After My Husband Served Me Divorce Papers on Our Anniversary

The phone vibrated against my desk, its screen illuminating with a name I didn't recognize: Christian Graham.

"Ms. Griffin," Marcus said through the intercom, "Mr. Graham is quite insistent about speaking with you directly. He claims it's regarding a matter of mutual interest."

I tapped my pen against the mahogany desk, considering. Christian Graham—the name stirred something in my memory. One of Seattle's most enigmatic investors, known for his reclusive nature and brilliant strategic mind.

"Put him through," I decided.

The voice that came through the speaker was deep, controlled, with an undercurrent of authority that commanded attention without demanding it.

"Ms. Griffin," he began, "I believe we have much to discuss that cannot be handled through standard corporate channels."

"Mr. Graham," I replied coolly, "I'm a busy woman. State your purpose."

"I know who you really are," he said simply.

My blood froze. "Excuse me?"

"The genius behind Stellar Tech. The woman who built an empire while hiding in plain sight." His voice held no mockery, only respect. "I've been watching you for years, Emily."

I stood slowly, moving to the window that overlooked Seattle's skyline. "Why?"

"Because twenty years ago, the Peterson family destroyed mine with the same kind of corporate fraud they tried to bury your father for."

---

The bar was exactly what I expected—dimly lit, smelling of stale beer and desperation. Julian sat hunched over his third whiskey, his once-immaculate suit now wrinkled and stained. Russell Knight slid into the booth across from him, his face flushed with anger or alcohol—possibly both.

"This is insane," Russell hissed, glancing nervously around the dive bar. "We could both go to federal prison for this."

Julian's laugh was bitter, hollow. "Prison? You think I care anymore? That bitch took everything from me."

I watched through the monitor in my private security office, feeling nothing as I observed the man I'd once loved reduced to this pathetic shell. The hidden cameras captured every word, every gesture.

"The AI source code," Julian continued, leaning forward. "That's our ticket out of this mess. Sell it to Nexus Tech, and we walk away with enough money to start over."

Russell shook his head, but I could see the greed warring with his fear. "The security protocols—"

"Are designed by people who work for me," Julian snapped. "Or who used to work for me. Either way, I know every backdoor, every weakness."

He pulled out a flash drive, tossing it onto the sticky table between them. "Everything we need is on this. We move tomorrow night."

---

"These are brilliant," Christian murmured, studying the surveillance footage on my monitor. His proximity was distracting—a clean scent of sandalwood and something uniquely him filled the space between us.

"Thank you," I replied, trying to focus on the screen rather than the warmth radiating from his presence. "But brilliant isn't enough. We need perfect."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving the footage of Julian and Russell planning their theft. "You're right. We need to give them exactly what they want—a chance to hang themselves."

I glanced at him, surprised by the steel in his voice. There was no hesitation in him, no moral quandary about setting this trap.

"My tech infrastructure is at your disposal," he offered, pulling out his tablet. "I have servers that can create a convincing decoy—real enough to fool them, but completely under our control."

As he spoke, his fingers moved across the screen with practiced precision, bringing up blueprints of a secure server architecture I recognized as far more advanced than anything Stellar Tech currently used.

"How did you develop this?" I asked, impressed despite myself.

His smile was slight, knowing. "Let's just say I've been preparing for this moment longer than you might think."

We worked through the night, our heads bent together over laptops and tablets, crafting the perfect trap. The air between us charged with mutual respect and something else—something I hadn't allowed myself to feel in years.

"Done," Christian finally announced as dawn broke over Seattle's skyline. "The decoy server is live. Julian will find exactly what he's looking for."

I stretched, suddenly aware of how close we'd been working. His arm had brushed mine countless times throughout the night, and somehow, I hadn't minded.

"Now we wait," I said softly.

Christian's eyes met mine, holding my gaze longer than necessary. "Yes," he agreed. "But I doubt Julian will make us wait long."

Something in his tone made my pulse quicken. This wasn't just about business anymore—not for either of us.