Chapter 1

Catherine's POV

5:30 AM. Everyone else was home sleeping while I sat here dealing with Steven's corpse. The hospital morgue hallway was freezing and smelled like disinfectant.

I stared at the cremation form in my lap. The funeral director, Mr. Patterson, was giving me his professional sad face.

"Mrs. Ashworth, you want immediate cremation today?"

"Yes." I grabbed the pen. Just sign it and be done with this shit.

"There's extra charges for same-day service—"

"I don't care." I scrawled my signature across the bottom. Catherine Elizabeth Ashworth.

Mr. Patterson coughed. "I need the other papers too."

I dumped everything out of my purse. Marriage certificate. Death certificate. Steven's will. All the proof that I was his legal wife, not some random woman trying to burn her cheating husband.

"This all looks correct," he said, flipping through the documents. "But are you sure? Once we start—"

"Steven always said he didn't want to stick around after he died." The lie came out smooth. "He wanted to go fast. This is what he would have wanted."

The only thing Steven wanted was to steal my money and run off with his girlfriend. Too bad he died before he could finish the job.

Mr. Patterson nodded. "We'll start right away. Come back at 8 AM."

"I'll be here."

Three hours later I stood in the parking lot holding Steven's ashes. The black urn was heavier than I expected. My phone kept buzzing, Jerry and Margaret calling nonstop since 6 AM. I ignored every single one.

Car doors slammed behind me. Jerry's Mercedes screeched into the lot and three people jumped out. Margaret looked like hell, her hair was a mess and her makeup was everywhere. Jerry was red-faced and sweating.

And then there was Elena Rivera.

Even at 8 AM she looked perfect. No wonder Steven threw away eight years of marriage for her.

"Catherine!" Margaret ran toward me. "Where's Steven? Where's my son?"

I held up the urn. "Right here."

Her face went white. "What? What is that?"

"Steven's ashes. I had him cremated this morning."

Dead silence. Then Margaret's hand cracked across my face.

"You evil bitch! We didn't even get to say goodbye!"

My cheek burned but I didn't move. Instead I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. "I need to report an assault at Mass General Hospital. A woman just hit me."

"Catherine, hang up," Jerry said. His voice was shaking. "Let's talk."

"Nothing to talk about. I did what Steven's legal wife had the right to do." I kept the phone at my ear. "Yes, I'll wait for the officer."

Elena clicked over in her stupid high heels. "Legal wife? That's rich."

I looked her up and down. She was probably twenty-five, maybe younger. Smooth skin, perfect body. This is what my husband picked over me.

"I'm not hiding from anything. I'm Steven's wife. You're just the woman he was screwing on the side."

Elena's face turned red. "You don't know what Steven and I had. I was his real partner. His girlfriend. You were just—"

"Just what?" I stepped closer. "Just the woman who helped him build his company? Just the one who put up with his crap for eight years? Just his legal wife who got to decide what happened when he dropped dead?"

Jerry pushed between us. "Stop it. My son is dead and you're acting like children."

Your son was a thief, Jerry. But you'll find out soon enough.

A cop car pulled up with its lights flashing. Officer Martinez got out looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Someone called about an assault?"

"She hit me," I said, pointing at Margaret. "Multiple witnesses."

Margaret started crying again. "She cremated my son without telling us! She wouldn't let us see him!"

Martinez looked uncomfortable. "Ma'am, did you have authority to make that decision?"

I handed him my paperwork. "I'm his next of kin. Everything's legal."

Elena stepped up again. "Officer, there's things you should know about their marriage. Steven and I were going to—"

"Going to what?" I turned to face her. "Going to steal my family's money? Going to forge documents? Going to take 1.8 billion dollars that wasn't yours?"

Everyone went quiet. Margaret stopped crying. Even the cop looked surprised.

"What are you talking about?" Jerry's voice cracked.

I smiled. First time all day. "The 1.8 billion dollar trust fund? It's not happening. The money's frozen."

"You're lying," Elena said.

"Check your bank accounts. Check Steven's transfers from last month. Check the fake signatures on the trust papers." I stared at Jerry.

Jerry stumbled backward. "That's impossible. Steven wouldn't—"

"Steven did. All of you helped him." My voice stayed flat. "But dead people can't steal money."

Martinez cleared his throat. "Ladies, let's focus on the assault charge. Mrs. Ashworth, are you pressing charges?"

I looked at Margaret.

"No," I said. "She's been through enough today."

I held out the urn. Margaret's hands shook when she took it.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I said, loud enough for the cop to hear. Perfect grieving widow voice. "I wish things were different. Steven loved you both."

Margaret clutched the urn. "You cold bitch. You planned this whole thing."

I walked toward my car. "I hope you find peace."

Behind me, Margaret was sobbing. Jerry was trying to calm her down. Elena was yelling something about lawyers.

I didn't look back.

In my car, I checked the rearview mirror. The sad widow face disappeared. What was left was pure satisfaction.

Steven, you thought you could destroy me. You thought you could take everything my family worked for and leave me broke. You got to betray me, steal from me, make me look stupid. But I'm sorry, I didn't let you get your wish. I hope you can feel pain in hell too.

I started the engine and drove away, leaving them standing there with Steven's ashes and their ruined plans.