"You killed him," Ethan snapped as he threw the divorce paper at her feet.
"Get out of my house," Linnea said, stepping sideways so the paper landed on marble between them.
Guadalupe clapped once, slow and sharp. "Bravo, Ethan. Public and final."
Ethan's fingers trembled when he reached for the glass of water. He set it down without drinking. "You stopped answering calls," he said. "You left the company in ruins. The board needed someone honest."
"The board lied," Linnea said. "You lied."
"You lied about your pregnancy," Guadalupe cut in. "You lied about the charity funds. You staged a death to dodge everything."
Linnea looked at Guadalupe the way a judge looks at a liar caught on tape. "You will stop speaking for me," she said. "You will stop smiling at cameras when my name is being murdered."
Guadalupe's smile didn't falter. "My followers love me. My donations doubled after your trial."
"You used my child's name to raise money," Linnea said. "You held the funeral that ruined me and sold stories. Tell me, Guadalupe, did you look at the coffin closely? Did you ask who signed the documents?"
Guadalupe's jaw tightened. "You're hysterical."
"Then listen clearly." Linnea walked forward, each step measured. "You hurt my son. You benefited from that hurt. If anything happened to him, I'll make sure every penny you earned turns to ash and every platform you stand on collapses."
Everyone in the foyer went quiet. The only
