Introduction

My husband, Mark Sterling, returned from a tech retreat a changed man.

He brought with him Tiffany Royale, a "disruptor" influencer whose smile was too bright, her boasts too loud.

In the tranquil living room I designed, he coldly announced his desire for a divorce.

"I'm marrying Tiffany," he declared, praising her "Gen Z insights" as the future of his company, while Tiffany preened smugly.

She swiftly joined Sterling Innovations, immediately dismissing me and my established network as "outdated legacy thinkers."

I watched calmly as her disastrous "modern strategies" alienated key partners and threatened the company's very foundations, yet Mark remained utterly blind.

When her incompetence led my powerful network of women – titans of finance and law – to withdraw their support en masse, Mark screamed, blaming me.

In a fit of rage, he banished me, his "old and bitter" wife, to our sprawling Hamptons estate, believing it to be my silent exile.

He had no idea that the "Cold Palace" wasn't a prison; it was my perfectly appointed command center.

And with my formidable "Sorority Sisters" by my side, we were just getting started.

The man who thought he was a genius was about to learn who had truly paved his path to power, and who would now dismantle it, piece by piece.