The Divorce Papers Gave Him The Shell And Gave Me The Future Chapter 13

The Divorce Papers Gave Him The Shell And Gave Me The Future Chapter 13

Three months later.

Skyline Intelligence officially signed a strategic partnership with General Motors.

Initial order: one hundred thousand units. Contract value: eighty-four million dollars.

The signing ceremony was held at The Roosevelt Center for Commerce. Bigger than any launch Apex had ever done.

I stood at the podium with both companies’ logos behind me.

In the audience sat hundreds of media outlets and dozens of investment funds.

Camera flashes popped like a strobe light.

“Ms. Chase, some people say Skyline’s success is only because of the attention from the lawsuit. Do you agree?”

I smiled. “If attention alone could make a product succeed, every Hollywood celebrity would be building self-driving cars.”

Laughter from the audience.

“What do you think about Apex Dynamics’ recent struggles?”

“I wish them the best in finding where they belong.”

That sentence. The same one Ethan had given to a reporter after our divorce. Now I was giving it back.

Outside the Roosevelt Center, Leo was waiting for me.

“Boss, NestWorks just messaged. Julian asked when you’re free to go over the investment agreement details.”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, and…” He scratched his head. “A reporter wants a solo interview. Her name is Quinn Avery. She used to be Apex’s PR consultant. She left. Now she does investigative reporting.”

I was quiet for a moment.

“Tell her to come to the office.”

Quinn arrived the next afternoon.

She was in her early thirties. Short hair. Black-rimmed glasses. Very sharp.

“Ms. Chase, thank you for seeing me.”

“What do you want to ask?”

“It’s not an interview.” She placed a manila envelope on the desk. “This is why I came.”

I opened the envelope.

Inside were documents.

Apex Dynamics’ internal financial statements, audit reports, board meeting minutes.

And a detailed breakdown of their equity structure.

“Ethan transferred fifteen percent of Apex’s shares to Grace Anson in the three years before the divorce.” Quinn said.

Meaning, even if I’d fought for my equity in the divorce, there would have been almost nothing left to divide.

My fingers tightened.

“He also used a series of related-party transactions to move the company’s cash into shell companies under his and Grace’s names. The structure is complicated. But I’ve been investigating for six months. I’ve largely confirmed it.”

I looked at the documents. Rows of numbers and legal clauses.

Six years of marriage.

He’d spent three years laying the groundwork, pushing me out piece by piece, moving assets step by step.

And I’d had no idea.

“Can this be used as evidence?” I asked.

“Yes.” Quinn said. “But it’s been years. A lot of these transactions are layered through multiple entities. Gathering the evidence will take time.”

“Why are you helping me?”

She was quiet for a moment. “Because I’m also a woman. And I’ve seen too many women like you get erased by men like him.”

She stood up. “Ms. Chase, I won’t take any more of your time.”

At the door, she turned back.

“One more thing. Ethan and Grace are selling their house. The

Westlake Estates property. It’s been listed for two weeks. They’re not doing well.”

That house. We bought it after the Series B.

The day we closed, Ethan carried me through the front door. Said it was the starting point of our dreams.

He said he was going to plant a magnolia tree in the yard so the whole property would smell like flowers in the spring.

He said he’d build a library on the second floor where I could write code in peace.

He never planted the tree. Never built the library.

He moved Grace in instead.

My phone rang. Unknown number.

“Hello, Skylar.”

Ethan.

His voice was hoarse. Like he’d been smoking too much.

“You won.”

I didn’t speak.

“You won the lawsuit. You won the product war. You won the media war.” He laughed. An ugly sound. “Are you happy now?”

“You called just to say that?”

“No. I called to ask you something.”

“What?”

“That email. You got it a long time ago, didn’t you? Why didn’t you use it in court? Why did you wait until after my press conference?”

I looked out the window. “Because in court, only a judge would see it. After your press conference, the whole world saw it.”

A long silence on the other end.

“Skylar. You’ve changed.”

“Yes. I’ve changed.”

“You weren’t like this before. You weren’t this cruel.”

“No. I wasn’t. But the old me died. You killed her. The person you’re talking to now? You made her.”

Another silence.

“Skylar. What if I told you I regret it? Would you believe me?”

“Yes.” I said. “But your regret is your problem. I don’t owe you forgiveness.”