Lina stood in the doorway, her chest heaving, her eyes filled with a hatred so pure it felt like a physical heat.
"I'd rather sleep on the street than spend another night pretending this marriage isn't a corpse."
The words weren't just spoken; they were spat. She didn't look at the room. She didn't even look at me.
Before I could get a single word out—before I could tell her about the trillion-dollar contracts or the black Bugatti idling three stories below—she raised her hand and hurled a thick stack of papers at my chest.
The edges caught my skin, stinging, before the pages scattered across the floor. I didn't need to read the bold header to know what they were. The word DIVORCE glared up at me in cold, sterile ink.
"Lina, wait," I said, my voice remarkably calm despite the adrenaline surging through my veins. "What is this?"
"It's your freedom, Dray! And more importantly, it's mine!" she shrieked.
"Do you have any idea what you did today? Walking into my father's boardroom like a beggar just after I had been allowed my place again in the company?"
She rubbed her forehead, frustration clearly on her face.
"The workers were whispering. The partners were laughing. You disgraced me. You disgraced my name. My family was right from the very first day—you are a failed man. A bottomless pit of broken promises."
"Lina, listen to me for one second," I said, stepping toward her.
"The reason I went there was to give them a chance. Everything changed after I left. The software... Aegis... it's been recognized. Globally. I've been on the phone all afternoon."
She let out a harsh, jagged laugh.
"Recognized? By who? The local library? The community college?"
"By the Global Sovereign Fund, Lina. By Zurich. By London. I've been offered nine hundred trillion dollars in investment. I'm not the man you think I am anymore. As of an hour ago, I am the richest man in New York City. I've been named the Lord of the City, just not publicized yet."
Lina stared at me for a beat. The silence was heavy. Then, her face twisted into an expression of such profound disgust that I felt a part of my heart simply stop beating.
"You are pathetic," she whispered.
"You're actually lying to me. Right now, with divorce papers at your feet, you're trying to invent a fairy tale to make me stay? 'The Lord of the City'? Do you even hear yourself? That title hasn't been claimed in decades because it requires a level of wealth your brain can't even calculate."
"Look out the window, Lina," I pleaded, pointing toward the street.
"The cars... the security detail. They're here for me."
She didn't even turn her head.
"I saw the cars, Dray. Rico told me about them. There's a high-level diplomatic meeting a few blocks away. You're so delusional you think the world revolving around someone else is actually revolving around you. It's sad. It's genuinely, heartbreakingly sad."
"Lina, check my records on my phone. Check the financial news, it's not everywhere yet but my name will be publicized once I give consent."
"I'm not checking anything!" she screamed, stepping into the room and grabbing a suitcase from the top of the closet. She began throwing her clothes into it with violent, jerky movements.
"I'm done being the supportive wife to a man who lives in a fantasy world. And let me inform you, I've bought this house, Dray. My name is on the deed. I want you out. Now."
"You're kicking me out? Now? In the middle of this?"
"I want you gone by tonight," she said, her voice dropping to a terrifying, quiet hiss.
"Take your laptop, take your trillions, and take your lies. Go sleep in the gutter where you belong. Maybe your imaginary investors can find you a cardboard box with a view of the park."
I looked at the woman I had spent years trying to protect. I looked at the woman who had seen me bleed for her, work for her, and cry for her. She was so convinced of my failure that even when the truth was staring her in the face, she chose the lie that made me small.
"Lina," I said, my voice dropping an octave.
"If I walk out that door, I'm not coming back. And I'm not just walking out as your husband. I'm walking out as the man who was going to give you the world. Are you sure this is what you want?"
She stopped packing for a moment, her back to me. She turned slowly, her lip curling.
"The only thing I want from you, Dray Hudson, is a signed copy of those papers. I want my life back. I want to be with a man like Rico—someone who actually knows what a dollar is worth, not someone who hallucinates trillions because he's too lazy to get a job at the mall."
"Fine," I said.
I knelt down and picked up the papers. I didn't have a pen. I walked to my desk, picked up a pen I'd used to map out the Aegis kernel, but I didn't sign my name on the final page of the paper. I couldn't just give her up.
"Sign it now or I'll make your life hell!" She threatened.
I got on my feet, the papers still in my hands.
"Just give me a few more days, Lina. I promise, I'll sign them if you insist that I do that. But not just right now, please."
"Sign the damn papers now or I'll be your worst nightmare from this moment!"
I didn't have a choice now. She meant every word she spoke and I saw the finality in her eyes.
"Give me another few days and I'll come back here and sign the papers."
"Good. Now get out. I have a dinner reservation with people who actually matter. People who don't need to play pretend to feel powerful."
I grabbed my coat. I didn't take anything else. Not even my laptop. The code was in the cloud, and the cloud was mine.
"One last thing, Lina," I said as I reached the door. "When you realize the truth—and you will realize it very soon—don't hate me. I've done my best to make you see that I'm no longer the poor Dray you've always known."
"Go to hell, Dray," she snapped, turning back to her suitcase.
I walked out of the apartment and down the narrow, dimly lit stairs.
I pushed open the heavy front door of the building.
The street was bathed in the blue and red lights of a police escort. The matte-black Bugatti sat idling, its engine a low, predatory hum that vibrated in the pavement. Twelve men in dark suits immediately snapped to attention as I appeared.
"My Lord," Marcus said, stepping forward and opening the rear door of the Bugatti. "The penthouse is ready. The board is waiting for your first directive."
I looked up at the window of our apartment. I saw Lina's silhouette against the curtain. She was still packing, oblivious to the fact that the diplomatic meeting she dismissed was actually the arrival of the man she had just thrown away.
"Marcus," I said, sliding into the cool, leather interior of the car.
"Yes, sir?"
"The Darkson family," I said, watching the apartment window disappear as the car began to pull away.
"I want their credit lines reviewed. Every loan, every mortgage, every investment. If a single cent of my capital is supporting them, I want it withdrawn by sunrise."
"Consider it done, My Lord."