He signed the divorce papers while his pregnant wife packed one suitcase, never knowing her father could buy his empire before breakfast

it all from the outside.

The woman he had trusted in strategy meetings, the woman he had walked into the Plaza beside, the woman he had mistaken for strength, had been protecting herself while encouraging him to burn his own house down.

He replayed every conversation with Savannah.

Her quiet warnings.

Her tired eyes.

The way she used to ask, “Are you sure continue reading …