Chapter 2

The crystal chandelier cast a harsh glow across the living room of our Long Island estate.

I hadn't even changed out of the tight black gown I'd worn to the gala. The anger I'd swallowed all night finally exploded.

"Julian."

My voice came out raw.

"What the hell was that?"

I stared at my husband as he casually slipped off his suit jacket.

"Why did you stand in front of every major media outlet in New York and announce—without even asking me—that I was leaving the company?"

Julian paused halfway through loosening his tie.

Then he looked at me with the same gentle smile he'd worn all evening.

"Evelina," he said calmly, "we talked about this at the hospital, remember? Your body needs time to recover. I'm doing this for your health."

"It was the most graceful way for you to step away."

My voice came out shaky. "You call that graceful?"

"The day we left the hospital, I thought you were worried about me. I thought you wanted me to take some time off. I never imagined you'd strip me of my position as partner behind my back...and hand it to Chloe."

I took a slow breath and stepped toward him.

"You told me yourself that putting Chloe in the spotlight was just a temporary marketing strategy."

"You said she was young, social-media savvy, exactly the kind of face the brand needed to maximize its exposure."

"You told me you loved me too much to let me become a public figure. You said the thought of me being picked apart by the media made you anxious."

I stared him straight in the eyes.

"Julian, those were your words. I trusted you."

"That's why I let you put Chloe front and center. I even stayed behind the scenes, fixing her amateur sketches and turning them into designs worthy of the Croft name."

My chest tightened.

"But what did you do tonight? You took my dream and the deepest wound of my life and turned them into the stepping stone for her success."

The moment Chloe's name left my lips, Julian's expression darkened ever so slightly.

Then he walked toward me, he cupped my face, his tone patient, almost soothing.

"Sweetheart, you're overthinking this. Chloe is just a tool. We need a young face in the spotlight—someone who can handle the press and keep the media happy."

He said, "But you're my wife. The most precious person in my life. You shouldn't have to deal with the filth of business dinners and endless networking. Stay home. Let me take care of everything. Isn't that a better life?"

Before I could answer, he let out a long, weary sigh.

"Enough for tonight. We've both had a difficult couple of days. You should get some rest. I still have mountains of paperwork to finish before the IPO. Things are going to be hectic."

He rubbed his temples, then turned and headed upstairs toward the master bedroom without another glance back.

I remained alone in the vast, silent living room.

Slowly, I unclenched my fists.

Half-moon cuts from my nails burned in my palms.

The man I'd loved for ten years hadn't looked heartbroken when he learned I'd never have children. He'd looked relieved.

And tonight, he'd wrapped my greatest tragedy in the prettiest words imaginable, using it as a prop to polish his image...

Without sparing a single thought for how it would destroy me.

"Just a tool..."

I let out a bitter laugh, repeating the words he'd used to comfort me.

If Chloe was really nothing more than a tool...

Then why had he gone behind my back and made her my replacement?

I forced myself to believe him. To believe this was all his way of protecting me.

But deep down, a woman's intuition had already begun tearing away at the love and trust I'd spent ten years building.

A sharp cramp twisted in my stomach.

Only then did I realize I hadn't eaten much all evening.

I dragged myself toward the kitchen, hoping a glass of warm water would settle the nausea.

As I passed Julian's study, I heard the faint hum of a printer.

He'd already gone upstairs to shower.

Had he accidentally left something queued to print?

Before I could stop myself, I pushed the door open.

The printer's blue status light blinked steadily in the darkness.

I walked over and picked up the first page still warm from the tray.

The moment I saw it, my blood ran cold.

It was a photorealistic rendering of an interior space.

And it was almost identical to Diana's Dream—the collection I'd designed months ago in memory of my grandmother after she passed away.

I still remembered the day I'd shown the sketches to Julian.

He'd barely glanced at them before tossing them aside.

His words still echoed in my ears.

"Evelina, it's too niche. There's no market for this. Trust me. Don't waste your time on designs that will never sell."

I had trusted his business instincts. So I'd packed away the entire collection. They were locked inside a box where no one would ever see it.

And yet now, page after page of those very designs was sliding out of the company's shared printer.

I looked down at the designer credit printed at the bottom of the page.

Lead Designer: Chloe Dupont.

My hands began to shake uncontrollably. I grabbed the rest of the documents and flipped through them in a panic.

The final file was a product development proposal for the upcoming season.

Julian's signature was stamped neatly across the last page.

My Diana's Dream, had been given a new name—Glimmer.

It was about to debut as Chloe Dupont's original signature collection as the company's newest partner.

So that was the truth.

He had never rejected my designs.

He had only rejected me.

My work had always been meant to feed the young, obedient "tool" he had so carefully groomed.

I stared at the warm pages in my hands.

Yet every drop of blood in my body turned ice-cold. A suffocating mix of horror and disbelief swallowed me whole.

This wasn't a coincidence.

I'd seen Chloe's abilities with my own eyes while I was helping revise her design sketches. She wasn't capable of creating anything like this.

Every collection I'd ever designed had gone through Julian first. And Diana's Dream, he was the only person who had ever seen it.

So tell me, Julian.

How much of the love you claimed to have for me had been real. And how much of it had all been part of something I was never meant to see.

The wall I'd built on ten years of trust shattered in an instant, breaking apart with the steady hum of the printer.