My ex-husband mocked me at my cousin’s wedding, bragging that leaving me was his best decision—until a little girl screamed “Mommy!” and a billionaire walked toward us.

The Weston mansion was pitch black, save for the flickering blue light of a flat-screen television in the master bedroom.

Marcus Mercer stood in front of the open walk-in closet, his eyes wild, his hands tearing through the contents of a safe bolted behind a full-length mirror. Piles of empty velvet jewelry boxes lay scattered across the plush carpet like discarded shells.

“Where is it?!” Marcus roared, his voice cracking into a ragged sob. “Where is the emergency bearer bonds?! Where are the Krugerrands?!”

The closet was stripped bare. Chloe’s designer handbags, her fur coats, and her diamond tennis bracelets were gone. Only empty wooden hangers clattered against each other in the draft.

Downstairs, the heavy front door clicked open, followed by the hurried clicking of high heels against the marble foyer.

Marcus stormed down the curving staircase, his eyes bloodshot, his shirt untucked, looking like a madman.

There stood Chloe, wearing a black wool coat and oversized sunglasses, struggling to drag two massive Louis Vuitton suitcases across the threshold toward the front door. On the driveway behind her, an Uber was idling in the dark with its hazard lights flashing.

“You!” Marcus screamed, charging down the remaining stairs. “You took the safe! You took my grandmother’s jewelry!”

Chloe spun around, dropping the handles of the suitcases, backing toward the front door. “It’s my jewelry, Marcus! You gave it to me!”

“I gave it to you when we were married!” he yelled, grabbing her by the collar of her coat, shaking her violently. “The feds froze my personal accounts this afternoon! That gold and those bonds were my only way to pay Blake! Without Blake, I’m going to prison for twenty years!”

“Let go of me, you pathetic loser!” Chloe shrieked, clawing at his face with her long nails, leaving three bloody scratches across his left cheek.

Marcus cried out in pain, stumbling back and releasing her.

Chloe snatched up the handles of her suitcases, her face contorted with venomous disgust. “You dragged me into your mess! My family won't speak to me! My friends have blocked my number! I’m taking what is mine and getting on a flight to Miami! You can rot in a federal cell for all I care!”

“You’re an accomplice, Chloe!” Marcus shouted, spitting blood from his split lip. “Leonard told me! Evelyn gave them your name! The moment you land at Miami International, they’re going to arrest you at the gate!”

Chloe froze, her knuckles whitening on the suitcase handles. For a fleeting second, pure terror flickered behind her sunglasses. But her narcissism rushed in to fill the void.

“You’re lying,” she whispered frantically, shaking her head. “You’re just trying to scare me so I don't leave you with nothing! You’re nothing, Marcus! You never had real power! Julian Rhodes is ten times the man you could ever dream of being, and Evelyn was ten times the woman I am! She was right about you! Leaving her was the stupidest thing you ever did, and now you’re going to die in a cage!”

With that final, crushing blow, Chloe yanked open the heavy oak door and sprinted down the front steps toward the waiting car.

Marcus stood in the empty, cavernous foyer, the cold night wind howling through the open doorway, blowing dry leaves across the polished marble floor.

*“Leaving her was the stupidest thing you ever did.”*

The words bounced off the twenty-foot ceilings, mocking him, tearing through the last fragile scraps of his sanity. He sank down onto the bottom step of the staircase, burying his bloodied face in his hands, weeping uncontrollable, bitter tears into the darkness.

Outside, the tail lights of the Uber disappeared down the winding driveway into the night.