I never told my ex-husband or his wealthy family that I was the secret owner of the multi-billion dollar company where they all worked. To them, I was just the "poor, pregnant burden" they tolerated out of obligation.

Four months later.

The hospital suite looked more like a five-star hotel room than a medical facility.

The room was filled with hundreds of gorgeous, fragrant white roses.

I lay in the hospital bed, exhausted, sweating, but completely overwhelmed with joy.

In my arms, wrapped in a soft pink blanket, was my beautiful newborn daughter, Aurora.

She had my eyes, and absolutely nothing of her father.

Arthur walked into the room, holding a giant teddy bear that looked almost as big as he was.

"Congratulations, Cassidy," Arthur beamed, setting the bear down in the corner. "She is absolutely perfect."

"Thank you, Arthur," I whispered, kissing my baby's soft forehead.

"I have some paperwork for you to sign, whenever you're ready," he said, pulling out a small folder.

"What is it?" I asked.

"The final legal name change," Arthur replied. "The judge fast-tracked it. She will officially carry your maiden name. There is no Morrison on this birth certificate."

I felt a massive weight lift off my chest.

My daughter would never be tied to that toxic family.

"And Brendan?" I asked, not really caring, but needing closure.

"He took a plea deal yesterday," Arthur said, his tone turning serious and professional. "Ten years in federal prison for the embezzlement and wire fraud."

I nodded slowly. "And his mother?"

"Diane was evicted from the motel," Arthur chuckled softly. "Last I heard, she was working the night shift at a 24-hour laundromat to pay off her mounting legal debts."

It was poetic justice.