Eight months pregnant and dead broke, I stood in the freezing divorce court rain while my ex tossed me a single $100 bill for a homeless shelter cab, his mistress smirking beside him wearing my dead mother’s stolen diamond necklace.

The hospital was cold, sterile, smelling of antiseptic and fear.

Two of Nathaniel’s security guards stood outside Jonathan’s room, hands on their guns, eyes sharp.

Nathaniel stood beside me, his hand in mine, his face tight.

"Remember the earpiece," he said, for the tenth time.

"I’ll be right outside. If anything goes wrong, if he so much as looks at you funny, you say the word and we’re in there. And you don’t give him anything. No promises. No deals. Just listen. Get the information. And get out. Okay?"

I nodded, my stomach in knots.

I hadn’t seen Jonathan since the night at the mill.

Since he’d held a gun to my daughter’s head.

Since he’d tried to kill us all.

I didn’t want to be in the same room as him.

But I had to be.

For Clara.

For our family.

I pushed open the door, walking in alone.

Jonathan was in the bed, hooked up to a dozen machines, his face pale, his left arm in a sling, bandages wrapped around his chest.

He looked like a ghost of the man he’d been—thin, weak, his eyes sunken into his head.

But when he saw me, he smirked.

The same cruel smirk I’d seen a hundred times before.

"Grace," he said, his voice rough, hoarse.

"You came. I knew you would. You’ve always been so easy to manipulate."

I didn’t sit down.

I stood by the door, my hand on the handle, ready to run.

"What do you want, Jonathan?" I said, my voice steady.

"You said you had information about Elias. Talk. I don’t have all day."

He laughed, a dry, hacking sound that made him wince in pain.

"Always in such a hurry. Sit down. We have a lot to talk about. You and me. Us."

"I’m not sitting," I said.

"Talk or I leave."

His smirk faded.

"Fine," he said, cold.

"You want to know about Elias? He’s not just my friend. He’s my partner. We’ve been working together for years. Long before you came along. We had a plan. I’d marry you, get my hands on your mother’s money, and Elias would help me hide it. We were gonna split it fifty-fifty. Then you found out about Nathaniel, and everything went to hell."

I froze.

"My mother’s money?" I whispered.

"What are you talking about? My mom was poor. She had nothing."

Jonathan laughed again.

"Oh, you really don’t know, do you? Clara Carter wasn’t just some poor foster kid. She was the sole heir to the Hale fortune. Two hundred and fifty million dollars. Her dad was Richard Hale, the tech billionaire. He left it all to her when he died. She never touched it. Never told anyone. Hid it in a trust fund, set up to go to her firstborn child when they turned twenty-five. That’s you, Grace. Two hundred and fifty million dollars. Waiting for you. All you had to do was turn twenty-five."

He leaned forward, his eyes glinting.

"I found out about it six months after we married. I married you for that money. Not for you. For the money. And Elias helped me. We were gonna fake your death, make it look like a car crash, take the money, and run. But then you got pregnant. And then Nathaniel found you. And we had to change the plan."

The room spun.

Two hundred and fifty million dollars.

My mom had been a billionaire’s daughter.

She’d hidden it from me to protect me.

And Jonathan had married me for it.

He’d never loved me.

Not even a little bit.

I’d just been a paycheck to him.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"Because Elias is gonna kill you for it," Jonathan said, like it was obvious.

"He doesn’t care about me. He doesn’t care about the company. All he cares about is that money. He’s gonna kill you, kill Nathaniel, kill Clara, and take it. He’s already got the paperwork forged. All he needs is for you to be dead. And he’s not gonna wait much longer. He’s got a team of hitmen flying in from Russia next week. They’re gonna hit the house in Aspen. Kill everyone. Make it look like a home invasion. And Elias walks away with two hundred and fifty million dollars. And Cross Meridian. And everything else Nathaniel owns."

He paused, looking at me, his face serious for the first time in his life.

"I know I’m a monster. I know I hurt you. I hurt Clara. I deserve to die in here. But I don’t want Elias to win. He’s worse than me. He’ll kill that baby without a second thought. And I won’t let that happen. She’s my daughter too. Even if I was too stupid to realize it until it was too late."

He reached under his pillow, pulling out a small USB drive, holding it out to me.

"Everything is on here. All the emails. All the bank records. All the plans. Proof of everything Elias has done. The insider trading lies. The threats. the hitmen. Everything. It’ll put him away for the rest of his life. Maybe longer."

I stared at the drive, not moving.

"Why should I trust you?" I said.

"You’ve lied to me every single time you’ve ever opened your mouth. This could be another trap."

"It’s not," he said, quiet.

"I’m dying, Grace. The doctors told me yesterday. The stab wounds got infected. I’ve got maybe a month, if I’m lucky. I’ve got nothing left to gain by lying. I just want to make sure Clara is safe. That’s all. Take the drive. Give it to the FBI. Stop Elias. Before he kills all of you."

I hesitated for a second, then walked over, taking the drive from his hand.

It was warm, from being under his pillow.

"If this is a trick," I said, "I will come back here and kill you myself. With my bare hands. And I won’t feel bad about it."

Jonathan smiled, a sad, broken smile.

"I know you will," he said.

"That’s why I know Clara is gonna be okay. She’s got your fire. She’s gonna grow up to be just like you. Strong. Brave. Better than both of us."

He paused, then said, soft, "Tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I wish I’d been better. That I wish I’d been the dad she deserved."

I didn’t answer.

I turned, walking to the door.

I had my hand on the handle when he spoke again.

"Grace?"

I stopped, but didn’t turn around.