"By the time my husband came home on Christmas morning, my wedding ring was lying beneath the tree, my hospital bag was gone, and the nursery door was standing wide open. Roman had spent years making half of Chicago afraid of him—but on Christmas Eve, while he was holding another woman downtown, his eight-and-a-half-months-pregnant wife finally became the one person he could no longer control. / Chapter 4 / 10

Chapter 4 - Christmas MorningThe sun rose over Lake Michigan on Christmas morning, painting the icy skyline in brilliant shades of frost and amber.

Back at the grand estate outside Chicago, Roman Carter was walking through the front door.

He had spent the early hours of the morning at Claire Bennett’s luxury penthouse, enjoying the illusion of a carefree bachelor lifestyle, completely unaware that his financial foundation had just been digitally dismantled by his pregnant wife.

He tossed his keys into the ceramic entryway bowl—the exact same gesture he had performed a thousand times before. He expected the house to be warm, quiet, and smelling of coffee, with a tired Savannah waiting patiently to hand him his morning gift and pretend nothing happened the night before.

Instead, the house was dead silent.

“Savannah?” Roman called out, loosening his silk tie as he stepped into the formal parlor.

No answer.

He walked toward the Christmas tree, expecting to see neatly wrapped boxes bearing his name.

Instead, resting alone in the exact center of the pristine white tree skirt, sat a single item: his heavy gold-and-diamond wedding band.

Roman’s brow furrowed in irritation. He bent down, picked up the ring, and turned it over in his palm. He walked into the kitchen, expecting to find Margaret preparing breakfast.

The kitchen was spotless. The counters were bare. A single handwritten note sat on the granite island:

The keys are on the counter. The lawyers will handle the rest. — Savannah.

A cold spike of adrenaline pierced Roman’s chest. He pulled out his phone, dialing my cell number immediately.

“The subscriber you have dialed is currently unavailable or out of service area. Please leave a message after the tone.”

“Damn it, Savannah,” Roman muttered, swiping to dial his corporate office line. “Answer your phone.”

Before the call could connect, his phone buzzed violently in his hand. It wasn't me. It was his chief financial officer, Arthur Vance—no relation to my cousin Marcus, though an equally stressed man.

“Arthur, what is it?” Roman barked, his voice rising in panic. “If this is about the zoning permits, handle it.”

“Mr. Carter, we have a catastrophic emergency,” Arthur’s voice shrieked through the speaker, breathless and trembling. “Every single corporate credit line has been slapped with an immediate administrative freeze by the federal banking clearinghouse. Our primary operating accounts show a zero-balance hold due to an emergency forensic audit filed under Section 41 of the federal fraud code!”

Roman froze, his phone slipping slightly in his sweaty palm. “A forensic audit? Who authorized an audit? That’s impossible without my signature!”

“Sir, it wasn’t just your signature,” Arthur stammered frantically. “The primary injunction was filed using the co-guarantor credentials registered under Mrs. Carter’s name. She holds fifty-one percent controlling interest in the primary holding trust!”

The room seemed to tilt sideways beneath Roman’s feet.

He stared at the gold wedding ring sitting in his palm, finally realizing the true magnitude of what he had done.