Married to the man who ruined me.

The call came at 9:47 p.m.

Ariella Quinn almost didn't answer it.

Her phone buzzed against the wooden bedside table, the vibration sharp in the quiet room. She glanced at the screen without much interest, already annoyed.

It was an unknown number.

She turned back to her laptop.

The spreadsheet stared back at her rows of figures that refused to cooperate, because literally her rent is overdue, a lawyer's invoice she didn't remember agreeing to, her mother's medical bills. Every number felt heavier than the last, like proof that no matter how hard she tried, the ground beneath her feet kept giving way.

The phone buzzed again, and Ariella exhaled slowly.

If she ignored it, maybe it would go away. Most things did eventually, or they came back louder.

The third buzz decided it.

She picked up the phone. "Hello?"

There was silence, not the awkward kind, not static, but the kind that felt intentional.

Her spine stiffened.

"Ms. Quinn," a man's voice said at last. Calm, professional, and carefully neutral. "Good evening."

"Who is this?" Ariella asked.

"A representative from Blackwood Group."

The room seemed to shrink.

"No," she said immediately. "You have the wrong number."

"I don't," the man replied. "And this call is not a mistake."

Her fingers tightened around the phone. "I don't do business with Blackwood."

"We're aware of your position." That made her pause.

"This isn't a business call," the voice continued smoothly. "It concerns your family."

Her heartbeat skipped.

"My family is none of your concern," Ariella said, though her voice betrayed her.

There was a faint pause, like the man on the other end was deciding how much to say.

"Your mother's name is Eleanor Quinn," he said. "And her accounts were flagged this afternoon."

Ariella stood up so fast the chair scraped loudly against the floor.

"What did you say?"

"You'll get the full explanation tomorrow," the man replied. "Ten a.m. Blackwood Tower."

"I'm not coming."

"You may want to reconsider."

"I said no."

Another pause, this one heavier.

"If you don't show up," the voice said evenly, "the situation becomes... difficult."

Her throat went dry. "Are you threatening me?"

"No, Ms. Quinn. I'm informing you."

The line went dead, and Ariella stared at her phone long after the screen went dark.

Of all the names in the world, Blackwood!

She hadn't spoken that name aloud in years, she hadn't needed to. It existed like a scar present even when ignored. The company that had swallowed smaller firms whole. The name that surfaced in every article that mentioned the collapse of her father's business. The name whispered whenever someone decided her family wasn't worth trusting anymore.

She didn't sleep that night.

Blackwood Tower looked exactly like it did on television.

Cold glass, sharp angles, just a building that didn't just rise, it loomed. Ariella stood across the street for a long moment, staring up at it, wondering how something so polished could feel so hostile.

Then she crossed the road. Inside,