Especially not my ex-husband, Ethan Davis, or his family. I thought I heard a faint chuckle on the other end, as if he had anticipated my concern. Rest assured, Miss Collins, client confidentiality is a fundamental principle of our profession. We will not disclose a single word to any third party without your express permission. This was also a stipulation in Miss Vance’s will.

I breathed a sigh of relief but still felt anxious. And tomorrow when the money is transferred, “Will there be a text alert or something? Can we turn that off or have it sent to you? If my phone suddenly says $50 million has been deposited, I might have a heart attack.” And what if someone sees it? Mr. Peterson was unflapable. While a record of the transaction will exist, we can control the notification methods.

If you wish, I can open an entirely new discrete bank account for you. All alerts and information will be routed through our firm’s encrypted channels and delivered only to you. Your existing accounts and daily life will not be affected at all. Yes, yes, please do that. I nodded repeatedly. This was perfect. This was exactly what I wanted.

On the surface, I would be the recently divorced down on her luck Sarah Collins. But behind the scenes, my mind started racing. What should I do first? Crush Ethan and his mistress with money. That seemed too cheap, too easy, and it might expose me. I had to think of the most satisfying, most devastating way to get my revenge.

Ethan faked a $500 debt. He left me for that amount. Fine, I’ll build my game around that $500 000 and that mistress. She thought she’d hit the jackpot, right? Rushed to marry him. I’ll have to prepare a very special wedding gift for her and my ex-mother-in-law and sister-in-law. They looked down on me for being poor and plain.

They were worried I’d leech off them. I’ll make them see exactly what they lost and who they made an enemy of. A faint plan began to form in my mind, the foggy ideas slowly taking shape. Mr. Peterson, I said, please set up the new account as soon as possible. And when we meet tomorrow, there are a few things I’d like to ask for your help with.

Not a problem, Miss Collins. Once the funds are confirmed tomorrow at 10:00 a.m., I will contact you to arrange our meeting. At that time, please let me know whatever you require, and I will do everything in my power to assist you.” Hanging up, I felt a sense of calm settle over me. I walked to the window and looked out at the city lights twinkling to life.

The view that once felt warm now looked like a chessboard. Ethan, your family, and that mistress. You’re probably toasting to your victory right now. Go on, laugh. Laugh your hearts out. You have no idea the person you just crossed is a hunter armed with $250 million in ammunition. And the hunt has already begun.

The next morning, I was awake before dawn. In truth, I’d barely slept. The number $250 million burned in my mind like a furnace. Hot, exciting, and utterly unbelievable. Brushing my teeth, I saw my reflection in the mirror. Dark circles under my eyes, my complexion pale. Just as I was trying to digest my new identity as a multi-millionaire, my phone chimed.

It wasn’t my usual text alert, but a soft, unique notification sound. My heart leaped. I quickly rinsed my mouth and grabbed the phone. It was an encrypted message from Arthur Peterson. Miss Collins, the initial transfer of $50 million has been securely deposited. The funds are available for your use. I will be in touch shortly to arrange our meeting. $50 million. It was real.

I read the message over and over, my fingertips tingling. They were just numbers on a screen, but a massive solid sense of confidence filled my entire being. I was smiling foolishly at my phone when it rang with its normal shrill ringtone, making me jump. It was another unfamiliar number. Who could be calling so early? I hesitated for a moment before answering. Hello.

A young woman’s cloying saccharine voice came through the line, dripping with unconcealed triumph and a need to show off. “Hello, is this Sarah?” I racked my brain. I didn’t recognize the voice, but the overly dramatic affected tone reminded me of the wavy-haired woman I’d seen with Ethan yesterday. My own voice grew cold. Yes, it is.

Who’s this? The woman giggled a fake tinkling sound. It’s me. I’m Chloe, Ethan’s fianceé. You just signed the papers yesterday, Sarah. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten who I am already. So, it was her. My eyes hardened. She had come to me before I had even had a chance to go looking for her. I said nothing, waiting to hear what nonsense she would spout.

