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Ten years into my marriage, Marcus Hayes’s first love, Chloe White, suddenly returned from abroad. He brought her straight to our home. Marcus looked at me, his face etched with guilt. “Chloe left the country for me all those years ago. She went through so much.” “I have a responsibility to take care of her.” Even my stepson, whom I’d raised and painstakingly nurtured, now looked at me with open resentment. I calmly suggested a divorce. He sneered, reminding me, “Don’t forget our prenup. If you’re the one who files for divorce, you’ll walk away with absolutely nothing. Every cent of the assets in your name will be forfeited.” He was so certain I’d never give up the wealth and prestige I’d worked ten years for, that I’d