My father stared at the screen.

Then shook his head.

“That’s why I told you to change those PINs.”

He looked at me.

“This guy wasn’t heartbroken.”

“He was setting bait.”

The next morning, my ex-husband showed up at the headquarters of my interior design firm in downtown Chicago wearing sunglasses even though it was raining.

My receptionist, Linda, called me immediately.

“Mariana, Mauricio is downstairs. He says it’s an emergency.”

I looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office on the twenty-eighth floor.

“Do not let him upstairs,” I said. “Call security.”

Linda lowered her voice.

“He’s already yelling.”

Of course he was.

For years, Mauricio had treated every boundary like it was merely a suggestion. When we first met, he was charming, polished, and ambitious. I thought he admired my work ethic.

Eventually I realized he admired something else entirely.

My clients.

My connections.