When I boarded my husband’s private jet, his secretary was sitting beside him in my usual seat, feeding him peeled oranges while his mother told me to be considerate. I didn’t argue.

reached toward me.

I stepped back.

Then the conference-room doors opened.

Two attorneys entered.

And behind them was Jasmine.

Except this time, she wasn’t carrying a notebook.

She was carrying an identification file.

She placed it on the table.

Then faced Aaron.

“My name is not Jasmine.”

Aaron stared at her.

She opened the file.

“My real name is Elena Hart.”

His face changed.

Not confusion.

Recognition.

Elena watched him carefully.

“Seven years ago, you worked for Hart Systems.”

Then she said,

“My father founded it.”

The room went silent