Chapter 1: The Woman He Underestimated
At his office party, my husband str*ck my shoulder and whispered, "Go home.
She belongs beside me tonight." His mistress stood close by in a tight red gown, pretending not to hear.
I adjusted my dress and said, "No.
I think I'll stay for the announcement."
Ten minutes later, the chairman introduced the company's new majority owner.
I stepped onto the stage — and my husband stopped breathing.
"Go home," Desmond whispered, after str*king my shoulder hard enough to make me stumble into a champagne table.
"She belongs beside me tonight."
Two hundred employees were assembled beneath the chandeliers for Corvina Systems' twentieth-anniversary party.
Conversations paused, then resumed at the careful volume people use when they've seen something ugly but fear the man responsible.
Isolde stood at my husband's side in a form-fitting red gown, one hand on his arm.
As Corvina's communications director, she'd spent months appearing beside Desmond at conferences and "emergency strategy retreats." Tonight she wore the diamond earrings I'd discovered missing from my jewelry box.
"Wren, perhaps this isn't the right evening for a domestic scene," she said.
My shoulder ached.
I adjusted the strap, lifted my chin.
"No.
I think I'll stay for the announcement."
Desmond was Corvina's chief strategy officer, and for three weeks he'd talked about the promotion he expected tonight.
He believed the board would make him president.
He also believed I spent my days managing a small inheritance and volunteering at an arts foundation.
He'd never asked why my late mother's investment office filled three floors in Boston.
He preferred the version of me that made him feel taller.
"The announcement is for executives," he said.
"Not decorative wives."
Isolde laughed quietly.
Across the ballroom, Chairman Reginald met my gaze.
He touched two fingers to his cuff — the signal we'd agreed on after the closing documents were signed that afternoon.
Beside him stood Corvina's general counsel and the forensic accountant who'd spent six weeks examining vendor payments Desmond had authorized.
"Enjoy the next ten minutes," I told my husband.
He seized my wrist.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you should listen carefully."
The lights dimmed.
Reginald thanked the employees who'd kept Corvina alive through eighteen months of debt and a failed expansion.
Desmond straightened his jacket, preparing his victorious expression.
"Tonight," Reginald said, "we welcome the investor whose capital preserved eight hundred jobs and retired our most serious debt.
The acquisition closed today.
Ardent Holdings now owns fifty-eight percent of Corvina Systems."
Desmond applauded first.
Then Reginald looked directly at me.
"Please welcome Ardent's founder and Corvina's new majority owner, Ms.
Wren Ashcombe."
I placed my glass on the table and walked toward the stage.
Behind me, someone gasped.
Isolde's hand slipped from Desmond's arm.
My husband stopped breathing.
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What will Desmond do now that Wren holds all the power?
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