My husband’s mistress pushed me down twenty-two marble stairs while I was eight months pregnant, then leaned over the railing and whispered, "Oops."

Preston was disheveled. His tie was loosened, his hair unkempt, and his face flushed red with rage. He had skipped his own post-arraignment processing to rush back to the house after receiving a mobile alert from the gate security system.

"You brought thugs into my home?" Preston snarled, stepping into the room. He ignored the security guard who immediately stepped between him and Meredith. "You think you can just march in here and steal my private records?!"

"Your records?" Meredith said, standing tall behind the desk, her hand clutching the red velvet folder tightly against her belly. "These are statements showing you transferred fourteen million dollars out of my father's trust into an offshore account for you and Sloan."

Preston’s face drained of color for a fraction of a second before twisting into a sneer.

"You don't understand how business works, Meredith," he said, taking another step forward. "You never did. You’re just a soft-hearted nurse who inherited money she didn't earn. I ran Ashford Investments! I built that firm! That money was mine by right!"

"That money was meant for our daughter," Meredith said, her voice dripping with utter disgust. "You laundered her future to buy Sloan designer clothes and penthouses."

"Sloan actually appreciates a man of status!" Preston shouted, his voice echoing off the wood-paneled walls. "She doesn't spend her days bleeding over sick kids and moralizing! You became boring, Meredith! You were weak!"

"Is that why you tried to kill me, Preston?" Meredith asked calmly. "Because I was 'boring'? Or because you realized that if I divorced you, the trust documents would expose that you were broke without my family’s money?"

Preston glared at her, his hands clenching into fists. "You have no proof of anything. That video will be thrown out of court. My legal team will destroy you, Meredith. You’ll be penniless, living in a studio apartment, and I’ll have sole custody of that child before her first birthday. I’ll make sure she never even knows your name."

The security guard drew his taser. "Back up, sir. Right now."

At that moment, Harper appeared at the library door, holding a box of Meredith’s personal files, with Eleanor standing beside her holding her phone.

"He’s right about one thing, Meredith," Eleanor said coolly, tapping her phone screen. "We don't need to argue with him here." She held up the device. "I’ve been recording this entire conversation on a secure line with the District Attorney's office. Mr. Ashford just admitted on tape to managing the accounts under discussion."

Preston froze. He looked from Eleanor to Meredith, realizing he had just walked directly into a legal vice.

"Get out of my house," Preston whispered, his voice trembling with suppressed violence.

"It’s not your house, Preston," Meredith said, stepping out from behind the desk and walking right past him, holding her head high. "The deed is in my trust's name. You have forty-eight hours to vacate the premises before the Sheriff’s department removes you for trespassing."