The envelope was left on my pillow like a death sentence wrapped in silk. Inside: a copy of your marriage certificate—to someone else. Dated six months before we met.\n\nI sat on the edge of our bed—the one we bought together in Milan—and stared at the chandelier, wondering how many nights you lay here, whispering 'I love you' while knowing I was just part of the act. My hands didn’t shake. My breath didn’t catch. I simply smiled.\n\nBecause while you were busy building a lie, I quietly moved your offshore funds into accounts only I can access. You thought I was your secret? No. I was your successor. And now, I own everything you love—including the right to take it all away.