My silence seemed to encourage Khloe. Her voice was sweet, but every word was a thorn. Don’t be mad, Sarah. Ethan couldn’t help it. With all that debt, he couldn’t let you sink with him. It was all for you. See, now you’re free and clear. No debt to worry about. I tightened my grip on the phone, sneering inwardly but forcing a choked sound into my voice.

you. You two. Oh, don’t cry, Sarah. Chloe said quickly. I didn’t call for any bad reason. I just wanted to apologize since I’m with Ethan now. And I wanted to share some good news so you could be happy for us, too. Good news, I raised an eyebrow. Yes, Khloe said excitedly. Ethan and I are going to get our marriage license this afternoon.

He said I don’t need to worry about the debt. He has a huge project about to close and he’ll be able to pay it all back in no time. And once he gets the funds, he promised to buy me a penthouse at the sovereign tower. You know, the one with the huge terrace over 3000 square feet. She rattled on her every word, oozing superiority.

Ethan told me it was so stressful living with you, always having to pinch pennies. He said, “Only now with me will he finally feel like he’s truly living. So don’t be too sad, Sarah. You can’t force fate, you know.” Listening to her pratt on about the fantasy future Ethan had painted for her, I almost laughed out loud.

a huge project closing, funds being recovered. If Ethan had that kind of capability, would he have needed to stage a drama about debt to get a divorce? It was a lie so transparent. Only a foolish woman obsessed with luxury bags and pen houses. I would believe it. I remained silent, letting her perform. Chloe, probably thinking I was too devastated to speak, sighed with satisfaction.

Well, Sarah, I have to go now. I have a facial appointment. I need to look my best for the wedding photos this afternoon. I hope you find someone special, too. Bye. She hung up with a sharp click. I slowly lowered the phone. My face a blank mask. Marriage license. The Sovereign Tower Penthouse. Fine. I was wondering where to start my plan.

Thank you, Chloe, for calling and telling me exactly where to begin. Your wedding present. I, Sarah Collins, will make sure you get it. Khloe’s call was as irritating as a buzzing fly. Facials. Wedding photos. Huh? I looked in the mirror and patted my cheeks. Go on, you two. Enjoy your last moments of happiness.

I threw on a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, pulling my hair into a messy bun. I needed to go grocery shopping. The fridge was nearly empty. I used to always think about what to cook for Ethan. Now that I was alone, I didn’t even know what I wanted to eat. I opened the front door and almost collided with someone. Speak of the devil.

Standing right outside were my ex-mother-in-law and her precious daughter, my ex-sister-in-law Jessica. They were dressed to the nines, dripping with flashy jewelry, looking like they were on their way to a party. Certainly not dressed for a visit to someone as pathetic as me. In Mrs. Davis’s hand was a plastic bag filled with bruised, overripe apples, the kind you find in the discount bin.

The moment I opened the door, her critical eyes scanned me from head to toe. The wrinkles on her brow deepened. Goodness, Sarah, what are you wearing? You look like you’re about to clean the streets. It’s only been a day since the divorce, and you’ve let yourself go this much. Jessica giggled beside her, covering her mouth as she looked me up and down with undisguised contempt.

See, Mom, this is what happens when she’s not with my brother. Doesn’t she own any decent clothes? I smirked inwardly but lowered my head and stepped aside to let them in. Mrs. Davis, Jessica, what brings you here? Come in. Mrs. Davis shoved the bag of rotten apples into my hand as if giving alms to a beggar.

I was passing the grocery store and these were on sale, so I got some for you. Make sure you’re eating properly. Don’t just waste away. I looked at the mushy apples, my stomach turning, but I took them. “Thank you,” I said quietly. The two of them walked into the living room and plopped down on my sofa without a shred of hesitation.

Jessica even waved her hand in front of her nose dramatically. “Uh, Sarah, it’s only been a day and the apartment already smells musty. You should open a window.” Mrs. Davis chimed in. “That’s right. A house needs people in it to feel warm. It falls apart if you leave it empty.” Her eyes darted around the room as if assessing the value of my belongings.

I brought over a chair and sat opposite them, saying nothing. Mrs. Davis cleared her throat and got to the point. Sarah, have you thought about what I said yesterday? It’s not safe for you here alone. It would be better if before she could finish, Jessica jumped in. She’s right, Sarah. My brother owes $500. 000. Do you know how scary debt collectors are? If they show up here, what are you going to do by yourself? You’ll probably faint from fear. Mrs.

