The Unwanted Ex-Wife Is A Genius Hacker

Alyse pushed open the heavy glass doors of Le Bernardin.

The biting cold wind of the Manhattan winter was instantly shut out, replaced by the warm, expensive scent of truffles and aged wine.

Four-year-old Nora tugged at the hem of Alyse's trench coat. The little girl looked around with wide eyes, her golden curls catching the light from the massive crystal chandeliers above.

"Shh," Alyse whispered, her tone gentle but firm.

Nora nodded obediently, her small hand gripping the fabric tighter.

The maitre d' stepped forward, his eyes scanning Alyse's simple coat. He opened his mouth, clearly preparing a polite refusal for walking in without a reservation.

Alyse didn't wait for him to speak. She reached into her pocket and slid a solid black private card across the polished reception desk.

The maitre d's expression shifted instantly. The polite dismissal vanished, replaced by a deep, practiced bow. He gestured toward the dining room with absolute reverence.

They were led to a secluded semi-private booth, shielded from the main dining area by frosted glass partitions.

Across the room, sitting in a plush leather booth, Zane Coulter aimlessly stirred his martini. His eyes drifted over the crowded room, bored by the usual Wall Street crowd.

Then, a familiar profile caught his attention.

Zane's hand jerked. The martini sloshed over the rim, the cold liquid spilling onto his custom-tailored suit.

He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward. The woman walking toward the back booth was wearing a simple coat, her aura freezing cold. It was Alyse Ellis. The same Alyse who had vanished five years ago.

His heart slammed against his ribs. Zane pulled his phone from his pocket, his hands shaking. He aimed the camera toward the semi-private booth and rapidly tapped the shutter button.

He forgot to turn off the flash.

A faint white light pulsed through the room.

Alyse stopped walking. Her head snapped toward the source of the light, her eyes narrowing into sharp slits.

Zane threw himself backward, pressing his spine hard against the leather sofa. His breath hitched in his throat. He waited a full ten seconds before exhaling, realizing she hadn't spotted him.

Alyse frowned. She scanned the dining room, finding nothing but wealthy patrons eating their seafood. Her face remained expressionless as she stepped into the blind spot of the booth, pulling Nora out of sight.

Zane opened the photo gallery on his phone and zoomed in.

His stomach dropped.

It wasn't just Alyse. Standing right beside her, holding her coat, was a little girl. She looked about four or five years old.

His fingers trembled as he selected Godfrey's contact. He attached the photo and typed out a message.

You are never going to believe who I just saw in New York.

He hit send.

High above Wall Street, inside the penthouse office of the Hammond Building, Godfrey stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city lights reflected in his cold, empty eyes.

His phone buzzed against the mahogany desk, shattering the dead silence of the