Wife's Fury, Dynasty To Ashes

arley

iamonds below. The divorce papers lay on the polished mahogany table, unsigned. A day had

ery corner of the life we had built. I had expected a fight, a negoti

sn't from Holden. The return address was a generic post office box. My hands were stead

is lap, her head resting on his chest. He was smiling. Not his public, calculated smile, but a genuine, soft smile tha

a note, written in a d

old, and you can' t give him what he need

nogram picture. A tiny, grainy

t the image, a cold, methodical fury building within m

om. "Find her. I don't care w

worked at was Kaela Espinoza. The irony was so thick it was nauseatin

Fine. I would give him a reason to. I would take awa

pointment. My men were professionals. She was bund

we had closed many deals and ended many lives. The sky was the color of lead, a heavy, oppressive gray

g twenty feet above the churning, icy water of the canal. She was terrified, her face pale an

rieked, her voice thin against the wind.

ignoring her. I lit a cigarette,

id calmly, exhaling a plume of sm

the harness. "I'm carrying his child! I am his fami

ht a baby was a trump card in our world. She had no id

t at the entrance to the pier. He got out, his face a thundercloud

he roared, striding tow

Holden." I gestured with my chin to the divorce document

e yelled, stopping

're the one who taught me. Leverage.

terically now. "Holde

child that should have been ours. The future

ping to a whisper. "She said you were throwing me away. Is

jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists. Hi

l, tiny, sharp pellets o

voice flat and devoid of emotion.

life hanging by a thread. The man I had loved for two decades looked