"Why is Ethan Carter's wife calling me?" Alexander Blackwood's deep voice carried a sharp edge of amusement over the line.
"No wonder Blackwood Group can never quite beat Walker Group," I said, leaning my spine against the cold marble wall of the hallway. "A massive scandal just hit the national news, and you are completely in the dark."
I gripped the phone tighter, my knuckles turning white. "And I am not his wife anymore. My name is Catherine Walker."
"Catherine Walker," Alexander repeated. The amusement vanished from his tone, replaced by a low, calculating hum. "I am listening."
"Turn on any major news channel or open a browser," I told him, keeping my voice dangerously level. "My husband and my younger sister just broadcasted their sex life to the entire country. The live stream is trending everywhere."
A faint tapping sounded on his end—a keyboard clicking. A long silence followed, then a quiet exhale. "Well. That is quite the performance. But why call me? I am your husband's biggest commercial rival."
"Because I want to destroy him," I said. "And I want to join Blackwood Group."
"You run Walker Group," Alexander pointed out, a hint of skepticism coloring his words. "Why would the CEO of my biggest competitor hand over her playbook?"
"I manage it," I corrected. "My father, Richard Walker, built that company from the ground up. But my mother, Evelyn, holds the controlling shares. She just informed me she is handing the entire inheritance to Sophia. I am nothing but a glorified employee to them. They want me to clean up their public relations mess, smile for the cameras, and step aside."
"So you want to jump ship," Alexander said. "You want to team up with me to crush your own family."
"I want to take back what belongs to me. I know your supply chain weaknesses, Alexander. I know exactly where Ethan plans to outbid you next quarter. Bring me on, and I will hand Walker Group to you on a silver platter."
"That is a decent plan," Alexander murmured. "But I have a much bolder one."
"I am not interested in playing games. I need resources."
"Neither am I. Marry me."
I froze. The marble wall suddenly felt like ice against my back. I pulled the phone away from my ear, checked the screen to make sure I was actually talking to the CEO of Blackwood Group, and brought it back. "Excuse me?"
"Marry me," he repeated, his voice entirely serious, lacking any trace of a joke. "If we become husband and wife, I will write fifty percent of Blackwood Group's shares into our prenuptial agreement."
"Is this a joke?" I demanded. "Because I do not have the patience for corporate humor right now."
"I never joke about mergers, Catherine. You get half my shares."
"You would hand over half your empire to a woman you barely know?"
"I know your profit margins," Alexander said smoothly. "I know you ruthlessly cut the European division to save the company from bankruptcy three years ago. I know exactly who you are. You are the only reason Walker Group has stayed afloat. You are ruthless, efficient, and currently out for blood."
A chair squeaked on his end. "With you on my board legitimately as my wife, we can engineer a hostile takeover of Walker Group within a year. You get your father's legacy back. I get to absorb my biggest competitor."
I swallowed hard, staring at the crystal chandelier hanging above the staircase. The logic was flawless, yet utterly insane.
"A marriage of convenience," I said.
"A highly profitable partnership," he countered. "I majored in law, Catherine. My best friend, Daniel Brooks, is the top divorce attorney in the state. He will draft every single document to ensure you are protected."
"Ethan will not sign a divorce agreement easily. He thinks he can keep me chained to his messes."
"He will not have a choice," Alexander said. "My secretary, Lucas Bennett, will deliver the termination papers to Ethan by eight o'clock tonight. I will handle the rest of the legal fallout. You just need to show up."
"Show up where?"
"I will text you the address."
The line went dead.
I lowered the phone just as the master bedroom door swung open.
Ethan stepped out, his tie hanging loose around his neck, his shirt only half-buttoned. He held the glossy photos of his illegal wire transfers in one hand, his face pale and furious. Sophia followed close behind him, wearing my favorite red silk robe. She clutched a thick manila folder to her chest.
"Who were you talking to?" Ethan demanded, waving the photos at me. "And what the hell is this, Catherine? You hired a private investigator to track my offshore accounts?"
"Someone who actually knows how to conduct business," I replied, ignoring his panic. "And yes, Ethan. I like to know where my money goes."
Sophia pushed past him, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered across her face. She tossed the folder onto the glass coffee table in the center of the hallway.
"Do not bother trying to threaten him, Catherine," Sophia sneered. "I already had these prepared."
I glanced down. The bold letters across the top page read: Divorce Settlement Agreement.
"You brought divorce papers to an affair?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I brought them because Mom already made her decision," Sophia said, stepping forward. She ran a hand over the lapel of the red robe. "She called me right after she hung up on you. She is transferring the entire company to me. You have no leverage anymore. No title, no power, no husband. Sign them."
Ethan adjusted his cuffs, refusing to meet my eyes. He tossed the photos onto the table next to the folder. "Catherine, look at this rationally. The photos you found do not mean anything now. The board will back whoever holds the most shares. And that is going to be Sophia. You are out."
"So I should just surrender?" I asked.
"It is for the best," Ethan insisted. "You keep the house, I keep my shares. We walk away clean. We can issue a joint statement saying we grew apart."
"Clean?" I let out a sharp laugh. "You just fucked my sister on a live stream, and you think you are walking away clean?"
"Just sign the damn papers!" Sophia snapped, shoving a gold-plated pen toward me. "You lost. Accept it."
I picked up the pen. The metal felt heavy and cool against my skin. I looked at Ethan's cowardly posture. He wanted my money, my silence, and my sister. Then I looked at Sophia's victorious smirk. She wanted my life.
They really thought they had won. They were rushing headfirst toward a cliff, entirely blind to the drop waiting for them at the bottom.
"Gladly," I said.
I flipped to the last page and scribbled my name on the dotted line. I did not even bother reading the terms. It did not matter what ridiculous demands Sophia had typed up. Daniel Brooks would rip this amateur document to shreds by tomorrow morning.
I dropped the pen on top of the signed contract.
"Enjoy your prize, Sophia," I told her, turning on my heel. "I am sure he will be just as loyal to you as he was to me."
"Where are you going?" Ethan called out, his voice tinged with sudden uncertainty. "We need to coordinate the press release!"
I did not answer. I grabbed my purse from the console table and walked out the front door, letting it slam shut behind me.
The cool evening air hit my face as I stepped onto the driveway. My phone buzzed in my hand. A text message flashed on the screen from an unknown number, displaying a single address downtown.
My fingers flew across the screen, typing out my reply.
See you at the civil affairs bureau.
