I faked paralysis after my accident to test everyone. My fiancée mocked me publicly—until the maid spoke up.

The letter was postmarked from the prison.

I held it in my hand, staring at the handwriting, sharp and angry, just like her. Clara was in the kitchen, making lunch for the kids, and I didn’t want to upset her. I took the letter out to the garden, sitting on the bench by the roses, and opened it.

It was short, just a few lines, written in red ink.

You think you won? You think you’re happy with your little maid and your brats? I’m getting out. The appeals court granted me a new trial. New evidence. I’ll be free in six months. And when I get out, I’m going to take everything from you. Your wife. Your kids. Your company. Everything. You’ll pay for what you did to me.

I crumpled the letter in my hand, my jaw tight.

It couldn’t be. The evidence against her had been ironclad. She’d been caught red-handed, shooting me at the airport. There was no way she was getting a new trial.

I called James.

“Is it true?” I asked, when he picked up. “Is Vanessa getting a new trial?”

James was quiet for a second. “I was going to call you today. Yes. Her lawyer found a loophole. The judge who sentenced her had a conflict of interest—his wife owned stock in your company. The appeals court threw out the conviction. She’s getting a new trial. She could be out on bail next week.”

My blood ran cold.

“Bail?” I said. “She shot me. She tried to kill me. They can’t let her out on bail.”

“They can,” James said. “Her new lawyer is good. One of the best in the country. He’s arguing she was coerced by Liam, that she was a victim. The judge is leaning toward granting bail. House arrest, but still. She’ll be in the city. Close to you.”

I looked through the kitchen window, where Clara was laughing as Lily poured too much milk into her cereal. Jamie was sitting in his high chair, throwing peas at the dog.

“Fight it,” I said. “Do everything you can. She can’t get out. She’ll hurt us. I know she will.”

“I’m on it,” James said. “I’ve got the best team working on it. We’ll do everything we can. But Ethan… be prepared. She might get out. We need to be ready.”

I hung up, crumpling the letter even tighter.

I walked back into the house, forcing a smile on my face. Clara looked up, her smile fading when she saw my face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

I handed her the letter. She read it, her face going white.

“She’s getting out?” she said.

“Maybe,” I said. “James is fighting it. But we have to be ready. I’m calling Marcus. We’re increasing security. Guards at the house, at the kids’ school, everywhere we go. No one gets in or out without being checked. She’s not going to hurt our family. I won’t let her.”

Clara nodded, but her hands were shaking. She looked at the kids, playing happily, unaware of the danger coming for them.

“We’ll be okay,” she said, more to herself than to me. “We’ve been through worse. We’ll get through this.”

I held her close, kissing the top of her head.

“We will,” I said. “I promise.”