A BOARDING PASS TO GENEVA

“It’s time, Miss Thorne,” the man repeated.

James spun around, the boarding pass crinkling in his fist. He recognized the man immediately. It was Elias, the terrifyingly efficient Chief of Staff for Marcus Thorne—the elusive billionaire CEO of the tech conglomerate where James was just a regional vice president.

James’s heart hammered against his ribs. He instinctively smoothed his tie. Elias being here could only mean the corporate office had caught wind of the scandal.

“Elias,” James said, stepping forward with a forced, professional smile. “I apologize for the disruption. This is a private family matter. I assure you, it won't affect the quarterly rollout—”

Elias didn’t even look at him.

He kept his eyes respectfully lowered toward Lucy, who was now being helped onto the gurney by the paramedics.

“The private elevator at Mount Sinai has been secured, ma’am,” Elias said to Lucy. “The entire maternity wing has been cleared. Marcus is waiting for you there.”

James stopped walking. The air left his lungs.

Ma’am? Marcus?

Since when did the Chief of Staff call his quiet, unassuming pregnant wife “ma’am”? And why was he referring to the untouchable CEO by his first name to her?

Lucy nodded weakly, her hand still resting protectively over her stomach. “Thank you, Elias. My mother will ride with me.”

“Of course,” Elias murmured.

As the paramedics wheeled Lucy toward the exit, Elias finally turned to look at James. The look of disdain on the older man’s face was so profound it made James take a physical step backward.

Elias reached inside his tailored jacket and pulled out a vintage leather portfolio. It was worn at the edges, bound by a thin leather strap. He held it out.

“Mr. Vance,” Elias said coldly. “You dropped this.”

“That’s not mine,” James stammered, his eyes darting to Delilah, who was now watching the exchange with wide, fearful eyes.

“Take it,” Elias commanded. The volume of his voice barely changed, but the authority in the room shifted entirely.

James took the portfolio. His hands were shaking. He pulled the leather strap loose and opened it. Inside was a stack of legal documents bearing the seal of the city's property registrar.

He read the top page. It was the deed to the $3 million penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park. The apartment James had secretly purchased three months ago for Delilah, using funds he had carefully siphoned from his bonus structure.

He had put the property in a blind trust to hide it from Lucy during the divorce.

But as James scanned the deed, his breath caught in his throat. The blind trust wasn’t listed as the owner.

The sole owner listed on the deed was Lucille Thorne Vance.

“How is this possible?” James whispered, the paper trembling in his hands. “I filed this through an offshore firm. I signed the papers myself.”

“You signed papers drafted by the company’s legal team,” Elias corrected him softly. “Every asset you have purchased since your marriage was automatically routed through Thorne Holdings’ asset protection protocols.”

James felt the room spinning. He looked at the boarding pass in his left hand, and the deed in his right.

“Wait,” James said, his voice cracking. “If Lucy owns the penthouse… who owns the bank accounts?”

Elias checked his platinum pocket watch, snapped it shut, and slipped it back into his vest.

“You have roughly three minutes to check your mobile banking app before the corporate lockout completes, Mr. Vance.”

At the back of the courtroom, Delilah let out a sharp gasp.

Her designer purse had been turned over by the bailiff for a security check. Falling from the silk lining of her bag was a heavy, metallic security badge.