Tiodor Lison sat at his office desk, his gaze fixed on the computer screen. Yesterday’s events had made one thing clear: his victory was assured. On the monitor, he once again reviewed the report on Libia Musso. It detailed every time the young woman had seen a psychologist. He had needed some money to dig deeper into her file, but it only confirmed what he had already suspected.

“Depressive disorders, anxiety, all due to a disorganized attachment in childhood,” he read aloud.

“Poor fool,” he thought to himself. But her problems weren’t his concern. He was there to carry out revenge, and pity wasn’t something that defined him. The sound of someone knocking on the door pulled him from his thoughts.

“Come in,” he said gruffly.

“Mr. Lison, Mrs. Madison has called again,” Sarah informed him, a mocking smile on her lips.

“Ericka can go to hell,” he growled through clenched teeth.

The woman in question was a stunning twenty-seven-year-old he had dated a few months ago. They had enjoyed them