The most powerful part of Mara’s revenge is that she never acts in haste. After Julian collapses beside the tilted champagne cart, she doesn’t stay to enjoy the moment.

The federal interrogation room was a drab, windowless box that smelled of stale coffee and industrial floor cleaner. Beatrice sat at the scarred aluminum table, her designer dress wrinkled, her perfect makeup smeared into gray shadows beneath her eyes. Across from her sat two FBI agents and an SEC regulator.

"We have the emails, Ms. Hayes," the lead agent, a weary-looking man named Torrance, said, sliding a thick manila folder across the table. "We have the offshore routing numbers. We have your signature on the PR campaigns that actively covered up the theft of Mara Lin's intellectual property. What we don't have is your confession. But frankly, we don't need it to put you away for fifteen years."

Beatrice stared at the folder, her hands trembling in her lap. "Julian made me do it. I was just following orders. He threatened to fire me if I didn't help him spin the narrative."

"That's a lie," a new voice said.

The door opened, and Mara stepped into the room, flanked by her own high-powered legal counsel. The agents didn't stop her; she was now their primary cooperating witness, the new CEO of the restructured tech giant, and the very reason they had this case.

Beatrice looked up, her face contorting in a mix of rage and terror. "You! You set us up!"

"I simply provided the evidence of your actions, Beatrice," Mara said smoothly, taking a seat at the edge of the table. "You weren't a victim. You were a willing participant. You bought that townhouse in the Hamptons with the bonus Julian gave you for destroying my reputation. You laughed about it in emails to your friends."

"I can cut a deal," Beatrice stammered, looking frantically between the agents. "I know where Julian hid the rest of the physical assets. The art, the jewelry."

"We already have it," Mara interjected smoothly. "I provided the bureau with a complete ledger of Julian's physical assets this morning. You have no leverage, Beatrice. You have nothing to trade."

Mara stood up, smoothing the front of her tailored blazer. "I just came to see it with my own eyes. The woman who wrote the press release calling me 'delusional and incompetent,' sitting in a federal holding cell."