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My wine glass trembled slightly as I set it down on the pristine white tablecloth, the deep red liquid rippling like my carefully contained anger. The grand ballroom of the Rosewood Hotel buzzed with Seattle's tech elite, their polite laughter and clicking glasses forming a stark contrast to my husband James's booming voice. "Let me tell you about my wife's inheritance," James announced to his executive team, his hand heavy on my shoulder. "Gabriella here thinks her grandfather left her something valuable." His words dripped with condescension as he addressed the gathered crowd of startup founders and venture capitalists. I maintained my practiced smile, the one I'd perfected over five years of marriage, smoothing my black evening gown as if it were the most fascinating task in the world. Around us, crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the annual TechFusion company gala, where my husband loved to hold court as the celebrated CEO of one of Seattle's fastest-growing software companies. "You see," James continued, warming to his favorite topic of mockery, "her grandfather was this old-school investor, barely knew how to use email." He turned to Alexander Wright, his newly appointed CFO. "She keeps all these dusty old stock certificates in a safety deposit box, won't even let me digitize them." The group chuckled nervously, their eyes darting between us. I caught Naomi Parker's gaze across the table. As TechFusion's lead counsel, she'd been instrumental in several key acquisitions. Her slight frown was nearly imperceptible, but I recognized it – the same expression she wore when reviewing particularly challenging contracts. Not that my husband knew anything about those meetings. "Gabriella," Alexander interrupted smoothly, "I'd actually be quite interested in hearing about your grandfather's investment philosophy—" "Oh, Alex," James waved his hand dismissively, "trust me, it's nothing but ancient paper from dead companies. Right, honey?" His fingers dug into my shoulder with what others might mistake for affection, but I felt the possessive pressure behind it.