Read on to discover Chapter Two...

By noon the following day, the story had broken across the Seattle business community like a thunderclap.

VANCETECH CEO FREES COMPANY FROM FAMILY FRAUD; MERCER ESTATE SEIZED.

While the news anchors speculated on the sudden downfall of Medina’s most prominent socialite couple, I was transferred by private medical transport from the hospital to the St. Jude Recovery Center—a state-of-the-art private medical estate nestled in the quiet pine forests of Mercer Island.

Daniel had arranged for a private family suite on the ground floor. It had a fully equipped physical therapy room, a medical suite for my round-the-clock nursing care, and an adjoining nursery that opened directly onto a secure, sunny courtyard.

Leo and Maya were thriving. Freed from the chaotic environment of my parents' constant demands, my twins settled into a peaceful routine. Every morning, Nurse Clara—whom I had hired as a full-time private pediatric nurse—would bring them into my room, placing them gently on the large plush sofa beside my specialized bed so I could feed them and read them stories.

Physical therapy was an agonizing hell.

Every time the therapist tried to help me shift my weight onto my left hip, screams tore from my throat. But every time I felt like giving up, every time the pain made me want to collapse back into the dark, I looked at the framed photograph of David sitting on my nightstand, and then at my children playing on the rug.

"Slowly, Elena," my therapist, Marcus, urged as I gripped the parallel bars, my knuckles white, sweat dripping from my hair onto the floor. "One inch at a time. Put two percent of your weight on the left foot."

I set my foot down. The nerve pain burned like liquid fire up my spine. I gritted my teeth so hard my jaw rusted with the taste of blood, but I did not lift my foot. I took one tiny step forward. Then another.

"That's it," Marcus cheered softly. "That's three steps."

While I fought to regain the use of my legs, Daniel Cho was dismantling the Mercer family brick by brick.

On Friday morning, Daniel walked into my suite carrying a stack of legal updates.

"Richard and Evelyn have officially moved out of the Medina estate," Daniel reported, setting a tablet on my lap. "Or rather, they were escorted out by King County Sheriff's deputies at 10:00 a.m. yesterday. They tried to pack three trucks worth of designer furniture and fine art, but the court injunction held. They left with two suitcases each."

"Where are they staying?" I asked, watching Leo try to stack three plastic blocks on the floor.

"A cheap extended-stay motel near the airport," Daniel smiled thin-lipped. "And Seraphina’s boutique in downtown Bellevue was locked by the landlord this morning for six months of unpaid back rent. Without your monthly 'consulting fees' covering her overhead, she’s completely insolvent."

My phone—now equipped with a new, unlisted number that only Daniel, Clara, and the facility staff possessed—chimed on the desk.

Daniel looked at the screen. "It's a formal letter from Richard's criminal defense attorney. They are begging for a settlement conference, Elena. They know the state prosecutor is preparing a formal indictment for trust fund embezzlement."

I looked out the window at the rain falling softly on the green pine trees.

"Tell them I will agree to a meeting," I said coldly. "On one condition."