Connected Speaker, Disconnected Husband

Donna worked faster than the FBI. Half an hour later, my phone buzzed.A link. And her snark: [Presenting the performance of the year from our fake-sweetheart actress. Evidence chain so airtight I feel guilty charging you full price. Enjoy.]I tapped it open. Abigail's public account.Front and center: a close-up of her wrist flaunting the MK bracelet I knew by heart.Caption: [The moon is coming to you, MR. K.]My "Baby Moon."My MK bracelet.Now paraded around as someone else's prize.Expressionless, I kept scrolling.One shot—our study. Abigail cupping her face, smiling like butter wouldn't melt, with my rare Italian architecture books stacked in the background.Caption: [Soaking up knowledge in MR. K's study, I feel like I'm improving too!]Next—her holding a pen over a blueprint. Not just any pen—the limited-edition one I gave Matthew for his thirtieth.Caption: [The pen MR. K gave me is amazing. He said my hands deserve the best.]Then our favorite restaurant, table

Abigail's eyes narrowed, a flicker of nerves breaking through her smug glow.I didn't bother with the host. I headed straight for the stage, heels clicking like a countdown in their ears.The host twitched, ready to block me, but one look shut him down. He stepped aside.The mic was cold in my hand, grounding me."Hello, everyone." My voice rang out smooth, steady. "I'm Selene Watson, founder of Dreamforge Studio."Gasps rippled—most of them knew exactly who I was.I let the pause hang, then zeroed in on the man at the judges' table, his face already draining of color."And," I added, "wife of Matthew Kein."Gasps tore through the hall.All eyes ping-ponged between Matthew and me—shock, gossip, curiosity—like a thousand little knives shredding the perfect mask he'd worn for years.I let the whispers buzz and turned to the computer. One click, and Abigail's glossy renderings blinked out, replaced by my own folders—lined up neatly by date."Ms. Barne's design is definitely 'in

I muted the shareholders' group—empty chatter wasn't worth a second more of my time.I drove straight to Donna's firm. She was waiting out front, laptop tucked under her arm. The second she spotted me, she yanked open the door and slid in."Don't go home, and don't set foot in the office." She dropped the laptop onto her lap, fingers flying across the keys. "Matthew's probably running around like a rabid dog right now. First, we strip him bare."She kept muttering curses, but her typing never slowed.We holed up in a private room at a café, shutting the world out.I watched her tear through databases, code flying under her fingers. Lines of data zipped past until the screen froze on a registration page."Nebula Studio," Donna read, her laugh sharp and cold. "Registered under some Dominic Barne. Total ghost. Fake ID. But the offshore trust account linked to it?" She swiveled the screen toward me. "That ring any bells?"The bank name. The digits. They seared into my eyes like a br

Once you're down, everyone lines up to kick you.Stripped bare, Matthew must've borrowed some jailhouse phone, because he called me, freaking out.All I heard were choked sobs. Then: "Selene."I was wrong, I swear! Please, give me another chance. Abigail tricked me, that witch messed with my head—I wasn't myself!"He kept going, piling everything on her. By the end, he even got nostalgic."Remember when we started Dreamforge? Staying up all night sketching, surviving on plain buns. You said it was our dream—our dream together—"His whining made my skin crawl."Done?" I cut in. "Good. Hanging up now. International calls aren't cheap."He choked, then cranked the sobs up a notch.I hung up and blocked him.Two blissful days later, Abigail appeared.Not knocking—just parked herself outside my building.Rush hour crowd streaming past, and there she was in a flimsy hospital gown, hair wrecked, skin ghostly, that once-cute face streaked with tears. She sat on the curb, bawling li

I skipped the sentencing.Donna filled me in over the phone, practically buzzing. "Guilty on all counts—heavy sentence! Selene, did you hear me? Heavy!"Matthew collapsed right there, had to be hauled out like a trash bag. Abigail wasn't better—crying, screaming she was coerced. Too bad that recording she proudly gave you nailed her to the wall."Judge even said adults gotta pay for their greed and stupidity."I just hummed, hung up.The sun was warm. I watered the balcony plants, trimmed a few dead leaves.It was finally over.***Two weeks later, I'd clawed back most of the stolen assets and reshaped Dreamforge Studio.At our first all-hands, the place was packed—vets mixed with fresh hires, the air thick with nerves.No speeches. I just threw the contract up on the screen."This is the new deal for Horizon Spire. The client wants it done by Dreamforge Studio—and only by me."The room froze, then exploded into applause.I looked around at their faces and smiled. "The mes