I didn’t cry. I didn’t beg. I opened the folder to the signature page. I read the clause he had highlighted: The parties agree to a total separation of assets based on legal title ownership. Each party retains sole ownership of assets registered in their name.

He thought this clause protected his wealth. He was an idiot.

I signed my name. Anna Vance. The ink was dark and permanent.

I closed the folder. I kept one copy and threw the other one back at him. It slid across the hospital sheets and fell to the floor near his polished shoes.

“Congratulations, Mark,” I said, lying back against the pillows. “You are a free man. You have your freedom. And you have Chloe.”

Mark picked up the papers, checking the signature with a greedy grin. “Finally. I should have done this years ago.”

“Get out,” I said, closing my eyes. “Take your mistress and get out of my room. The babies need to sleep.”

“Gladly,” Mark sneered. “Enjoy the diapers, Anna. I’m going to enjoy my life.”

He grabbed Chloe’s hand, and they strutted out of the room, leaving me in the silence.

I waited until their footsteps faded down the hallway. Then, I opened my eyes. I reached for the bedside phone. I didn’t call a lawyer. I called Security Command.

“This is Anna Vance,” I said into the receiver. “Code Black. Initiate the Leadership Transition Protocol. Effective immediately.”