MY HUSBAND ABANDONED ME IN LABOR FOR HIS MOTHER’S BIRTHDAY DINNER, BUT WHEN HE WALKED IN THREE DAYS LATER, HE COLLAPSED IN HORROR SEEING THE REAL IDENTITY OF THE MAN CRADLING OUR NEWBORN SON

At 1:45 p.m., Rowan Carter arrived at the gleaming glass-and-steel headquarters of Miller & Hayes Architecture in Midtown Manhattan.

He was running on twenty-four hours of zero sleep, four cups of bitter espresso, and three tranquilizers provided by his mother. He had spent the entire morning receiving frantic phone calls from credit card companies notifying him that his accounts were frozen pending forensic review. His leased Porsche had been repossessed from his driveway at 8:00 a.m. due to fraudulent lease documentation, forcing him to take a crowded subway to the office in his three-thousand-dollar suit.

Yet, despite the panic clawing at his chest, Rowan still clung to one desperate shred of delusion.

If I can just secure the Hudson Yards partnership today, he told himself as he smoothed his silk tie in the elevator mirror, the firm will make me a full equity partner. I'll make two million a year. I won't need Phoebe. I won't need Gideon Sterling.

The elevator chime rang on the forty-second floor. Rowan stepped out into the expansive mahogany-lined corridor, heading toward the main boardroom.

His junior associate, Derek, rushed toward him, pale and sweating. "Rowan! Where have you been? Hayes called an emergency executive board meeting twenty minutes ago. All the senior partners are inside. The atmosphere in there is like a funeral."

Rowan sneered, patting Derek on the shoulder with unearned bravado. "Relax, Derek. Hayes probably called the meeting to announce our promotion. Sterling Capital is finalizing their sixty-million-dollar funding round today. I’m the architect who brought this firm to the table."

Rowan pushed open the frosted double glass doors of the boardroom, flashing his most charismatic, million-dollar smile.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen! Apologies for the slight delay, the Midtown traffic was—"

The words died in his throat.

Sitting at the head of the massive twenty-foot marble conference table was Arthur Hayes, trembling so violently that the pen in his hand rattled against his leather notepad. Seated around the perimeter were the firm’s eight senior equity partners, all staring at Rowan with expressions of unbridled fury and disgust.

And sitting directly opposite Arthur Hayes, commanding the entire room with regal authority, was me.

I wore a charcoal tailored Saint Laurent power suit, my dark hair pulled back into a flawless, sleek ponytail. Resting on the marble table in front of me were twelve identical blue binders, each stamped with the seal of Sterling Global Forensic Investigations.

Beside me sat Marcus Vance and two plainclothes special agents from the New York State Attorney General’s Financial Crimes Division.

"P-Phoebe?" Rowan whispered, the air escaping his lungs in a ragged gasp. He gripped the back of an empty leather chair to keep from collapsing. "What are you doing here?"

"Sit down, Mr. Carter," Arthur Hayes barked, his face flushed red with rage. "Sit down and shut your mouth."

Rowan sank into the nearest chair, his eyes darting between the senior partners and the blue binders. "Arthur, what is the meaning of this? Is this about the Hudson Yards presentation? I have the updated blueprints in my briefcase—"

"Shut up, Rowan!" Arthur yelled, slamming his hand onto the table. "You lied to us! You told this board that your wife was an orphan from upstate New York with no connections! You told us that you were the one who had personal access to the Sterling Capital executive committee!"

"I... I was simply representing our interests—"

"You committed multi-million-dollar corporate embezzlement under our firm’s license, you arrogant idiot!" Hayes roared, tossing a blue binder across the marble surface until it slammed into Rowan’s chest. "Open page fourteen! Look at the wire transfers to your shell company in Delaware!"

Rowan opened the binder with trembling hands. His eyes scanned the exact transaction IDs, dates, IP addresses, and bank routing numbers documenting every single dollar he had skimmed from the firm.

"This... this is an accounting error," Rowan stammered, sweat pouring down his forehead, soaking his white collar. "Phoebe made this up! She’s trying to destroy me because we're having marital problems! She's bitter because I missed the birth of our baby!"

I leaned forward, clasping my hands elegantly on the table, fixing Rowan with a cold, unyielding gaze.

"You didn't miss the birth of your son because of a misunderstanding, Rowan," I said, my voice cutting through the tension like a razor. "You abandoned your wife in labor because you were dining on stolen corporate funds at Le Petit Châtelet."

I turned my attention to Arthur Hayes and the Board of Directors.

"Gentlemen, as the primary managing director of Sterling Global Capital, I am officially notifying you that our sixty-million-dollar investment facility is contingent upon one immediate action: the immediate termination of Rowan Carter for gross criminal misconduct, the total forfeiture of his shares, and the immediate handover of these files to the Special Agents seated beside me."

Arthur Hayes didn't even hesitate. He stood up, looking at Rowan as if he were a diseased rodent.

"Rowan Carter, you are terminated effective immediately. Building security has already cleared your desk into cardboard boxes. Get out of my sight before I physically throw you out of this building."

The two AG agents stood up, flashing their gold badges. "Mr. Carter, you'll need to come with us for preliminary questioning regarding wire fraud and tax evasion."

Rowan looked at me, tears of pure terror finally spilling down his cheeks. "Phoebe... please. I'm Leo's father. You can't do this to me. Think of our family!"