My mother-in-law told me to get on my knees and wash her feet, so I threw the water in her face and handed her family their eviction notice.

At 2:00 PM that afternoon, Daniel arrived at Finch’s legal offices. He had not slept in forty-eight hours. His designer suit was wrinkled, his stubble was unkempt, and the arrogant swagger that had defined him for years was completely shattered.

He was escorted into the glass-walled conference room where Arthur Finch and I were waiting. Daniel didn't even sit down. He dropped to his knees right on the plush wool carpet, crawling toward my chair.

"Lauren, please," he wept, tears streaming down his face as he reached out to clasp his hands together in supplication. "You have to help me. The FBI was at my warehouse this morning. Apex Capital repossessed all our trucks. My brother is talking about running to Mexico. Please, I’m begging you! You have forty million dollars! Just lend me five million! I’ll sign whatever you want! I’ll sign a post-nuptial agreement giving up everything! Just save me from going to prison!"

I looked down at the man I had shared a bed with for eighteen months. The man who had held my wrist in our bedroom and told me that a good wife obeys her husband. The man whose mother had demanded I wash her feet while he stood by and smiled.

"Do you remember what you said to me on the night my father died, Daniel?" I asked quietly.

Daniel blinked through his tears, confused, his mind racing. "I... I told you I loved you! I told you I would take care of you forever!"

"No," I said, leaning forward. "You told me that grief was a waste of time for people who had work to do. And then you asked me where my father kept the keys to his safe deposit box."

Daniel’s mouth fell open. He had forgotten. He had been so consumed by his greed that he didn't even realize the mask had slipped on the very day my heart was broken.

Finch pushed a heavy manila envelope across the polished mahogany table.

"These are your uncontested divorce papers," Finch said. "You will surrender all claims to any marital property, you will acknowledge the debt as entirely your own, and you will sign an immediate confession of judgment regarding the forged collateral documents."

Daniel stared at the papers like they were a death warrant. "And... and in exchange? Will you drop the charges? Will you pay off Apex?"

"No," I said, standing up and smoothing my skirt. "In exchange, I won't ask the state prosecutor to seek the maximum twenty-year penalty for aggravated corporate fraud. You’ll serve eight years instead of twenty. That is the only mercy you will ever receive from me."