He looked at his mother, then at Claire, and then back to me, realizing that his family’s entire empire was sitting in the palm of my hand.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Maya, we are still husband and wife,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

“Our divorce papers are on my lawyer’s desk, Daniel,” I replied.

“But they aren’t signed,” he said quickly, a frantic note of hope rising in his voice. “We can fix this. I can make this right.”

I looked at him, feeling nothing but a dull, distant pity.

“You think you can fix three years of neglect and cruelty in one evening?” I asked.

“I didn’t know,” he pleaded, reaching out a hand toward me, though he kept his arm low so the crowd wouldn’t see. “If I had known what you were dealing with, the pressure you were under…”

“You mean if you had known I had money,” I corrected him.

Claire watched her brother, her expression shifting from anger to a sudden, horrified comprehension of what Daniel was trying to do.