Chapter 3

James's latest lover was the young woman from last night—Sierra Lane, a model with a modest online following.

Unlike the other women who drifted in and out of his life, Sierra was ambitious and didn't bother to hide it. She believed she was James's "true love," here to save him from the dull, uninteresting wife he was stuck with—me.

Soon enough, her social media was filled with thinly veiled jabs.

One day, a photo of her having coffee in the Linkletters' garden, captioned: [The sun is perfect. Home is wherever my love is.]

Another day, a limited-edition designer bag, captioned: [Mr. L knows my favorite color.]

That deliberate Mr. L was suggestive and proud all at once.

Sierra was clever. Every photo skillfully avoided showing James's face, but every detail was a declaration to the world, especially to me, of her presence and her favored status.

Some of my so-called "best friends" started dropping hints, trying to get the scoop. On the phone, their voices were full of concern, but I could hear the gleeful curiosity behind every word.

"Claire, is James really busy these days? I think I saw something online that didn't look too good."

"You better keep an eye on him. Young girls these days have all sorts of tricks up their sleeves."

I replied coolly, "James has a lot of pressure at work. He needs to unwind. I get it."

My so-called "generosity" and "weakness" were quickly passed around by those women, and before long, James and Sierra were hearing all about it.

Sierra thought I was a paper tiger, so she felt even more untouchable. James, meanwhile, was enjoying the best of both worlds. He appreciated my composure, and the spark Sierra brought was a breath of fresh air.

The real showdown went down at a charity party.

As James's wife, I arrived dressed to the nines. Sierra, meanwhile, somehow snagged an invite—no one knew what strings she pulled to get in.

She made her entrance in a blazing red evening gown, champagne glass in hand, heading straight for me. The other socialites immediately tuned in, eager for the spectacle.

"Mrs. Linkletter, hello," Sierra greeted me, her smile sugary sweet, but her gaze laced with venom. "You look gorgeous today. Is that the Heart of Eternity? It looks amazing on you."

I smiled and nodded, my fingers brushing the necklace James gave me for our third anniversary—back when he still cared to act as he loved me.

"Thank you," I replied softly.

Sierra's smile deepened as she deliberately brushed her hair back, revealing a pair of stylish new diamond earrings.

She said, "These earrings? James, I mean, Mr. Linkletter, gave them to me yesterday. He said the Heart of Eternity is a classic, but that's in the past. People have to move on, and the new is always the best, don't you think, Mrs. Linkletter?"

That was a blatant declaration of war.

The air was thick with tension. Everyone's eyes were glued to me, waiting for me to blow up and embarrass myself.

I caught James standing not far away, laughing it up with some business partners. Every so often, he'd glance over at us, that amused look in his eyes like he was watching his favorite drama unfold.

He was practically hoping I'd lose it, so he could swoop in as the "arbiter" and assert his dominance.

I smiled—not a cold, sarcastic smile, but an authentic, heartfelt one.

I even stepped forward, closing the distance between us with an affectionate, almost condescending air, like a caring elder looking at a clueless youngster.

"Ms. Lane, right? You're young, beautiful, and full of energy," I said, my voice soft but clear enough for everyone nearby to catch. "James has a lot of stress at work, and he likes a lively atmosphere.

"Our family isn't like others. We don't have so many rules. You young people, have a good time."

With that, I raised my champagne glass in a distant toast to her, and then turned and walked gracefully toward another group of guests, leaving Sierra standing there, stunned.

Her face went from red to white, like someone had spilled paint all over a palette. All those battle lines she'd rehearsed were wiped out by my gentle, almost mocking move.

Everyone's favorite gossip about my "weakness and foolish generosity" was now confirmed for all to see.

The amusement in James's eyes faded into outright contempt. He figured he'd broken me for good, that I was nothing more than a lifeless trophy wife, clinging to my status and nothing else.

That night, Sierra fired off a new post: [Some people are nothing but corpses, keeping the seat warm.]

But I knew that the moment was almost ripe.

A few days later, Ethan hit me up: [James, pushed by Sierra, was moving a huge nine-figure sum through offshore trusts and all sorts of shady fronts, straight into a shell company run by Sierra's family.]

James thought he was pulling a fast one, that nobody would ever catch on.

But what he didn't realize was that when I helped him set up the company, I left a little backdoor in the legal framework. I'd been watching every shady transfer he tried to make.

Ethan called me and asked, "Should we start the asset recovery process now?"

"No," I said, gazing out at the moon, cold as frost. "Let him keep transferring. The more, the better.

"Every single move he makes is more undeniable evidence of him illegally shifting assets during our marriage. I'm going to make sure he walks away with nothing."