HE IGNORED HIS PREGNANT WIFE’S DESPERATE CALLS WHILE DINING WITH HIS MISTRESS—UNAWARE SHE HAD JUST LOST THEIR BABY! BUT WHEN HE FINALLY CALLED BACK, A LAWYER ANSWERED… AND HIS WORLD CAME CRASHING DOWN!

The Federal Building on Dearborn Street was a cold, monolithic structure of dark steel and tinted glass.

Forty-eight hours after Sebastian had signed the civil judgment, Vanessa Albright walked out of the building’s revolving doors, surrounded by two defense attorneys and shielding her face behind oversized designer sunglasses. The Chicago press corps swarmed her like vultures.

"Miss Albright! Did you know the Miami condo was bought with stolen Vance Trust money?!"

"Vanessa! Are you cooperating with the SEC against Sebastian Sterling?!"

"Is it true you traded immunity for his private text messages?!"

Vanessa said nothing, pushing her way aggressively through the flashing cameras toward an idling Uber Black. Her designer handbag was gone; her accounts were frozen under federal subpoena, and she had spent the last six hours in an interrogation room singing like a canary to avoid being named as a co-conspirator in federal wire fraud.

Inside the vehicle, she collapsed against the leather seat, panting with exhaustion and fury.

Her phone buzzed. A private number.

Thinking it was her lead attorney, she answered sharply, "I told you, I gave them every text! I gave them the screenshots of him promising the funding! What else do they want?!"

"Vanessa."

The voice on the other end was hollow, broken, and raspy.

Vanessa froze. Her expression twisted into pure disgust. "Sebastian? How are you calling me? I told your lawyer that if you contacted me again, I’d file for harassment!"

"Vanessa, please... don't hang up," Sebastian begged, speaking from a payphone near the Greyhound bus terminal. He was wearing an old hooded sweatshirt, his collar pulled up against the biting wind. "I saw the news. They said you turned over our private correspondence. You told the SEC that I coerced you? That you were an innocent victim?"

"You ruined my life!" Vanessa shrieked through the speaker. "Do you have any idea what my name is worth now?! Nothing! My brand partnerships dropped me in twenty-four hours! Elite Model Management terminated my contract! The feds took my apartment, they took my car, they even seized the jewelry you bought me!"

"I gave up everything for you!" Sebastian yelled back, his voice cracking with hysteria. "I abandoned my wife! I let my child die because I was trying to impress you! I signed away my entire life two days ago to keep the feds from locking us both up!"

"I never asked you to kill your baby, you psycho!" Vanessa spat viciously, her words stabbing directly into his gut. "You wanted a trophy! You wanted to feel like a big, powerful man because you knew deep down that your wife was smarter than you, richer than you, and better than you! You used me to stroke your pathetic ego, Sebastian! You’re not a visionary! You’re a pathetic, middle-aged fraud who rode his wife's coattails and crashed the second she took her hands off the wheel!"

"Vanessa—"

"Don't ever say my name again. Lose this number, lose my life. Enjoy the gutter, Sebastian. It’s where you belong."

Click.

The call terminated.

Sebastian stood in the freezing wind, the plastic phone receiver pressed against his ear, listening to the monotonous, empty dial tone. Around him, the city of Chicago moved on. Commuters in warm coats hurried home to their families. Luxury cars glided past on the wet asphalt.