Chapter 4

The roar of an engine grinder echoed off the steel walls of my new fortress. 

I stood in the center of the fifty-thousand-square-foot logistics warehouse, watching a crew of six men weld the secondary blast doors into place. 

The air smelled of ozone, melting steel, and dust. It was the smell of security. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, expecting a text from Arthur, my lawyer, confirming the final transfer of the property deed. Instead, it was a security alert from the outer gate camera. 

I tapped the screen. A black luxury sedan was idling at the pedestrian access door. Standing in front of the intercom, looking like a pair of rabid dogs denied entry to a butcher shop, were Marcus and his mother, Evelyn.

 I sighed, slipping the phone back into my pocket. I had hoped the restraining order Arthur filed that morning would keep them at bay. Apparently, Marcus’s entitlement was stronger than his fear of legal consequences.

 I signaled the foreman to pause the welding and walked toward the front office. When I pushed open the heavy steel door to the loading bay, the heat of the afternoon sun hit me.

 Marcus was standing there, his right arm resting in a makeshift sling. His face was a mottled, ugly shade of purple. Beside him, Evelyn was practically vibrating with rage, her expensive designer sunglasses pushed up into her perfectly styled hair. "You ungrateful little wretch!" Evelyn shrieked the second she saw me. She didn't wait for an invitation. 

She marched forward, her finger pointing directly at my chest. "I raised that boy to be a gentleman, and you treat him like a stray dog! 

You locked us out, you humiliated us, and now you’re hiding in this filthy dump!"I didn't flinch. I just leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "It’s called a logistics warehouse, Evelyn. And it’s mine. Which means you’re trespassing."Marcus stepped forward, his good hand balling into a fist. 

"Stop playing games, Scarlett. We know about the property. I saw the commercial registry update. You bought a fifty-thousand-square-foot warehouse with our marital funds.""Our marital funds?" I let out a short, dry laugh. "Marcus, you haven't paid a utility bill in three years. The only thing you contributed to this marriage was your massive ego and a secret mistress.

"Evelyn gasped, clutching her pearls. "How dare you accuse my son of cheating! Chloe is his cousin!""Keep telling yourself that," I said, my voice deadpan. "Maybe if you repeat it enough, the DNA test I’m running on her kid will magically change its results."Marcus’s eyes widened, but he quickly masked his panic with a sneer.

 "You’re bluffing. You’re just trying to distract us. Here’s how this is going to go. You are going to transfer seventy-five million dollars into my personal account right now. That is my half of the marital assets. If you don't, I will tie you up in litigation until you are begging for mercy."I stared at him. 

The sheer, staggering audacity of the man was almost impressive. He was standing in front of me, broke, humiliated, and nursing a broken wrist, and he still thought he could extort me. "Seventy-five million," I repeated, letting the words hang in the hot air. 

"Exactly," Marcus said, his chest puffing out. "Cash. By five o'clock today. Or I swear to God, Scarlett, I will ruin you."I pushed myself off the doorframe and took a slow step forward. "Let me explain something to you, Marcus. The one hundred and fifty million in my account isn't a marital asset. 

It’s an irrevocable bloodline trust. It was set up by my biological parents before I even knew they existed. Legally, it doesn't belong to me as an individual, and it certainly doesn't belong to you as a husband.

 It belongs to the Vance Family Trust. You have zero claim to it. Not a single cent.""Liar!" Marcus roared. He lunged at me. It was a stupid, emotional, completely uncoordinated swing aimed at my shoulder. In my past life, that punch would have knocked me to the ground. I would have cried, and Evelyn would have laughed. But I wasn't that dependent, pathetic woman anymore.

 I didn't even blink. I slipped inside his guard, dropping my center of gravity. My left hand came up to block his forearm, while my right hand shot out and grabbed the collar of his shirt. Using his own forward momentum, I pivoted on my heel and threw him. Marcus flew over my hip and hit the concrete pavement with a bone-rattling smack.

 Before he could even gasp for air, I dropped my knee hard into the center of his back, pinning him to the ground. I grabbed his injured right wrist—the one he already broke in the tactical store—and pulled it up behind his back, applying precise, agonizing pressure to the joint. "Ah! Fuck! Scarlett, stop! You're breaking it!" he screamed, his face pressing into the dirty asphalt. "I'm just reminding you of your place," I whispered, leaning down so my mouth was right next to his ear.

 "You thought you could bully me because I was a lonely orphan who wanted a family. But I'm not an orphan, Marcus. I'm a Vance. And you are nothing.""Get your hands off my son!" 

Evelyn shrieked. She lunged at me, her manicured hands aiming for my hair. I didn't let go of Marcus. I just kicked my leg out, catching Evelyn squarely in the shin. She yelped, stumbling forward.

 As she fell, I reached out with my free hand, grabbed a fistful of her expensive silk blouse, and yanked her down so hard she choked. I kept Marcus pinned with my knee, and held Evelyn by the collar, her face inches from the dirty pavement. "Listen to me very carefully," I said, my voice dropping to a freezing, lethal calm. "If either of you ever comes to my property again, I won't just call the police. 

I will have my legal team sue you for harassment, trespassing, and emotional distress. I will take the house. I will take the cars. I will take the clothes off your back. 

Do you understand me?"Evelyn was sobbing now, completely broken. "Yes," she whimpered. "Yes, okay!"I released her and stood up, dusting off my jeans. I looked down at Marcus, who was curled in a fetal position, cradling his wrist and gasping for air. "The foreman is calling the cops," I said casually, checking my watch.

 "You have about three minutes to get off my property before they arrive. I'd suggest running, Evelyn. Those heels aren't great for cardio."I turned my back on them and walked into the warehouse, pulling the heavy steel door shut behind me.

 The locking mechanism engaged with a heavy, satisfying clack. Through the reinforced glass of the office window, I watched them scramble to their feet. Evelyn was limping heavily, crying into her hands, while Marcus practically dragged her to their sedan. They peeled out of the driveway, nearly taking out the outer gate in their haste to escape.

It felt good. But it wasn't enough. Humiliating them was just scratching the surface. In my past life, they had taken everything from me. Now, I was just taking their pride. Eventually, I would take their survival.