My husband—unaware that I earned $4.2 million a year—shouted at me: “You sick psycho! I’ve already filed for divorce. Be out of my house by tomorrow.”

• My bank—to restrict account access.

By morning, Naomi had reviewed the public records. Trent was right about one thing:

His name was on the deed.

But he didn’t know the full story behind that deed.

And he certainly didn’t know who had funded the down payment.

At 8:12 a.m., Trent pounded on the guest room door.

“I said tomorrow,” he growled.

I opened the door halfway and looked him in the eye. “I heard you,” I said calmly. “And you’ll be hearing from me soon.”