Davis nodded sagely. Jessica’s right. It’s for your own good. You don’t have a steady job right now. You don’t have a man to protect you. How are you going to survive? Listen to me. Sign the apartment over to me for now. I’ll keep it safe. Once you get back on your feet, we can talk about it again. I looked up at the perfectly synchronized pair.

A fresh wave of anger surged through me. For my own good. Such pretty words. My voice was small. Mrs. Davis. Ethan said he was leaving the apartment to me. And I don’t know where the deed is right now. You can’t find it. Mrs. Davis’s voice shot up. Why not? Don’t tell me that boy took it with him.

Did he use it as collateral? She was suddenly agitated as if the apartment was already hers. Jessica looked frantic. How could he do that? What happens to the apartment then? I watched their panicked faces, a grim satisfaction spreading through me. I added fuel to the fire, pretending to be even more scared. I I don’t know.

Ethan left in such a hurry. Mrs. Davis, Jessica, do you really think those debt collectors will come here? Am I going to be okay? Seeing that I was more worried about the debt, Mrs. Davis immediately switched back to her concerned mother act. See, that’s why you need to deal with the apartment quickly.

Leaving it with me is the safest option. As for you, you can find a job with housing provided or go live with your parents. You don’t have any kids tying you down, so you should be able to manage. Jessica added, “That’s right, Sarah. Stop clinging to this apartment. You can’t protect it. Just worry about yourself.” “Look, my brother and Kloe are getting their marriage license today.

They’re starting a new life. You need to forget the past and move on, too.” I bowed my head, my shoulders trembling slightly, making it look like I was overcome with sadness and fear, thinking I was convinced, Mrs. Davis sighed again, full of fake sympathy. All right, that’s all I wanted to say.

Make sure you eat these apples before they go bad. And sort out the apartment issue quickly. Understand? This is all for your own good. Let’s go, Jessica. The two of them stood up as if they had completed a great mission and sacheted out the door. The door slammed shut, cutting me off from the world. I lifted my head.

There was no trace of fear or sadness on my face, only a cold, mocking smile. For my own good, give up my home and live on the streets, and you insult me with rotten apples. I picked up the bag of apples and threw it straight into the trash. Ethan, Chloe, Mrs. Davis, Jessica, I will remember every single one of your faces.

The brazen visit from my ex-mother-in-law and Jessica along with their rotten apples was the last straw. After they left, I cleaned the entire apartment, scrubbing the spot where they sat on the sofa several times over as if to wipe away their greedy stench. By the time I finished, it was almost 9:00 a.m. I was meeting Mr. Peterson at 10:00.

It was time to get ready. What to wear? I looked at the worn out clothes hanging in my closet, most of them bought on sale or from cheap online stores. Ethan used to say I dressed frumpily, that I had no style. I bit my lip and ran my hand over the familiar fabrics. In the end, I pulled out the most ordinary gray sweatsuit I owned. I can’t change.

Not yet. I can’t show any sign of change. With a makeup free face and my hair in a simple ponytail, I grabbed a faded canvas tote bag and left the house. I took a cab to a quiet cafe Mr. Peterson had suggested and found a discrete corner table. He was already there dressed in a sharp suit, a laptop, and a file folder in front of him.

When he saw me, he stood and gave a respectful nod. Miss Collins, good morning. Good morning, Mr. Peterson. I sat down, feeling a little awkward. He passed me a document. This is the information for the new account and the deposit statement for the initial $50 million. Please review it. The remaining assets will be transferred sequentially, and we’ll need your signature on a few more forms.

” My eyes blurred at the dense text and long strings of numbers, but the figure $5000 0 stood out clearly. I took a deep breath and signed my name where required. With each signature, I felt my confidence grow. Once everything was signed, Mr. Peterson collected the documents and asked Miss Collins, “You mentioned yesterday that you had a matter you needed assistance with.

” I nodded, leaning forward slightly and lowering my voice. “Mr. Peterson, I want to buy a house.” He wasn’t surprised. “Do you have a preferred area or size? I can connect you with the top real estate specialists in the city.” I shook my head, my gaze steady. No, that’s fine. I’ve already decided.

