The Genius Heiress' Ruthless Divorce Revenge

Harlow stepped out of the cafe and onto the bustling Manhattan sidewalk. The biting autumn wind hit her face, blowing away the sickeningly sweet smell of the cafe's pastries.

She turned her head and looked through the large glass window.

Inside, Beck was furiously brushing paper shreds off his lapels. Fallon was picking pieces out of her hair.

Fallon looked up and caught Harlow's eye. Through the glass, Fallon offered a malicious, triumphant smile.

Fallon exaggerated the movement of her lips, mouthing the words clearly: You lose.

Harlow's jaw tightened. She let out a cold, dead laugh. She turned away and pulled open the heavy door of the black Maybach waiting at the curb.

She slid into the plush leather backseat. The door shut, sealing her in silence.

"Find out which law firm Beck has been contacting recently," Harlow ordered immediately.

In the front passenger seat, her assistant, Eileen Ruiz, rapidly tapped on her tablet.

"He's been in talks with the partners at Pearson Hardman," Eileen reported, her brow furrowing. "They are notorious for using extremely dirty tactics."

Harlow narrowed her eyes. Her fingers tapped a slow, rhythmic beat against the leather armrest. Her brain processed the data at lightning speed.

To kill a rabid dog, you needed a bigger, more ruthless predator.

Harlow leaned forward. "Book me an appointment with Fitzgerald 'Fitz' Monroe."

Eileen gasped. Her fingers froze over the screen. She turned to look at Harlow with wide eyes.

"Boss," Eileen said, her voice shaking slightly. "Fitz Monroe is the heir to the Monroe Group. His firm only handles multi-billion dollar corporate mergers. He never takes divorce cases."

Eileen swallowed hard. "Rumor has it he is completely heartless. He hates messy personal drama. He's rejected dozens of billionaires."

Harlow leaned back against the seat. A dangerous, confident light sparked in her eyes.

"I know," Harlow said. "But I have a bargaining chip he cannot refuse."

She pulled her phone from her purse. She tapped the screen and brought up a highly classified financial report, followed by an underground gossip brief regarding the Monroe family.

The brief read: Monroe patriarch, Fitzgerald Sr. , issues ultimatum. If Fitz does not marry soon, his controlling shares in the family trust fund will be frozen.

Harlow's lips curled into a calculating smile. An enemy's weakness was the best key to their door.

Eileen looked stressed. "His schedule is highly classified. Regular appointments are booked out until next year."

Harlow reached into the hidden zipper compartment of her handbag. She pulled out a thick, black magnetic card. The edges were slightly yellowed, but the dark, embossed logo of the Monroe Group was unmistakable.

"This is the highest-level access pass my father received when he invested in the early construction of the Monroe building," Harlow said, staring at the card. "Let's hope they haven't updated their legacy security systems."

The Maybach merged into the heavy traffic, speeding toward the financial district.

Inside the car, the air was thick with tension. Harlow closed her eyes, mentally simulating the upcoming negotiation.

Miles away, inside the cafe, Beck smirked as he hit 'send' on an email to Pearson Hardman, confirming their retainer. He was absolutely certain Harlow couldn't find anyone to match his legal firepower.

The Maybach glided to a smooth stop in front of the towering, glass-and-steel fortress of the Monroe Group headquarters.

Harlow pushed the car door open. She stepped out onto the pavement and tilted her head back, looking up at the intimidating skyscraper. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the cold city air.

She smoothed down the front of her black suit, ensuring there wasn't a single wrinkle.

She gripped the black magnetic card tightly in her hand. Her eyes were sharp, focused, and deadly.

She leaned down and looked at Eileen through the open car window.

"Keep the 'Scorched Earth' protocol on standby," Harlow instructed, her voice dead serious. "If you receive a text from me with the code word 'execute,' or if you haven't heard from me by the end of the day, initiate phase one."

It was the code to begin revoking all her AI core licenses from Holman Industries.

Eileen nodded solemnly, watching her boss walk away.

Harlow turned and marched through the revolving glass doors of the Monroe building, ready to walk into the lion's den.