I never told my ex-husband or his wealthy family that I was the secret owner of the multi-billion dollar company where they all worked. To them, I was just the “poor, pregnant burden” they tolerated out of obligation.

I took a deep breath.

Not for them.

For my daughter.

Jessica laughed again.

“Who are you calling? A charity? It’s Sunday, honey.”

“Brendan,” Diane sighed while pouring more wine, “give her twenty dollars for a cab and make her disappear.”

I didn’t answer.

I opened the contact saved as “Arthur – EVP Legal” and waited.

He answered on the first ring.

“Cassidy?” he said immediately. “Are you alright?”

I looked Brendan straight in the eyes.

“No. Execute Protocol 7. Now.”

There was a brief silence on the other end.

Arthur knew exactly what that order meant.

“Cassidy… if I activate it,” he said cautiously, “the Morrisons could lose everything.”

“They already lost it,” I replied, placing the phone on the glass table. “Make it effective.”

Brendan frowned.

“Protocol 7? What the hell is that? Another one of your dramas?”

I held his gaze while the water continued to fall from my hair onto the pristine floor.

Then, outside, we heard brakes.