And Natalie?" I asked.

Alexander opened the manila folder, sliding a series of surveillance photographs across the desk.

"Miss Reyes is currently waiting in the executive lobby on the ground floor," Alexander said, his tone turning dry. "She’s been down there for three hours, begging the security guards to let her see you."

I looked at the photographs. Natalie looked completely unrecognizable. Dressed in oversized, faded sweatpants and a dirty winter coat, her face gaunt, her eyes hollow and dark.

"She thinks she can negotiate," Alexander explained. "Julian Hayes served her with a formal restraining order and denied paternity of her unborn child yesterday. Julian’s high-powered legal team made it clear: if she attempts to file a paternity suit, they will bury her in defamation and extortion lawsuits until she’s bankrupt. She has nowhere left to turn."

I closed the file with a soft snap. "Bring her up, Alexander."

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure, Audrey? You don't owe that woman ten seconds of your time."

"I know I don't," I replied calmly. "Which is precisely why I want to see her. Bring her up. Alone."

Ten minutes later, the heavy office doors clicked open.

Natalie stepped into the sprawling executive suite, her shoulders hunched, clutching a battered faux-leather purse against her bulging stomach. She looked around the massive office—the marble fireplace, the original Monet hanging on the wall, the panoramic view of the Manhattan skyline—with a sickening mixture of envy, terror, and desperation.

She stopped five feet from my desk, her lower lip trembling.

"Audrey..." Natalie rasped, her voice thin and raspy.

I did not stand up. I did not offer her a chair. I simply rested my hands on the polished walnut desk and looked at her.

"Miss Reyes," I said evenly. "You have three minutes. What do you want?"

Natalie collapsed onto her knees right there on the Persian rug, bursting into hysterical tears, just as Dominic had done outside the NICU.

"Audrey, please!" she wept, pressing her hands together in prayer. "I'm so sorry! I swear to God, I’m so sorry! Dominic lied to me! He manipulated me! He told me you were an abusive, cold woman who was holding him back! He told me he was divorcing you anyway!"

"Is that why you put on my custom cashmere coat?" I asked, my voice dangerously soft. "The coat with my children's initials embroidered inside the collar? Did Dominic manipulate you into touching the fabric and telling me I wouldn't be needing it anymore?"

Natalie choked on her breath, her face turning bright red with shame. "I... I was stupid! I was arrogant! I didn't know who you were!"

"You only regret your cruelty because I turned out to be powerful, Natalie," I said coldly. "If I had truly been a penniless, broken orphan, you would have happily watched me and my premature babies starve in the winter cold while you lived in that penthouse."

"I have nothing, Audrey!" Natalie shrieked, clutching her belly. "Julian kicked me out! He threatened to destroy me! Dominic is in prison! My parents in Ohio won't speak to me! I have four hundred dollars left in my bank account and nowhere to sleep tonight! My baby... my baby doesn't have a father!"

She pulled a crumpled white envelope from her purse, crawling forward, trying to push it onto the edge of my desk.

"I have Dominic’s personal journals!" Natalie cried desperately. "I have his personal thumb drives! The ones he kept hidden under the floorboards in the office! They have the private bank account numbers in Switzerland! The feds haven't found them yet! I’ll give them to you, Audrey! All of them! Just... please... give me two hundred thousand dollars. Just enough to get an apartment and have this baby!"

I looked at the crumpled envelope on the mahogany wood. Then, I looked down at Natalie.

I pressed the silver intercom button on my desk. "Alexander."

The side door opened immediately. Alexander Cross walked in, accompanied by two armed private security guards.

"Audrey, please!" Natalie screamed, panic lacing her voice as she saw the guards. "I'm giving you his secret accounts! You can take everything he has left!"

"I already have everything he has left, Natalie," I said, leaning forward. "Alexander’s forensic team retrieved Dominic’s Swiss accounts five days ago. The Department of Justice seized those funds yesterday morning at 9:00 AM."

Natalie stared at me, her eyes glazed with absolute, irreversible horror.

"You came here hoping to sell out your former lover to save your own skin," I said, my voice cutting through her like a scalpel. "Just as you slept with his investor behind his back. You are a parasite who feeds on whoever you think has the biggest wallet."

I stood up, walking slowly around the desk until I stood above her.

"I will not give you two hundred thousand dollars," I said clearly. "I will not give you two hundred cents. But because I am a mother, and because that unborn child inside you did not choose to have a monster for a mother, I will make you one offer."

Natalie looked up, a faint, desperate glimmer of hope lighting her red eyes. "Anything... Audrey, anything..."

"Alexander has drawn up an admission of medical fraud and corporate conspiracy," I said. "You will sign a full, sworn confession detailing every single conversation, every single transaction, and every single meeting you witnessed between Dominic and the Shenzhen manufacturers."

"And... and in return?" Natalie breathed trembling.

"In return," I said, "the Sterling Foundation will pay for your delivery at a county hospital in Ohio, under Medicaid coverage. And we will provide a bus ticket to your parents' hometown. Nothing more. Nothing less."

Natalie’s mouth fell open. "A bus ticket? To Ohio? I can't go back there! Everyone knows what I did! I was supposed to be a Manhattan socialite!"

"You were a junior marketing assistant who thought cruelty was a currency," I corrected coldly. "Take the bus ticket, Natalie. Because if you refuse to sign that confession, Alexander will hand over the security footage of you destroying my personal property at the penthouse to the Manhattan District Attorney within the hour. And you can give birth in a prison infirmary right across the river from Dominic."

Natalie looked at Alexander. Alexander tapped a pen against a legal clipboard, his face an impenetrable wall of granite.

Sobbing so hard she could barely breathe, Natalie reached out her trembling, unmanicured hand.