The Sovereign Tower. My voice was calm. The best unit, the largest penthouse, the exact one they’re advertising in their showroom right now. Mr. Peterson quickly typed on his laptop, then nodded. Yes, I see it. A 3500 square ft penthouse in the Royal Tower with a private terrace and some custom interior work included.

It is still on the market. The list price is approximately $28 million. I’ll take it, I said without a moment’s hesitation. Full cash offer. Can we close the deal today? The sooner the better. Mr. Peterson seemed a bit taken aback by my decisiveness, but his professional demeanor never wavered. He nodded immediately. It’s possible.

I will contact their legal and sales departments right away. We will proceed with the purchase in your name, and the entire process will be handled with utmost discretion. We should be able to have a preliminary contract and payment processed by the end of the day. I will handle all subsequent steps. Good. I paused, then added.

And for now, please don’t purchase it in my name. Mr. Peterson looked up. Under whose name then? I thought quickly. Can we buy it under the name of the Eleanor Vance Foundation? Using my great aunt’s name felt right. Empowering. Absolutely. He nodded. We can proceed with the foundation’s establishment simultaneously.

Holding assets under a foundation with you as the sole beneficiary and director is more advantageous for privacy and tax planning. Perfect. Please proceed with that. I felt a sense of release. The sovereign tower, the very home Khloe dreamed of, the one she was pestering Ethan to buy for her. It was now mine. After leaving the cafe, I didn’t go home.

I went to a high-end department store downtown. I didn’t enter any of the luxury boutiques, just walked aimlessly through the polished corridors. I saw the bags, jewelry, and clothes in the windows costing tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars. I used to feel intimidated just looking at them. Now, I knew I could buy the entire store if I wanted to, but I felt no such impulse.

My mind was strangely calm. What I wanted wasn’t these frivolous things. What I wanted was thorough, calculated revenge. I wanted them to pay the most painful price for everything they did to me. That afternoon, an encrypted message arrived from Mr. Peterson. Miss Collins, the preliminary contract for the Sovereign Tower property has been executed, and the full amount has been paid.

The Foundation establishment process has also begun. The deed and keys will be delivered to you upon completion of the final procedures. Reading the message, I couldn’t stop a cold smile from spreading across my face. Ethan, Chloe, you’re getting your marriage license this afternoon, aren’t you? Still dreaming of living in the Sovereign Tower. Too bad.

Your dream home is already mine. With a new debit card in my hand, one that looked ordinary but was linked to a $50 million account. I felt invincible. I left the department store and decided to walk instead of taking a cab to clear my head. I found myself on the busiest street downtown, surrounded by skyscrapers and neon lights.

In the past, Ethan and I would hurry past these places, never daring to go inside. Now, I looked at the glittering signs, not thinking about what I could buy, but how I could use them to surprise my ex-husband and his new bride. As I was walking, I looked up and by sheer coincidence, found myself in front of the county clerk’s office.

My steps slowed. Chloe had said they were coming here this afternoon. I checked the time. It would be right about now. I smirked and sat down on a nearby bench, pretending to rest while keeping an eye on the entrance. Sure enough, after just a few minutes, a familiar small car pulled up.

The same one that had whisked Ethan away yesterday. Ethan got out, walked around to the passenger side, and opened the door for Kloe, like a perfect gentleman. She was wearing a white dress done up like a bride, and she linked her arm through his beaming. They laughed and chatted as they walked into the building.

The nauseatingly sweet display made my stomach churn. I sat there coldly watching their backs disappear inside. I felt nothing, just a desire to laugh. A single piece of paper had tied me down for 5 years. I wondered how long it would hold them together. Just then, my phone vibrated. It was Mr. Peterson. Yes, Mr. Peterson.

Miss Collins, the paperwork for the Sovereign Tower is nearly finalized. The allcash offer has made the developers extremely efficient. They have also agreed to full confidentiality regarding the foundation’s purchase. Do you have a moment? There is one final confirmation signature required. I glanced at the county clerk’s office.

A brilliant idea struck me. Yes, I’m free. Mr. Peterson, would it be possible for you to bring the documents to the cafe near the clerk’s office, the one where we met this morning? I’m in the area. He paused, clearly surprised, but didn’t ask why. Certainly, I will be there in approximately 15 minutes. I hung up and continued to wait on the bench.

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