Chapter 1: Ten Minutes
Desmond struck my shoulder hard enough to send me stumbling into a champagne table.
Crystal glasses rattled.
A few toppled against each other with sharp little chimes that somehow sounded louder than the jazz quartet playing across the ballroom.
Two hundred employees turned to look at us.
My husband didn't apologize.
He leaned close enough that I could smell the whiskey on his breath.
"Go home, Wren," Desmond whispered.
"She belongs beside me tonight.""
She.
Isolde Vale.
The woman standing at his side in a fitted red gown, one hand resting possessively on his arm.
And hanging from her ears were my diamonds.
I recognized them instantly.
My grandmother had given me those earrings three weeks before she died.
Desmond had claimed he didn't know where they'd gone.
Now I knew.
Isolde touched one glittering stone and smiled.
"Wren," she said sweetly, "perhaps this isn't the right evening for a domestic scene.""
My shoulder burned beneath my midnight-blue dress.
But I refused to touch it.
I straightened the strap Desmond had knocked sideways and looked around the ballroom.
Executives pretended to study their drinks.
Junior employees suddenly found the floor fascinating.
People had seen what Desmond did.
Every single one of them.
And not one person moved.
That told me more about Corvina Systems than any financial report ever could.
"No," I said quietly.
"I think I'll stay for the announcement.""
Desmond's face tightened.
"The announcement is for executives.""
He glanced at Isolde.
She smiled.
Then he looked back at me.
"Not decorative wives.""
Isolde laughed softly.
My stomach twisted, but I didn't give either of them the satisfaction of seeing it.
Six months earlier, that sentence might have destroyed me.
Six months earlier, I had still believed my marriage was merely unhappy.
I had believed Desmond worked late because Corvina was struggling.
I had believed his sudden obsession with privacy came from stress.
I had believed Isolde was only his director of strategic partnerships.
Then I discovered the hotel receipts.
The private dinners.
The apartment Corvina was quietly paying for.
And finally, the emails.
Desmond wasn't merely sleeping with Isolde.
He was preparing to leave me after securing the promotion he believed would make him Corvina's next chief executive.
What he didn't know was that I'd stopped crying weeks ago.
I'd started buying.
Across the ballroom, Chairman Elias Voss caught my eye.
Silver-haired and perfectly composed, he touched two fingers to his cuff.
Our signal.
Ten minutes.
I picked up a glass of sparkling water.
"Enjoy the next ten minutes," I told my husband.
Desmond's fingers closed around my wrist.
"What does that mean?""
His grip was tight.
Too tight.
I looked down at his hand.
Then back into his eyes.
"It means you should listen carefully.""
"Stop playing games.""
"I'm not playing.""
Isolde stepped closer.
"Desmond, forget her. Tonight is about your future.""
I almost smiled.
She had no idea how correct she was.
Desmond released my wrist and adjusted his tuxedo jacket.
"You know what your problem is, Wren?""
I said nothing.
"You've spent ten years thinking being married to me makes you important.""
A few nearby employees heard him.
One woman visibly winced.
Desmond continued anyway.
"You don't understand this company. You don't understand business. You don't understand what it takes to build something.""
That one nearly made me laugh.
Because Corvina Systems had been founded using technology developed by my father's research firm.
Because the Ashcombe family trust had quietly financed Corvina during its worst year.
Because when Corvina's largest institutional investor decided to exit four months earlier, Chairman Voss had called me before anyone else.
And because Desmond had never bothered learning anything about my finances.
He assumed my money was family money.
Old money.
Passive money.
He never understood that I had spent eight years managing Ashcombe Capital after my father's death.
Desmond saw the dresses.
The charity dinners.
The wife who stood quietly beside him.
He never bothered asking what happened after I walked into my office every morning.
The lights dimmed.
Conversation faded.
Chairman Voss climbed the stage.
Desmond immediately forgot I existed.
He smoothed his jacket and gave Isolde a confident smile.
"This is it," she whispered.
"I told you," Desmond replied.
He believed Voss was about to announce his promotion.
I knew because Desmond had spent the previous week practicing his acceptance speech in our bathroom mirror.
Chairman Voss reached the microphone.
"Good evening.""
Applause filled the ballroom.
"Corvina Systems has entered a new chapter.""
Desmond lifted his chin.
Isolde slipped her hand through his arm.
"Tonight," Voss continued, "we welcome the investor who has acquired fifty-eight percent of Corvina Systems.""
The ballroom erupted in murmurs.
Desmond's smile flickered.
He hadn't expected that part.
Neither had most of the room.
Voss waited.
Then smiled directly at me.
"Please welcome our new majority owner, Ms. Wren Ashcombe.""
Silence.
Pure, impossible silence.
I placed my glass on the table.
Somebody behind me gasped.
Isolde's hand dropped from Desmond's arm.
I walked past them.
Desmond caught my elbow.
"Wren.""
For the first time that evening, his voice trembled.
I turned.
His face had gone pale.
"This is some kind of joke.""
"No.""
"You bought shares?""
"Fifty-eight percent.""
"That's impossible.""
Chairman Voss was waiting onstage.
Two hundred people were watching us again.
Only this time, nobody was looking at me with pity.
I gently removed Desmond's hand from my arm.
"You were right about one thing," I whispered.
"What?""
"Tonight is about your future.""
Then I walked toward the stage.
Applause began hesitantly.
One person.
Then five.
Then fifty.
By the time I reached the stairs, the ballroom was roaring.
Chairman Voss extended his hand.
I took it.
When I turned toward the crowd, I found Desmond immediately.
He stood frozen beneath the chandeliers.
Isolde was whispering furiously into his ear.
I stepped to the microphone.
"Thank you, Chairman Voss.""
My voice carried through the ballroom.
"I've spent several months studying Corvina from a perspective most investors never get.""
Desmond stared at me.
I let the silence stretch.
"From inside the executive floor.""
His eyes widened.
Because now he understood.
I hadn't only bought his company.
May you like
I knew what he'd been doing inside it.
And the first person I intended to discuss was standing right beside him.
