He introduced his new wife in front of everyone and had no idea the woman he called his ex was about to inherit a billion-dollar empire

Derek tore open his front door, stumbling onto the porch in his socks.

"Simone!" he yelled, his voice echoing across the quiet neighborhood. "What the hell is this? What did you do to my accounts?"

Simone didn't speed up her pace. She walked up the brick walkway, flanked by Julian Thorne on her left and two muscular men in dark suits on her right.

"Good morning, Derek," Simone said smoothly. She stopped at the bottom of the porch stairs, looking up at him through her dark lenses.

"Are you insane?" Derek demanded, pointing a trembling finger at her. "You called federal marshals on my business? Because of what happened last night? It was a misunderstanding!"

"It wasn't a misunderstanding, Derek," Simone said. She took off her sunglasses, revealing eyes that were entirely clear, devoid of the tears he had seen twelve hours earlier. "It was grand larceny, mail fraud, and bigamy."

"Bigamy?" Derek laughed nervously, looking around as if waiting for a hidden camera crew to appear. "We're separated! Everyone knows we're separated!"

"The State of North Carolina does not recognize oral separation when you continue to cohabitate, share a joint bank account, and file joint tax returns," Julian Thorne stepped forward, opening his leather briefcase. "Mr. Patterson, my name is Julian Thorne. I represent Vance Global Enterprises and Miss Simone Vance."

"Vance?" Derek repeated, his brow furrowing. "Her name is Carter. Who the hell is Vance?"

"Simone is the granddaughter and sole heir of Arthur Vance," Thorne said flatly. "As of midnight yesterday, she is the owner of this property, the underlying mortgage note on your corporate office building in South End, and sixty percent of the commercial debt held by your primary lender, First Horizon Bank."

Derek stared at Thorne, then at Simone. His brain refused to process the words.

"You're lying," Derek whispered. "Your grandfather was a hardware salesman in Ohio. You told me—"

"I told you what my mother told me," Simone said softly. "She wanted to protect me from his money. But my grandfather kept track of everything, Derek. Including the three hundred thousand dollars you embezzled from my mother's estate trust three years ago."

Derek’s face drained of color. "I didn't... that was an investment! I put that money into the South End project!"

"You put that money into an offshore account registered under the name of Candace Miller," Thorne corrected, pulling a thick stack of financial audits from his briefcase. "Which constitutes wire fraud across state lines. The United States Attorney for the Southern District of New York opened an official investigation forty-five minutes ago."

"Simone, please," Derek stepped down off the porch, his hands held out in a pleading gesture. The arrogance from the restaurant was completely gone, replaced by a desperate, rat-like fear. "We can talk about this! We've been together six years! I made a mistake... Candace meant nothing to me! It was just business!"

Simone looked at him—really looked at him—and realized she felt nothing. No anger, no love, no sorrow. Just a deep, profound disgust.

"You told twenty people I was a crazy ex-wife who wouldn't let go," Simone said. "You had security try to throw me into the rain."

"I was stressed!" Derek cried out. "The family was pressuring me! I didn't mean it!"

"My legal team has already served the notice of eviction on this house," Simone said, stepping past him toward the front door. "You have thirty minutes to collect your personal clothing. Everything else in this house—the furniture, the art, the cars in the garage—was purchased with funds derived from marital accounts and is currently subject to an immediate freeze."