Chapter Three

"Have you signed them yet, Andrea?!"

Veronica’s voice cracked as she marched back and forth across the marble floor, her heels slamming down hard against the shiny tiles. She grabbed the tablet off the glass coffee table, her eyes glued to the divorce papers Vanessa’s lawyer had just sent over.

"No, I haven't signed yet. I just walked through the door, Mum, to deal with this nonsense," Andrea said. He kicked back against the couch cushions, waving his hand like it was no big deal, though his jaw was set tight. *Who did she think she was, rushing him like this?*

"If you let this go through, who is going to pay the rent next month? Who is paying for Leo’s private school?!" Veronica threw her arms in the air, her face turning dark red. "Vanessa’s money pays for everything in this house! We can't afford to lose our cash cow! Do you have any idea what happens to us if her paycheck stops coming in on the first of the month?!"

Susan sat curled up on the other sofa, holding a frozen bag of peas against her legs where the heavy laundry basket had bruised her earlier. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced out a few tears, fanning her face with her long nails.

"It's not just the money, Auntie," Susan whined, her voice nasal and weak as she pulled on Andrea's sleeve. "Who is going to cook for us? Who is going to sweep, scrub the toilets, and wash Leo's clothes by hand? Detergent gives me terrible rashes! I am not going to be a maid in my own home! And did you see how she looked at me right before she walked out? Like a crazy dog—screaming about how she finally figured us out, acting like I ruined *her* life just because she realized we have history!"

She let out a harsh, fake sob and wiped her dry cheeks with a tissue. "Like she even has the right to judge our history! As if she wasn't just a useful distraction while I waited for the family issues to clear up! She really thought she was the real wife, totally blind to how Andrea and I built our actual life right under her nose before she ever showed up."

"Shut up, Susan!" Veronica barked, turning on her so fast Susan flinched. "Stop complaining about chores! I wonder how she even found out in the first place! You were supposed to keep her on a leash, act normal, and keep her in the dark—not ruin the whole thing!"

"Mom, I didn't mean to—" Susan squeaked, pulling back into the cushions.

"Both of you, quiet down. I'll sign the stupid papers," Andrea snapped, his anger completely washing out the small bad feeling in his gut. "She's just throwing a little fit. She has nowhere else to go anyway. She'll be back on her knees begging by tonight, and then we'll make her pay for this."

"That's a bad idea, Andrea," Veronica whispered, holding her hand over her racing heart. "What if she doesn't come back?"

"She will, Mom. Look at her! She has no family, no real friends, and not a single dollar of her own. She'll come begging."

Just to be petty, Andrea grabbed the digital pen off the table, opened the signature line, and scribbled his name across the bottom. Let her look at the signed divorce papers and realize she messed up.

He pressed send. Done.

Across the street, sitting in the front seat of her rental car under the hot sun, Vanessa's phone buzzed on the seat beside her.

Lawyer: Andrea has signed. The divorce is officially finalized and filed.

Vanessa stared at the notification, the last bit of stress in her chest completely disappearing.

He actually signed it. The fool really thought she was bluffing, probably expecting her to sit in a hot parking lot waiting for his call so she could hand over her salary.

She swiped over to her private bank app and logged in.

Balance: $50,000,000.00 USD.

A simple message from her attorney popped up underneath: *Inheritance funds fully cleared and deposited.*

Fifty million dollars.

It was more than enough. More than enough to buy the big, gated villa up on the hill right across from Andrea's building, build a deep underground shelter, put up solar panels, dig a private water well, and stock up on years of food before the sky turned to fire and the heat destroyed the city.

She looked at the numbers on the screen, and a wave of pure disgust hit her as she thought back to her past life.

She remembered how pathetic she used to be. She remembered freezing every winter in the same cheap, thin coat for three years straight so Andrea’s mother could go on luxury spa trips. She remembered sitting at the kitchen table at two in the morning, her fingers sore and bleeding as she glued the soles of her old work shoes back together, while Susan dumped designer shopping bags on the counter and made fun of her for being cheap.

And whenever money got tight? They would sit her down like she was on trial, staring at her with cold eyes, picking apart every dollar she spent like her exhaustion was an insult to them. They spent her hard-earned money like water, treated her worse than a dog, and blamed her whenever there was nothing left.

She remembered the nights she had cried herself to sleep in the quiet dark of the hallway, wondering why nothing she did was ever good enough for them. She had cooked three square meals a day, ironed Andrea's shirts until her arms throbbed, and managed every single household expense out of her own pocket, only to be spoken to like garbage.

Every word out of Veronica's mouth had been a criticism, every glance from Susan a subtle mocking sneer, and Andrea had simply watched it all happen with a satisfied smile, taking every bit of her effort for granted.

Let's see them scrub their own floors when the power grid shuts down.

A cold, quiet smile spread across Vanessa's face. She locked her phone.

Her fingers moved quickly across the glass as she dialed the contractor, the generator supplier, and the real estate agent for the hilltop villa right across the street.

She was done being their maid and their bank account. She was going to take care of herself, build her shelter, and watch them burn from above.

Forty days left. The parasites were out of her life. It was time to build her fortress.