After My Divorce, I Took a Job Caring for a Wheelchair-Bound President. My Ex-Mother-in-Law Sneered, “You’ll Find Out How Hard It Is to Survive Alone.” But on My First Night, While I Was Helping Him Bathe, He Suddenly Whispered, “Lock the Door.”

The Vitalis Health relaunch gala was the most opulent event of the social season. The grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel was dripping in crystal chandeliers, imported orchids, and the city's most elite billionaires. It was the perfect stage for Richard's grand return to society.

I stood by his side, wearing a stunning, backless emerald gown that commanded attention from every camera flash in the room. Richard looked devastatingly sharp in a custom tuxedo, holding a flute of champagne and charming a circle of wealthy investors.

"You look absolutely breathtaking tonight, Maya," Richard murmured, wrapping a possessive arm around my waist. "Everyone is looking at the woman who saved my life."

I smiled sweetly, masking the intense disgust churning in my stomach. "We make a great team, Richard."

My clutch purse felt heavy in my hand. Inside was the encrypted flash drive, loaded with a highly aggressive computer virus I had acquired from my hacker. The downloaded files from the server were only copies; to truly destroy Richard, I needed to wipe the original Genesis Protocol source code from his master laptop, which was currently sitting in the penthouse suite directly above us.

"I need to use the ladies' room," I whispered, gently untangling myself from his grip. "I will be right back."

"Don't take too long," he smiled, his dark eyes flashing with an unreadable emotion. "We have a major announcement to make at midnight."

I walked gracefully through the crowd, slipping past the velvet ropes and into the restricted VIP elevator. I swiped my executive keycard, and the doors glided shut, carrying me up to the top floor.

The penthouse was silent and cloaked in darkness. I moved quickly to the massive oak desk in the center of the room. Richard's master laptop was sitting perfectly aligned with the edge of the leather blotter. I flipped it open and inserted the flash drive.

A command prompt appeared, asking for the master password. I typed in the sequence I had deciphered from the server files. The screen turned bright crimson, and a progress bar appeared: Initiating Total File Purge.

I watched the counter tick upward, my heart hammering against my ribs. Ten percent. Thirty percent. Sixty percent.

Suddenly, the electronic lock on the penthouse door beeped loudly. The heavy oak door swung open, and the lights blazed to life.