Marcus Thorne had planned to walk away from his career quietly, but at 11:52 p.m., standing in the corner office of the most intimidating woman in downtown Seattle, he uttered the one phrase no subordinate ever says to their boss.

Life settled into a strange, beautiful rhythm. Marcus worked hard, Sophie thrived at her new school, and Evelyn—to Marcus’s surprise—became a frequent fixture in their lives. She would occasionally drop by the penthouse with "documents to sign," which inevitably turned into her staying for dinner, helping Sophie with math homework, or quietly watching Marcus cook.

The Ice Monarch was thawing, and Marcus found himself captivated by the brilliant, guarded woman beneath the armor.

Then, on a rainy Thursday evening, the intercom in the penthouse buzzed.

Marcus pressed the button. "Yes?"

"Mr. Thorne, there is a woman down here to see you," the doorman said. "She says she’s your ex-wife."

Marcus’s blood ran cold. Julia.

She hadn't called or visited in three years. She had walked out when Marcus refused to take a high-paying, soul-crushing job in Dubai, claiming she "wasn't meant for a mediocre life."

"Send her up," Marcus said, his voice tight.

Five minutes later, the elevator doors opened directly into the foyer. Julia stepped out, shaking her wet umbrella. She looked exactly the same—polished, beautiful, and deeply selfish. She stopped, her jaw dropping as she took in the sweeping views, the marble, the sheer wealth of the apartment.

"Well," Julia said, her eyes gleaming with sudden interest. "It looks like you finally stopped being mediocre, Marcus."

"What do you want, Julia?" Marcus asked, stepping between her and the hallway where Sophie was playing.

"I heard through the grapevine you got a massive promotion. Zenith Tower? Very impressive," she smiled, stepping closer. "I've been doing some thinking, Marcus. A little girl needs her mother. Especially now that her father can actually afford to give us the life we deserve. I want to try again. And if you say no, well… Washington is a mother-friendly state. I’m sure a judge would love to hear about how you’ve been working eighty-hour weeks and neglecting her."

Marcus felt the floor drop out from under him. She wasn't here for love; she was here for the money she assumed he had. And she was threatening the one thing he couldn't lose.

Before he could respond, the front door clicked open. Evelyn walked in, using her master key, holding a portfolio.