“Now, you have nothing.”

Margaret Voss let out a quiet, dry cough from the corner.

“Actually, Mr. Holloway has nothing,” Margaret corrected, looking down at her notepad.

“The Holloway estate remains protected under the original trust, which is now fully under the control of your wife.”

Grant turned his head toward me, his eyes wide and bloodshot.

The realization of what he had done was finally sinking in.

By leaving me in this hospital bed, by trying to strip away my rights to our children, he had triggered the very clause that ruined him.

And his mistress had been preparing to sell the remains of his empire to his greatest rival.

“This isn’t over,” Grant said, his teeth clenched so hard his jaw muscle jumped.

He threw Vanessa’s phone against the wall.

The glass shattered, pieces of the screen scattering across the floor near my bed.

Vanessa didn’t look at the broken phone.

She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, her heels clicking down the hallway until the sound faded away.

Grant stood alone in the center of the room, looking smaller than he ever had.