On my wedding day, my husband and my adopted stepsister proudly held their newborn twins and announced it to me.

The apartment?

Purchased through my trust.

Even the wedding itself?

Funded through my foundation as a charitable tax event because Derek insisted on inviting investors.

He married the signature.

Not the woman.

Lena lifted her chin desperately. “This is pathetic. Maya’s jealous.”

I turned toward the camera crew near the back wall. “Are you still streaming to the overflow ballroom?”

The cameraman swallowed nervously. “Yes.”

“Excellent.”

“Maya,” Derek hissed sharply.

I ignored him completely and addressed the room.

“Since my husband decided honesty should happen publicly, let’s continue in that spirit.”

My attorney, Mr. Sato, calmly stood from table twelve.

Small. Gray-haired. Absolutely terrifying.