AT OUR DAUGHTER’S $400,000 WEDDING AT THE PIERRE IN NEW YORK, MY HUSBAND SEATED HIS MISTRESS IN THE MOTHER-OF-THE-BRIDE CHAIR AND TOLD ME TO SIT IN THE BACK—BUT WHEN OUR DAUGHTER SAW WHO WAS SITTING BESIDE HER FATHER, SHE STOPPED WALKING DOWN THE A

I stared at the caller ID.

Richard.

I hadn't spoken to him since he was arrested in the hotel kitchen. I almost declined the call, but a quiet, vindictive part of me wanted to hear his voice now that I had won.

I answered, pressing the phone to my ear. “Hello, Richard.”

“Diane,” his voice sounded hollow, stripped of all its former arrogance. He sounded like a broken, terrified old man.

“Calling to check on your life insurance policy?” I asked dryly.

A heavy sigh echoed through the receiver. “I know you stopped Elias. The FBI just walked into my cell and added federal racketeering charges to my embezzlement indictment. They said Elias flipped on the Maroni family after you set him up with tracked diamonds.”

“I guess Arthur isn't the only one who talks too much,” I replied coldly.

“Where did you get diamonds, Diane?” Richard asked, genuinely bewildered.

“From the woman you thought was senile,” I said. “My mother left them for me. She knew exactly what kind of man you were.”

Silence hung on the line.

“Blair is in the cell block next to mine,” Richard finally said, his voice laced with bitter regret. “She tried to sell my passwords to Elias. They arrested her for wire fraud and conspiracy. She’s blaming the entire thing on me.”

“There really is no loyalty among thieves,” I noted, quoting Elias.

“Diane, please,” Richard begged, desperation bleeding into his words. “I’m facing twenty years. I won't survive in here. Call Arthur. Tell him you’ll drop the corporate charges if I sign my remaining shares of the company over to you. You can have everything.”

“I already have everything, Richard,” I said calmly. “I have my daughter. I have my dignity. And I have a fortune you will never touch.”

“Diane, thirty-three years!” Richard pleaded, playing his final, pathetic card. “Doesn't that mean anything to you?”

“It means I wasted thirty-three years,” I said softly. “But I’m not wasting another second.”

I hung up the phone.

I blocked his number.

The next morning, the news hit the Chicago papers like a hurricane.

The CEO of a major real estate firm, his mistress, and several high-ranking members of the Maroni crime family had been indicted in a massive, multi-million dollar sting operation.

Arthur called me, completely ecstatic. The company’s board of directors had officially fired Richard, removed his name from the building, and appointed Arthur as the new CEO. Arthur offered me a position as the Chief Financial Officer, with a massive equity stake in the company.

I accepted immediately.

Three months passed.

Life settled into a beautiful, peaceful routine. I sold the large, empty suburban house I had shared with Richard and bought a stunning, modern penthouse overlooking Lake Michigan. I decorated it exactly how I wanted, without having to compromise or justify my choices.

Sophie and Daniel returned from their honeymoon glowing with happiness. They bought a small starter home in the suburbs, and I spent my weekends helping them paint the nursery. Sophie was pregnant with my first grandchild.

One Sunday afternoon, Sophie came over for brunch. We sat on the balcony of my penthouse, drinking mimosas and looking out over the water.

“You look amazing, Mom,” Sophie smiled, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “You look... lighter.”

“I feel lighter, sweetheart,” I admitted, taking a sip of my drink. “For the first time in my life, I don't feel like I’m carrying someone else’s baggage.”

Sophie looked down at her glass, her expression turning slightly serious.

“Dad’s sentencing hearing is tomorrow,” she said quietly.

I nodded. I knew. I had received the subpoena, but the prosecutor told me I didn't need to testify unless I wanted to.

“Are you going to go?” Sophie asked.

“No,” I said firmly. “I’ve said everything I needed to say to him.”

“Good,” Sophie smiled, looking relieved. “I’m not going either. I don't want that negativity near the baby.”

She reached into her purse and pulled out a small, beautifully wrapped box.

“I almost forgot,” Sophie said, handing it to me. “I brought you a present.”

I took the box, surprised. “What is this? It’s not my birthday.”

“Just open it,” she grinned.

I carefully untied the ribbon and opened the small box.

Resting on a bed of white cotton were two exquisite, flawless pearl earrings.