An entitled woman dumped her iced latte all over my blueprints in first class, threatening to use her husband’s influence to ruin my life. I didn't scream or retaliate. I simply smirked and waited for the wheels to touch down, because I was holding a secret that would shatter her reality...

Rikers Island is not designed for women who wear Prada.

Eleanor Belmont sat on a stainless steel bench in a holding cell, shivering in an oversized orange jumpsuit. Her flawless blowout was a tangled mess. Her makeup was smeared down her cheeks in dark, raccoon-like streaks. She had been crying for hours, screaming at the guards that there had been a mistake, that she was wealthy, that she was untouchable.

When the heavy steel door buzzed open, she leaped up, rushing to the reinforced glass of the visitation booth.

Richard sat on the other side. He looked like he had aged twenty years. His suit was wrinkled, his tie loosened, his eyes sunken and dark.

"Richard!" Eleanor sobbed through the speaker system. "Oh my god, get me out of here! This place is a nightmare! Have you fired the police commissioner yet? Where is my lawyer?"

Richard stared at her. There was no love in his eyes. There was only a cold, dead emptiness.

"I don't have a lawyer for you, Eleanor," he said, his voice a raspy whisper.

She blinked, confused. "What do you mean? Call the corporate team! We have dozens of lawyers!"

"We have nothing," Richard said, a bitter, hysterical laugh bubbling up in his chest. "We don't have the corporate team. We don't have the company. We don't have the house."

Eleanor’s face contorted. "Richard, stop speaking in riddles! What is going on?"

"The man you assaulted today, Eleanor. The Black man you poured a drink on and called a thug," Richard said, his voice suddenly roaring through the speaker, making her flinch. "That was Marcus Thorne! The CEO of Apex Industries! The man who was flying here to save us from bankruptcy!"

Eleanor’s breath caught in her throat. The color completely drained from her face.

"He walked into the boardroom covered in your iced latte," Richard spat, venom dripping from every word. "He dropped the ruined contracts on the table. And then he took everything. He stripped me of my shares. He fired me. He instituted a hostile takeover. Our accounts are frozen, Eleanor. We are broke."

"No..." she whispered, stepping back from the glass. "No, that can't be true. He was just... he was just some guy in my seat..."

"He was the owner of your pathetic life!" Richard screamed, pounding his fist against the glass. "And you threw it all away because you couldn't keep your racist mouth shut! I'm filing for divorce, Eleanor. You're on your own."

Richard stood up, turning his back on her.