Three days later, I wanted to see Lina again. One last time to be sure she really wanted me to sign the divorce papers .
Maybe there was a chance that she'd see that I truly loved her and always wanted what was best for her.
I still loved her.
"The smell of the subway follows you like a shadow, doesn't it, Dray? It's practically clinging to your skin."
Rayna Darkson stood at the top of the grand marble staircase of the Darkson mansion, looking down at me as if I were a cockroach that had somehow breached the perimeter of an operating room.
I stood in the foyer, my old sneakers looking grey against the polished white stone. I had intentionally left the Bugatti and the security detail three blocks away. I needed to see them—truly see them—one last time without the shield of my wealth. I needed to know if there was a single ounce of humanity left in the family I had tried to love.
"I'm here to see Lina, Rayna," I said, my voice flat. "She hasn't answered my calls in forty-eight hours. We're still married. I have a right to speak to my wife."
"Married?" Rayna laughed, the sound echoing off the vaulted ceilings.
"You're a ghost, Dray. A poverty-stricken stain on our family tree that we're finally bleaching out. Lina is upstairs regaining her dignity. You should leave before the gardener mistakes you for a weed and sprays you with pesticide."
"Move, Rayna," I said, my voice dropping. Something in my tone must have changed, because the smirk flickered on her face for a split second.
"Security!" she shrieked. "The beggar is getting aggressive!"
Two guards approached, but I didn't wait. I pushed past Rayna, my boots thudding against the expensive marble. I knew this house. I knew the study where the Darksons gathered to talk about people like me. I reached the double oak doors and threw them open.
The scene inside felt like a knife to the chest.
Lina was there. She wasn't crying. She wasn't mourning the end of our life. She was sitting on the velvet sofa, her head resting on Rico's shoulder, a glass of crystal-clear gin in her hand. Rico had his arm draped around her, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw.
"Lina?" I breathed.
She jumped slightly, her eyes widening as she saw me. But the shock was quickly replaced by a cold, hard irritation. She didn't move away from Rico. In fact, she leaned further into him.
"Dray? How did you get in here?" she demanded, standing up.
"I told you it was over. I gave you the papers. Why are you stalking me?"
"I wanted to talk to you," I said, stepping into the room. I ignored Rico's smug grin. "I thought... after everything we've been through, we deserved a conversation that wasn't shouted in a hallway. Lina, you're with him? Already?"
"Already?" Rico chimed in, standing up and smoothing his silk vest.
"Hudson, she's been with me in spirit for months. I'm the one who paid for her new car. I'm the one who's been funding her lifestyle while you were busy 'coding' in a dark room. You have a few hours to sign those papers and vanish, or I'll personally see to it that you're blacklisted from every job in this state."
"Lina, look at me," I pleaded, ignoring the man. "We're husband and wife. Leave him. Come outside with me. Let's talk—just the two of us. I can explain everything. I can show you the life I've secured for us. We can fix this."
Lina let out a long, weary sigh.
"Fix what, Dray? The fact that you have nothing? The fact that you're a nobody? Look at yourself. You look like a mess. Rico has more power in his pinky finger than you'll have in a lifetime. I have the money and the influence to make your life an absolute misery if you make this difficult. Sign the papers and go back to your gutter. It's where you belong."
"I'm not signing anything until you hear the truth," I said, my voice rising.
"I am the richest man in this city, Lina! The software—"
Rico stepped forward, his face twisting into a sneer.
"Enough of the fairy tales, you pathetic brat." He reached out, his hand slamming into my chest, trying to shove me toward the door.
"Get out of this house before I have the police haul you away for trespassing."
He pushed again, harder this time. But I didn't stumble. I caught his wrist in mid-air, my grip tightening until I heard the faint pop of his joints. The manual labor at the docks had given me a strength he couldn't imagine.
"Don't touch me again," I hissed, twisting his arm back.
"Dray! Let him go!" Lina screamed. "You're a monster! You're violent and crazy!"
Rico snarled, lunging at me with his other hand. We began to struggle, a messy, ugly fight in the middle of the pristine study. I had the upper hand, my anger fueling every movement, driving him back toward the wall.
"You think you're better than me because of your bank account?" I growled, pinning him against the wood paneling.
"You're a coward, Rico. You've always been a coward."
"Dray, stop it!" Arthur Darkson shouted, entering the room with Eleanor and Rayna trailing behind. "Release him this instant!"
Suddenly, the massive 100-inch television on the far wall, which had been flickering with a silent news feed, chimed with an emergency broadcast alert. The volume surged, filling the room with a sharp, digital tone.
"Wait," Rayna whispered, her eyes glued to the screen. "Look."
I let go of Rico. He slumped against the wall, gasping for air. Everyone in the room turned toward the display.
A news anchor stood in front of the New York Stock Exchange, her face grave.
"We have just received official confirmation on the identity of the individual who orchestrated the 900-trillion-dollar buyout of the global tech market this afternoon. The man now recognized as the Lord of New York and the wealthiest individual in American history is..."
A photo flashed onto the screen. It wasn't a professional headshot. It was a photo of me, taken just a few months ago, sitting in a coffee shop with my laptop.
The anchor's voice continued: "Dray Hudson. At twenty-six years old, Mr. Hudson has surpassed every billionaire on the planet. His software, Aegis, is now the backbone of the global financial system. The Governor has officially granted him the title of Lord of the City."
The silence that followed was so absolute it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.
Lina's glass slipped from her hand. It hit the marble floor and shattered, the gin soaking into the hem of her expensive dress. She stared at the screen, then at me, then back at the screen.
Arthur's mouth hung open, his face a mask of frozen horror. Eleanor was clutching her chest, her eyes wide with a realization that looked like physical pain.
I stood in the center of the room, my chest still heaving from the fight. I looked at Rico, who was staring at my picture on the TV as if he were looking at a god.
Then, I looked at Lina.
She took a trembling step toward me, her hands reaching out.
"Dray?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "Dray... is that... is that really you?"
I didn't answer.
Outside, the distant sound of a dozen sirens began to grow louder, approaching the mansion. The Lord's escort had arrived.
I looked at the TV, then back at the woman who had just told me I belonged in the gutter.
"You had forty-eight hours, Lina," I said, my voice as cold as the diamond she had mocked. "Now, you have nothing."