Chapter 1: The Midnight Directive
Chapter 1: The Midnight Directive
I didn’t take Sophie back to the modest two-bedroom rental Claire and I shared. Instead, I drove downtown, pulling into the private underground garage of the Whitaker Tower.
Sophie looked up, shivering inside my heavy coat. "Dad? Where are we?"
"We're going to our real home, sweetie," I said softly, guiding her to the private elevator.
I took her up to the penthouse—a sprawling, glass-walled suite overlooking the city that I had kept perfectly maintained but entirely secret for eight years. I drew her a hot bath, ordered her favorite takeout, and waited until she was finally asleep in a king-sized bed wrapped in down blankets.
Once she was safe, I walked into my home office and picked up the phone. I called Marcus, my Chief Operating Officer and lead corporate attorney. It was 1:00 a.m. on Christmas morning.
"Daniel?" Marcus answered, his voice thick with sleep. "Is everything alright?"
"No," I replied, my voice dead calm. "It’s time to burn it down. I want all Collins family accounts frozen. I want Martin’s corporate access revoked. Cancel the supply contracts for Claire’s brothers. And Marcus?"
"Yes, boss?"
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"File the divorce papers Claire handed me tonight. But enforce the ironclad prenuptial agreement she insisted on signing eight years ago—the one meant to protect her assets from the 'broke handyman.'"
I heard Marcus sigh, but there was a sharp edge of anticipation in his voice. "Consider it done. Merry Christmas, Daniel."
