She loved him until she had no dignity left—three years, one hundred divorce papers signed, one hundred times she crawled back begging him. She let him force alcohol on her despite her allergies, let her stepsister smash her mother's keepsake, let a slap break the hearing aid she'd worn since she was nineteen. And on the one hundred and first time, she put on a blood-red gown, signed, and walked out. Outside the door, the low-profile Silicon Valley tycoon who had quietly funded her mother's cancer treatment for years was already waiting with open arms. Only after she was gone did he understand: what he had thrown away with his own hands was not a kneeling woman, but a star he would never catch again in this lifetime.