MY HUSBAND THREW HIS WEDDING RING AT ME FOR HIS PREGNANT MISTRESS—HE HAD NO IDEA I OWNED HIS EMPIRE.

Everett knew my name because someone had broken the confidentiality rules.

Ruth traced the leak to a file downloaded from the investor portal at 3:04 that morning. The user had access through the outside law firm handling Wardbridge's latest financing. The download went to an address ending in price-advisory.com.

“Vanessa's brother again,” June said.

“It's an indicator, not proof,” Ruth replied. “We follow the trail.”

I wanted someone to blame. Ruth wanted something a judge would believe.

A few hours later, the hotel sent us the gala footage after our formal preservation request. In one camera angle, Vanessa waited with her wine while Diane watched from beside the dessert table. Everett came toward them, nodded, and turned to face me. The throw happened seconds later.

“I know that look,” June said. “He's getting ready for a performance.”

I watched without speaking. Seeing the cruelty replayed hurt, but seeing Everett arrange himself beside Vanessa before she lifted the glass was worse.

Ruth paused the video. “This doesn't establish everything they discussed. It does establish the sequence.”

The next clip showed Diane signaling toward the security team before Everett called for them. They had expected me to be removed.

At noon, Everett's attorney sent a letter demanding I stop interfering with company operations or face a lawsuit for sabotage. Attached was a sworn declaration from Vanessa claiming she feared for her safety around me.

I read it twice. “I never touched her.”

“That's why we have footage,” Ruth said.

Then another email arrived, this one from an unfamiliar address. It contained a screenshot of a draft announcement from Wardbridge's communications team.