The morning after I uncovered my husband’s affair, I packed every suit, watch, and pair of shoes he owned into 2 suitcases and wheeled them into his office during the Monday staff meeting. “You wanted him? Take him,” I told his young intern. The room fell silent… until she pressed a thick envelope into my hands and said, “He never told you who’s really been paying for all of this.”

He was stripped of his bespoke tailored suits, forced into a stiff, generic orange jumpsuit. He was stripped of his arrogant delusions, and stripped of the millions he had arrogantly tried to steal. He was utterly, profoundly isolated in a concrete cell, a king without a kingdom.

Tessa fared no better. Attempting to claim ignorance of the embezzlement, she avoided prison time but was heavily fined for possession of stolen assets. She was permanently blacklisted by every financial and marketing firm in the state. The viral videos of the lobby incident ensured she was unemployable in the corporate world. Stripped of her luxury apartment, she was forced to move back into her parents’ basement in disgrace, working a minimum-wage retail job to pay her legal fees.

My reality, however, was anchored in absolute, intoxicating, blinding light.

I finalized the divorce with lethal, surgical efficiency. Because Adrian was convicted of financial felonies against our marital assets, the judge awarded me absolutely everything.