My future mother-in-law locked me inside her house, shoved her pregnant daughter-in-law against the wall, and demanded my ATM card to pay for a wedding I was already funding myself. My fiancé stood in front of the locked door, called me selfish for refusing, and warned that no one else would ever want a pregnant woman—but they had no idea they had just made the biggest mistake of their lives.

The following afternoon, I stood inside my luxury townhouse, watching two locksmiths rekey the heavy front door and install an upgraded electronic security system.

Ethan’s clothes, his expensive watches, his golf clubs, and his designer suits were all packed neatly into six black trash bags sitting on the curb outside.

My phone rang. It was an unknown number, but I answered it anyway, putting it on speaker.

"Lena! Please don't hang up!"

It was Margaret’s voice. She sounded frantic, breathless, and completely devoid of her usual arrogant polish.

"How did you get out?" I asked coldly.

"My sister posted our bail an hour ago," Margaret rushed out, her words tumbling over each other. "Lena, you have to talk to the district attorney! Ethan is in a holding cell panicking! He’s a young businessman, Lena! If these criminal charges go through, his reputation will be destroyed! His company will collapse!"

"His company is already a fraudulent shell, Margaret," I said flatly. "And he forged my signature to take out a half-million-dollar loan on my home."

Silence hung on the line for three full seconds before Margaret’s tone instantly shifted from desperate begging back to pure venom.

"You arrogant, ungrateful little bitch," Margaret spat. "We welcomed you into our family! We gave you status! Do you really think a pregnant, single woman in this city is going to raise a child alone without people whispering behind her back? Drop the charges, or I will make sure everyone in our social circle knows you’re an unstable, vindictive liar!"

"Go right ahead, Margaret," I said softly. "Because while you're talking to your social circle, my legal team will be sending subpoenas to your bank."

"What are you talking about?" she demanded, a sudden flutter of panic returning to her voice.

"I know about the offshore transfer account in the Cayman Islands, Margaret," I lied smoothly, testing a theory Adrian’s team had mentioned earlier. "The forensic auditors are looking at it right now."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the line, followed immediately by the sound of the call disconnecting.