The CEO’s secretary slapped a new temp and claimed she was married to the boss—never knowing the "temp" was actually the billionaire heiress who owned 64% of the company.

The metallic click of the handcuffs echoing in the silent boardroom was the sweetest sound I had heard in three months.

Julian didn't fight as the officers pulled his arms behind his back. The arrogance that had sustained him for four years had vanished completely, leaving behind a small, broken man in an expensive suit.

As they led him toward the door, he stopped beside my chair, looking at me with hollow, tear-filled eyes.

"Maya..." he whispered, his voice cracking. "Please... don't do this to me. I'll give everything back. I'll get help. Just don't let them take me away."

I looked into his eyes, searching for any remnant of the man I had married seven years ago. But there was nothing left—only the empty shell of a liar who was only sorry because he got caught.

"You took my father's hard work and tried to sell it to his enemy, Julian," I said softly. "You took my love and gave it to a thief. You did this to yourself."

The officers pulled him out into the hallway. Celeste followed right behind him, wailing hysterically as her designer heels dragged against the carpet.

Every employee on the fifth floor stood outside their cubicles, watching in stunned silence as the former CEO and his assistant were marched out in handcuffs.

Once the hallway quieted down, Howard Vance walked over to me, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Your father would be so proud of you today, Maya," Howard said softly, a warm smile on his face. "You saved his life's work."

"Thank you, Howard," I smiled back, feeling a deep, quiet sense of relief wash over my body. "Now... we have a company to rebuild."

Over the next two weeks, the corporate structure of Hartwell Industries underwent a massive transformation.

I officially stepped into the role of Executive Chairwoman. I appointed Arthur Vance as Interim CEO while we conducted a national search for a permanent leader who shared my father's vision of integrity and hard work.

Every supplier contract Julian had touched was audited. The stolen $2.25 million was frozen in offshore accounts by federal authorities, with full restitution proceedings already underway.

As for our Gold Coast mansion, I had it completely cleared out. Julian's clothes, watches, and personal belongings were packed into cheap cardboard boxes and sent directly to his defense attorney's office.

I hired a team of master decorators to redesign the interior, filling the house with bright colors, warm light, and flowers, erasing every memory of his betrayal.

One afternoon, three weeks after the arrest, Richard Sterling walked into my new corner office on the fifth floor holding a thick stack of legal documents.

"The divorce is final, Maya," Richard announced, setting the paper down before me. "Julian's criminal defense attorney signed the uncontested decree this morning. He forfeited all claims to the family trust, the house, and your personal assets."

"And the criminal charges?" I asked, picking up the pen.

"The federal prosecutor isn't offering a plea deal," Richard smiled sharply. "With the voice notes, wire logs, and Celeste's testimony against him, Julian is looking at a mandatory minimum of twelve years in federal prison. Celeste accepted a six-year plea bargain in exchange for full cooperation."