“Monica,” Derek said, his voice dropping into a low, warning register that usually made my stomach clench. “Stop this right now.”

“I cannot stop a court order, Derek,” I said.

I pointed to the second document beneath the petition.

“That is an emergency injunction,” I said. “It was signed by a judge at four o’clock this afternoon.”

Derek’s eyes scanned the document, his pupils darting back and forth behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

His face was losing its color, the red flush of anger fading into a dull, chalky gray.

“An injunction for what?” Richard asked.

Richard looked between us, his eyebrows knitted together in a hard line.

He was a man who hated surprises, especially ones that occurred outside the boardroom.

“To freeze all marital and corporate assets associated with Derek’s name,” I said.

Derek slammed his hand onto the table.

The silver dessert forks jumped, clattering against the lace runner.

“This is ridiculous,” Derek said, his voice rising. “She is unstable, Richard. She has been having some kind of episode for weeks.”

“I am perfectly stable, Derek,” I said.

I reached for my napkin and patted my lips.