Too Late, Mr. Johnston: She Is Gone

The next morning, Kara forced herself to sit up. Her body screamed in protest, every muscle aching as if she had run a marathon, but her mind was clear. Coldly, brutally clear. Julian helped her into a wheelchair. He wanted her to stay, but she refused. Staying meant waiting for Davin to pull the plug on her grandfather's care. She opened her old laptop on the tray table. Her fingers flew across the keys, bypassing the hospital's firewall to access a secure Swiss server. She needed liquidity. A red box popped up on the screen: ACCOUNT FROZEN. AUTHORIZATION REVOKED. Kara slammed the laptop shut. Davin. He was thorough. He had locked down every joint asset, every allowance account. She had to sever the tie. She picked up her phone and dialed a number she had memorized years ago. She used a voice modulator app. "I need a draft drawn up immediately," she said into the receiver. "Standard divorce filing. Irreconcilable differences." Two hours later, Kara walked into the study at Johnston Manor. She was wearing a thick sweater to hide how much weight she had lost, but she still looked like a ghost haunting her own house. Davin was behind his massive oak desk, signing documents. He didn't look up when she entered. "Back so soon?" he asked. "Run out of money for the hotel room?" Kara walked to the desk and slapped a manila folder onto the wood. "Sign it," she said. Davin paused. He put his pen down and looked at the folder. He flipped it open. Petition for Dissolution of Marriage. He laughed. It was a dry, humorless sound. "You want a divorce?" he asked, standing up. He walked around the desk, closing the distance between them. He towered over her, radiating power and expensive cologne. "I want my mother's dowry back," Kara said, staring at his tie knot because she couldn't bear to look in his eyes. "The Higgins shares. That's all I want." Davin grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up. His fingers dug into her jaw. "You think you can just walk away? You begged to marry me, remember? You and your criminal father." "I'm begging you to let me go," Kara said. Davin's eyes darkened. He released her chin with a shove. He walked back to a filing cabinet and pulled out a thick document. He threw it on the desk next to her divorce papers. "Read the post-nuptial agreement, Kara. Specifically, the fidelity and heir clauses." He leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. "You want out? Fine. Pay the fifty million dollar breach of contract fee. Or..." He looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her stomach. "Give me an heir. You owe me a son to replace the reputation your mother destroyed." Kara felt bile rise in her throat. The cruelty was breathtaking. "You're insane," she whispered. "I just lost a baby yesterday." Davin waved his hand dismissively. "You got rid of a problem. Don't pretend it was anything else." Kara stepped back. She realized then that there was no negotiating with him. He didn't see her as a human. He saw her as an asset that was underperforming. She opened her mouth to threaten him. To tell him she knew about the tax evasion scheme in his Cayman subsidiaries. She could burn his company to the ground with three keystrokes. But she stopped. Any move she made as The Ghost would be traced back to the manor's network. Davin's IT team was military-grade; they'd be on her in seconds. It would expose everything and put her grandfather in even more danger. A knock at the door interrupted her. Charles, Davin's assistant, poked his head in. He looked uncomfortable. "Sir, the nursing home is on line one. They're asking about the payment for Arthur Higgins." Davin didn't break eye contact with Kara. "Tell them to stop all services," he said calmly. "Until my wife learns how to sign the correct papers." Kara felt the blood drain from her face. Her leverage was gone. If she fought him, Arthur would die. She looked at the divorce papers, then at Davin. Her shoulders slumped. "You win," she whispered. Davin smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "I always do. Now get out of my sight."