Eight months after the divorce, my phone buzzed with his name. “Come to my wedding,” he said, smug as ever. “She’s pregnant—unlike you.” I froze, fingers tightening around the hospital sheet.

when they use someone else’s inheritance.”

Fiona’s face went entirely white, the color draining so fast her makeup looked like a pale mask. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Marcus,” I nodded toward my attorney.

Marcus stepped forward, opening the leather folder and pulling out three copies of the certified forensic audit. He handed one to Julian,continue reading …