Ethan laughed as the black G-Wagons boxed in his driveway. “What’s this, Olivia? Did you order a premium Uber?”
His mistress snickered, clinging to his arm.
Then the heavy car doors swung open. Six men in tailored suits stepped out in perfect unison. But it was the seventh man stepping from the second SUV who made Ethan’s blood turn to ice.
Arthur Bennett.
The ruthless billionaire CEO who owned the very investment firm Ethan had just been promoted at. The man whose terrifying portrait hung in the lobby Ethan walked through every single morning.
Arthur didn’t even look at Ethan. He walked straight to Olivia, kissed her forehead, and gently guided her toward the lead vehicle.
“Mr. Bennett?” Ethan stammered, his golden aviators slipping down his nose. “Sir, what are you doing with my wife?”
“Your wife?” Arthur’s voice was a razor blade. “Not anymore.”
The lead lawyer stepped onto the porch. He didn’t just hand Ethan divorce papers. He handed him an eviction notice.
“This is my house!” Ethan shouted, his arrogant smirk entirely gone.
The lawyer smiled—a shark smelling blood. “Actually, this Mediterranean estate is owned by Apex Holdings. A shell corporation wholly registered to Ms. Bennett. She kindly let you play house here. As of three minutes ago, your lease is terminated.”
The mistress instantly backed away from Ethan, her designer heels clicking frantically in retreat.
“Oh, and Ethan?” the lawyer added smoothly. “Check your email. You were fired from Bennett Financial at 2:14 PM. We’re freezing the accounts, repossessing the cars, and auditing your recent trades.”
Ethan collapsed to his knees in the stone driveway, right next to the pathetic pile of clothes he had just thrown outside.
As the G-Wagon reversed, Olivia rolled down the tinted window. She didn’t scream. She didn’t gloat. She simply tossed a shiny quarter onto the driveway.
“For the bus,” she said.