"The twentieth belt strike didn’t make me scream; Trevor’s smile did.He stood over me in our marble living room, breathing hard, the leather strap still trembling in his hand, while Renee leaned against the piano with a glass of red wine.

“Put me through to Federal Compliance and the District Attorney’s white-collar division,” I told the executive assistant who answered on the first ring.

Trevor lunged across the table, his hands outstretched to grab my phone, but a sharp crack echoed through the room as my father’s head of security—who had materialized in the hallway unnoticed—stepped forward and pinned Trevor’s arm behind his back with effortless, crushing precision.

“Let me go!” Trevor roared, thrashing against the guard’s grip. “You can’t do this! This is my house! I am the CEO of Vance Enterprises!”

“You were the CEO of Vance Enterprises,” I corrected him, standing up from my chair and smoothing down my sweater. “As of three minutes ago, the board of directors received an emergency packet detailing your corporate embezzlement, your fraudulent loan applications, and your misuse of investor funds. You aren’t a CEO anymore, Trevor. You’re a liability.”

Renee backed away toward the front door, her heels clicking frantically against the marble. “I have nothing to do with this! I’m leaving!”

“Door’s locked, Miss Miller,” the security agent at the entrance stated flatly, blocking her path with the calm authority of a man who had handled far worse than a panicked social climber.

Trevor glared at me, his face twisted in pure, venomous hatred. The mask of charm, the gentle laughter, the pretend devotion he had worn for seven years—all of it had peeled away, revealing the small, petty, frightened man underneath.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Trevor snarled, spittle flying from his lips. “You’re just a spoiled little rich girl playing house! Without me, you’re nothing! You would have died in that sterile mansion of yours of sheer loneliness if I hadn’t given you my name!”

I walked slowly around the dining table until I stood right in front of him. I didn't flinch. I didn't raise my voice.

“You didn’t give me a name, Trevor,” I whispered, looking straight into his bloodshot eyes. “You took a name I was hiding behind, and you proved to me why I should have never stayed in the dark. But don’t worry. You won’t have to worry about my loneliness anymore. You’ll have plenty of company in a federal penitentiary.”

The wail of police sirens began to wail in the crisp autumn air outside, growing louder with every passing second.

Renee broke down, collapsing into a heap on the floor near the piano, sobbing hysterically into her hands. Trevor slumped forward, the weight of his collapsing empire finally crushing him into total defeat.

When the front door burst open and local police officers, accompanied by federal agents, flooded into the house, Trevor didn’t fight back. He just stared at the floor, his lips moving silently in disbelief.

As an agent placed cold steel cuffs around his wrists and led him toward the door, Trevor looked back at me one last time.

“Please,” he muttered, his voice hollow. “Call your father. Tell him we can work something out.”