"She's Just Crazy." My Husband's Last Words Before I Dropped the Audio on Live TV.

[SILAS]

"Mr. Sterling, you cannot simply walk out with my wife!" Julian shouted from the center of the shattered doorway.

I completely ignored him. I kept my palm flat against the small of Maya's back. I pushed her forward, steering her down the sterile linoleum hallway.

"Wait!" Julian yelled. Footsteps pounded behind us.

"Block the corridor," I told Marcus.

My lead bodyguard halted instantly. He crossed his massive arms, forming an impenetrable human wall in front of the doctor's office. The other two men flanked him. Julian's frantic protests were instantly muffled as we rounded the corner.

I pushed the heavy crash bar of the emergency exit. The steel door swung outward with a loud groan.

I guided her onto the concrete landing. The door slammed shut behind us.

The fluorescent lights above buzzed weakly. The air in the narrow stairwell smelled of chalk and old dust.

Maya stood perfectly still. Her chest rose and fell in rapid, uneven jerks. She wrapped her arms around her waist, clutching the ruined fabric of her dress.

I stepped forward. I didn't stop until my leather shoe tip tapped directly against hers.

She flinched. She retreated instinctively until her spine hit the cold metal of the fire door. There was nowhere else to retreat. My large frame completely blocked the exit.

"Are you going to cry?" I asked.

She blinked rapidly. A single tear escaped, cutting a wet track down her pale cheek. She bit down hard on her lower lip, fighting the tremor in her chin.

"No," she whispered.

"Good." I leaned closer. My silk tie brushed lightly against her exposed collarbone. "Because I have zero use for a broken housewife."

Her chin jerked up. The shock in her eyes morphed directly into a sharp, defensive glare.

That was the spark. The pulse in my neck throbbed. I didn't want the shattered victim Julian had created. I wanted the ruthless public relations architect she used to be. The woman who built his empire from nothing.

I reached inside my suit jacket. I pulled out a folded sheaf of papers.

"What is that?" Maya asked. Her voice lost its tremble.

"Your husband's financial death warrant," I replied.

I slapped the document against the steel door, right beside her head. I held it there with my palm.

"Read it," I ordered.

She turned her face. Her eyes scanned the dense legal text.

"He mortgaged the copyrights to his new book," she noted. Her jaw tightened. "To a shell corporation. For three million dollars."

"Look at the CEO of that corporation," I instructed.

She tracked my index finger down to the final signature line.

"Chloe," she breathed.

"He didn't just buy a house with your money, Maya. He transferred his entire intellectual property portfolio into her name to shield it from the divorce proceedings. The 'healing sanctuary' is just a tax shelter."

She didn't scream. She didn't dissolve into hysterics. Instead, a chilling, hollow laugh left her throat. The madness Julian tried to diagnose was actually just raw, unadulterated rage finding its target.

"He really thinks he won," she murmured.

"He won the battle. I am offering you the war."

"Why do you care?" She locked her gaze onto mine. "You are a billionaire, Mr. Sterling. You don't play savior for charity."

"I don't play savior at all." I lowered my voice. "I want his foundation. I want his commercial value. I want every single asset he thinks he secured. He humiliated me in my own ballroom last night. I do not let loose ends survive."

"And what do I get?"

"I will deploy my top financial investigators. I will give you a legal team that will rip Dr. Evans' fake evaluation to shreds." I leaned in another inch, trapping her entirely. "I will get your children back."

Her fingers curled into tight fists. The knuckles turned bone-white.

"You want to buy me," she stated.

"I want to partner with the woman who built Julian Vance's empire. You wrote his bestselling debut. You booked his speaking tours. You designed the 'Unconditional Acceptance' methodology from your own pain, and he slapped his name on it."

"How do you know that?"

"I read the original drafts, Maya. I know who the real genius in this marriage is. Now, you are going to dismantle his reputation, brick by brick, and funnel the wreckage into my investment firm."

"You want me to destroy my husband."

I raised my hand. I dragged the back of my knuckle across her cheek, aggressively swiping away the cold tear she had shed minutes ago. The friction left a faint red mark on her skin.

"I want you to erase him."

She stared at me. The fear was completely gone. In its place, a sharp, calculating predator stared back. The dusty diamond was finally showing its cutting edge.

"He has the kids," she said. Her tone was pure ice now. "He has the house, the money, and the doctor."

"I have unlimited capital," I countered. "And I have you."

"My reputation is ruined. He just told the press I am severely bipolar."

"A temporary setback." I dropped my hand from her face. "We will spin it. We will leak the truth about his mistress and the stolen funds. We will frame his diagnoses as a desperate attempt to silence a whistleblower."

"He will fight back."

"Let him try. My lawyers will keep him tied up in litigation until his legal fees bankrupt the foundation."

Maya looked down at the contract pinned to the door. She studied Chloe's signature.

"Can you freeze the shell corporation?" she asked.

"By tomorrow morning."

"Can you block the closing on their new house?"

"I already bought the bank that holds the mortgage," I told her. "The loan is under review."

A tiny, genuine smile touched the corner of her mouth. It was a dangerous, vindictive expression.

I reached into my other pocket. I pulled out a thick parchment envelope. A black-and-gold wax seal sat heavy in the center.

I slapped it against the fire door, right over Julian's secret contract.

"What is this?" she asked.

"Your new life."

I pulled a silver fountain pen from my breast pocket. I grabbed her right wrist. Her muscles were stiff, but she didn't pull away. I forced the cold metal barrel into her palm and curled her fingers around it.

"Sign it," I ordered softly. "And starting tomorrow, you are my CEO."