Oh, by the way, the one who tipped off the cops was Chloe. to get a reduced sentence. Jason paced the living room like a caged beast. Suddenly, he spun around and pointed a finger at me. Valerie, I'm going to report you. I'll expose all your financial schemes.

I'll have the Swiss government confiscate your entire fortune. I sighed and pulled another stack of documents from the safe. This is the divorce agreement you signed yourself. It specifies that I voluntarily renounce all marital assets. This is the notarized certificate of asset division.

And this is the legal investment certificate from Swiss immigration. I showed him the documents one by one. Do you want to call the police? I can call them for you. Jason's face went from gray to red and back to white.

Suddenly, he lunged at me. You evil woman. I'll kill you. I was already prepared. I pressed the panic button hidden within arms reach.

Instantly, two security guards burst in and restrained Jason, who thrashed around like a madman on the floor. "Take this man to the airport," I told the guards. "And make sure he goes through security and leaves the country." "Valerie, you're going to rot in hell!" Jason screamed as they dragged him away. "I'll be back, I swear!"

Just wait. Standing at the door, I smiled as I watched them force him into the security vehicle. Say hi to Chloe for me. I closed the door, let out a long sigh, and refilled my wine glass. This confrontation had ended much more easily than expected.

Every one of Jason's reactions, every word he said had been almost exactly as I had predicted. outside the sunset painted the lake gold. I unlocked my phone and saw a new message from Sarah. Michael sentenced to 3 years in prison. Chloe deported to her home country for fraud. Jason is MIA.

Rumor has it he fled to Europe. Be careful. I replied, I just saw him. I just shipped him off to the airport. I added a smiley face emoji.

I put my phone down and went back to my studio to continue working on my sketches. My personal brand, Phoenix Rising, was about to launch its first collection. The theme was resurrection. The experiences that had once caused me so much pain were now my source of inspiration. At 8:00 p.m., the doorbell rang again.

On the video intercom screen, a courier was holding an elegant gift box. I opened it. Inside was a brooch. A phoenix with its wings spread made of rubies and gold. It was the first piece I had designed.

An attached card read, "Celebrating a new birth. With love, Monica." I pinned the brooch to my lapel and twirled in front of the mirror. The phoenix sparkled under the light as if it were truly about to rise from the flames.

Two years later, in the garden of my alpine villa, my first solo exhibition, Resurrection, was underway. 30 artworks were harmoniously arranged on the lawn. Each piece was like a window into my emotional evolution over the last two years. Miss Vance, where did you draw the inspiration for that piece? Metamorphosis? an art critic asked, pointing to the standout piece.

In the center of the canvas, a translucent butterfly was emerging from a broken chrysalis. Its wings, instead of standard patterns, were covered in countless tiny numbers and letters. Looking closely, one could see they were fragments of a divorce agreement and legal clauses. Metamorphosis involves pain, I said, smiling. But after the pain comes the freedom to fly.

The base of this painting is made from the paper pulp of my own shredded divorce agreement. The amazed critic stepped closer to the work. What creativity sublimating a legal document into art? This form of expression is a revolutionary interpretation of feminist art. I bowed my head in gratitude while my gaze swept over the many guests in the garden.

In two years, I had gone from being an abandoned wife to an acclaimed emerging artist. The creations of my brand, Phoenix Rising, had been acquired by several museums, and today's exhibition had attracted many of the top figures in the European art world. Valerie Monica pushed her way through the crowd. She held a glass of champagne. Sold out.

Congratulations. Even the piece, Ashes valued at a million franks, has been reserved by a gallery in Luxembourg. I accepted the champagne flute and clinked glasses with her. To new beginnings. To new beginnings, Monica said, winking at me.

Oh, by the way, your dad just called me. He says he has important news and wants you to call him. I retreated to a quiet terrace and dialed my father's number. He answered almost instantly. Valerie, is the exhibition going well?

My father's voice sounded tired but warm. A total success. All the pieces sold. I looked at the eternal snows in the distance. Do you have news?

My father was silent for a few seconds. The Gallagher family is finished. I subconsciously played with the rim of my glass. Tell me, Anthony Gallagher was sentenced to 12 years in federal prison. Corporate embezzlement, bribery, tax evasion, the works.

Phyllis had a stroke and is living in a nursing home facility. She can barely move. And Jason, my father paused. He was sentenced to 8 years for fraud and illegal fundraising. I closed my eyes, letting the information settle.

Strangely, I didn't feel the satisfaction I had expected, only a faint sensation akin to pity. and the company. The bankruptcy liquidation is over. All the assets were auctioned off to pay the debts. The Brooklyn project was canceled and the city took back the zoning rights. My father sighed.

Valerie, do you hate them? I thought about it for a moment. No, I don't hate them anymore. Hating takes up too much energy. I'd rather use that energy to create beautiful things.