Are you coming into the shower with me?” The question left my mouth so casually that for one horrifying second, I didn’t understand what I had just said to the woman standing beside my bed. Then Laura Hayes turned toward me with a clean sheet in her hands, and the look on her face made me realize I had crossed a line I could never buy my way back across.

With Marcus Vance in federal custody, the dominoes fell rapidly. By evening, federal investigators had executed search warrants on the Evanston vacation property, freezing all accounts tied to Robert’s ex-wife and recovering the majority of the embezzled funds before they could cross international borders.

Back at the penthouse, the atmosphere was vastly different from the despair of the previous night. The city lights twinkled across the Chicago skyline, no longer mocking Robert, but shining like a city reclaimed.

Robert poured two glasses of scotch, walking over to where Laura stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out at the night.

"You did it," Robert said softly, handing her a glass. She looked at it, then took it with a quiet smile. "We did it. You provided the courage; I provided the blueprint."

"No, Laura," Robert corrected, his voice deep and earnest. "You gave me back my life. You uncovered the truth that corrupt systems tried to bury. My husband... your husband would be immensely proud of you."

Hearing those words, Laura’s breath hitched. A single tear slipped down her cheek, catching the penthouse lights. For fifteen months, she had carried the crushing weight of isolation, grief, and unavenged justice. Tonight, that weight had finally lifted.