Chapter One Hundred-Fifty

Because that was the real prize, wasn’t it? The millions of dollars Beckett refused to touch, sitting in an account like a promise waiting to be fulfilled. Money that could buy the life Fiona had always deserved. The penthouse in Manhattan, the summer house in the Hamptons, the winters in Aspen. All of it within reach if she could just get Beckett to see reason.

And when Warren kicked the bucket,