Doyle swallowed hard, tearing his eyes away from Evelina. He quickly set a thick stack of legal documents on the mahogany desk.
The lead lawyer cleared his throat and began to drone on about asset isolation, non-disclosure clauses, and infidelity penalties.
Evelina tuned him out. She did not care about Sterling's billions. She flipped the heavy pages straight to the back.
She picked up the custom Montblanc pen lying on the desk. Without a second of hesitation, she signed 'Evelina Barrett' on the dotted line.
Sterling watched the sharp, aggressive strokes of her signature. He took the pen from her hand, his fingers brushing hers. His skin was ice cold. He signed his name next to hers.
"I will have the VIP liaison at City Hall process the marriage certificate within the hour," Doyle said, stamping the documents with the corporate seal.
It was done. Legally, Evelina was now Mrs. Montgomery.
Sterling immediately stood up. He buttoned his suit jacket, his face a mask of absolute indifference.
"I have a cross-border conference call," Sterling said, not looking at her. "Find your own way out."
He walked past her, taking Doyle and the lawyers with him. The heavy oak doors slammed shut.
Evelina stood alone in the freezing office. She let out a soft, mocking laugh. She folded her copy of the marriage certificate and shoved it into her backpack.
She walked out of the building. The crisp autumn wind of Manhattan hit her face. She pulled out her phone and opened her banking app. Her Barrett accounts were still frozen. A new account, opened by Doyle, showed a deposit of five million dollars for 'living expenses'.
Her eyes burned with a dark, violent light.
Miles away, on the sprawling lawns of the Barrett estate in Long Island, the sun shone brightly through the glass walls of the conservatory.
Alden Barrett sat in a wicker chair, holding a crystal flute of champagne. He stared at an email on his tablet and let out a booming laugh.
Annabella Barrett stood nearby, using silver shears to trim a rare orchid. "What is the good news, darling?"
"The Ivy League expulsion is official," Alden declared, his chest puffing out. "Evelina is officially a dropout. She has nothing."
Aspen Barrett walked into the room. She wore a skin-tight, designer red dress. A vicious smile stretched across her face.
"That ugly freak," Aspen sneered. "Without the school halo, she will be begging on the streets by tomorrow."
"It is karma," Annabella said, her voice dripping with fake pity. "That is what happens when you shame the family with sex scandals."
"I am publishing the disownment notice in the Times tomorrow," Alden said coldly. "She will never touch a dime of that trust fund."
"We should celebrate," Aspen clapped her hands. "Let's turn tonight's charity gala into a real party. A toast to taking out the trash."
Annabella smiled and called for the butler to order more French champagne.
The three of them clinked their glasses together, completely oblivious to the nightmare speeding toward them.
Deep underground, riding the rattling subway back to the city, Evelina stared at her phone screen. She had hacked into the Barrett estate's internal security cameras. The audio of their laughter played clearly through her earbuds.
Evelina's lips curled into a bloodthirsty smile.
She opened a secure browser and typed in an encrypted dark web URL. The screen turned black with green text.
She used Sterling's money to place an emergency, expedited order through a high-tier dark web syndicate she had cultivated for years. She transmitted the exact coordinates and timing to a ghost crew already on standby.
Three solid wood, pure black coffins. Highest grade. Delivery required at the Barrett estate lawn at exactly 6:00 PM tonight.
She hit confirm. The screen flashed 'Order Accepted'. Evelina stared at the words, her heart beating with a slow, heavy rhythm of pure hatred.