The Villainess Stepmother's Ruthless New Life

Vance stared at the table, his face turning a shade of purple that clashed with his tie. He reached out to pull the pen free, but the nib was buried deep in the grain.

"You are making a mistake," Vance hissed. "Arthur is gone. The family won't support you. This is your only lifeboat."

Gloria walked back to the table. She grabbed the document, tearing it free from the pen with a violent rip.

She held the paper up to the light.

"Clause 14," she read aloud. "Alimony capped at fifty thousand dollars. Total release of all marital claims."

She looked at Vance. "My dry cleaning bill is fifty thousand dollars."

It was a lie, but a necessary one. She needed to be the greedy, high-maintenance wife he expected, but with a twist.

"You have debts, Gloria," Vance said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "We know about the casinos. We know about the sharks. The men who don't ask twice for their money. You need this cash today."

Her stomach twisted. He was right. The sharks were real, and they broke legs.

But fifty thousand wouldn't save her legs. It would just prolong the agony.

She glanced up at the smoke detector in the corner of the room. A tiny red light blinked rhythmically.

In the novel, it was revealed later that Arthur Sterling had surveillance in every room of his empire. Even from the grave-or wherever he was hiding-he was watching.

She had an audience.

"My husband isn't dead," Gloria announced. She made sure her voice carried to the microphone she knew was hidden in the ceiling.

Vance rolled his eyes. "The search was called off yesterday."

"Arthur Sterling doesn't die in a snowstorm," Gloria said. "And I am not a beggar."

She took the torn contract in both hands.

Riiip.

The sound was satisfying. She tore the thick paper in half again. And again.

Jones watched, mesmerized. He had never seen anyone destroy a legal document with such precision.

Gloria gathered the pieces in her hand. She walked around the table until she was standing right in front of Vance.

He looked up at her, fear flickering in his watery eyes.

She threw the confetti into his face.

The paper scraps fluttered down, landing on his shoulders, his hair, and floating into his water glass.

"Get out," she said.

"This is my office!" Vance shouted.

"This is a Sterling building," Gloria corrected him. "And last I checked, my name is on the marriage license."

She turned away from him and walked toward Jones.

The boy flinched as she approached. He pressed his back against the leather chair, bracing for impact.

Gloria stopped inches from him. She could smell the faint scent of fear on him, mixed with teenage deodorant. His tie was crooked, the knot pulled too tight to the left.

She reached out.

Jones squeezed his eyes shut.

Gloria's fingers brushed his collar. She undid the knot deftly and retied it, smoothing the silk fabric down his chest.

"Open your eyes," she commanded softly.

Jones opened them. They were grey, just like his father's.

"We are Sterlings," she whispered, low enough that Vance couldn't hear. "We don't get scammed by men in cheap suits."

Jones stared at her, searching for the lie. He was looking for the angle, the trick. But Gloria's face was unreadable.

"Security!" Vance was yelling into the intercom now. "Send security to Conference Room B!"

Gloria checked her manicure. The red polish was chipped on her thumb. She would have to fix that.

"I suggest you don't do that," she said to Vance without looking at him.

"You are trespassing!"

"I am waiting for my husband," she said.

Vance scoffed. "He's not coming through that door, Gloria."

Ding.

The elevator bell in the hallway chimed. It was a soft, melodious sound that cut through the tension like a knife.

Heavy footsteps echoed on the marble floor outside. Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

Gloria's heart hammered against her ribs. She knew that walk. She knew the timing.

In the book, Arthur walked in five minutes after Gloria signed the papers. He found his wife celebrating her payout and his son crying in the corner. That was the moment he decided to divorce her and destroy her.

But she hadn't signed.

She sat down in the chair next to Jones, crossing her legs at the ankle. She forced her spine to be straight.

The door handle turned slowly.

Vance let out a sigh of relief. "Finally. Security."

Gloria gripped the armrest.

"Not quite," she murmured.