Chapter 1
On her third wedding anniversary with Zack Finch, Queenie Goodman received two gifts.
One was a diamond necklace sent over by Zack's secretary. Just like every year, it was pricey, icy, and didn't have a hint of warmth.
The other was something she'd prepared herself: the divorce papers she'd already signed.
Queenie sat in the living room, waiting until midnight, until Zack finally came home reeking of alcohol and an unfamiliar perfume.
"Still up?" Zack loosened his tie. His eyes swept over the papers on the coffee table, and he let out a mocking laugh. "Queenie, is this another one of your games? Trying to manipulate me again?"
Queenie looked up at him, her gaze steady, and turned her phone screen toward him.
It was a photo Zack's assistant had just posted on social media. In the dimly lit club, Zack was holding a woman in his arms, and his expression was tender.
The woman was Mandy Smith, Zack's first love, the one he'd never been able to forget.
"Happy third anniversary, Zack." Queenie's voice was as cold and still as a frozen lake. "I got your gift. This is my gift to you in return. Sign it, and you're free. So am I."
Zack's smile froze on his face. He stared at Queenie, who appeared transformed overnight, no longer gentle or timid. For the first time, he realized he was no longer in control.
"What's that supposed to mean?" His voice dropped to that usual commanding tone.
"Take it at face value." Queenie stood up and slid the papers toward him. "I only want the little apartment on Southside. I don't want your money, your things, or even you. I'm done."
"Queenie!" Zack's voice shot up as he grabbed her wrist, his grip so tight she winced. "All this over a photo? I was playing along, nothing serious! Can't you be more reasonable?"
Her wrist stung, but Queenie smiled, coldly, eyes empty. "Just playing along? Zack, do you even remember what today is?"
Zack froze.
Seeing his blank expression, whatever pitiful hope Queenie had left was crushed.
She yanked her hand back and pointed toward the dining room. "I made dinner. Since three o'clock, I've been warming it up and letting it go cold, over and over. I thought you'd at least remember, maybe even call me."
She took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in her throat. Her gaze was nothing but clear and distant when she looked up again.
She said, "But it doesn't matter anymore. None of it does. Just look over the papers, sign them, and contact my lawyer. I'll stay in the guest room tonight, and I'm moving out tomorrow."
With that, she turned, grabbed a small suitcase she'd already packed from beside the sofa, and walked toward the guest room without looking back at Zack.
"Are you really sure about this?" Zack called after her, his voice cold, anger simmering just beneath. "Walk away from the Finch family, walk away from me—who will you even be, Queenie? How long do you think you'll survive in that tiny apartment?"
Queenie stopped in her tracks, but she didn't turn around.
"Save your concern for someone else, Mr. Finch." Her voice floated back, light and detached. "I'd rather be Queenie Goodman with nothing than Mrs. Finch, summoned and dismissed whenever you please. At least then, I belong to myself."
The door to the guest room closed softly, and the click of the lock echoed through the room.
Zack stood there, staring at the door, a wild, nameless anger burning in his chest. He yanked off his tie in frustration and snatched up the divorce papers.
The terms were laughably simple. Queenie really only wanted that little apartment, barely worth a million.
She was leaving everything behind: the Finch family's fortune, Zack's possessions, all of it. She didn't ask for a single cent. She was severing all ties, leaving nothing behind.
Zack thought Queenie would cry, throw a fit, or confront him about Mandy in a jealous rage. He'd even prepared all his excuses and harsh words in advance.
But instead, she was calm—calm as she handed him the divorce papers, calm as she packed her suitcase, calm as she walked away.
That kind of calm unsettled Zack far more than any outburst ever could.
He slammed the divorce papers onto the coffee table,
The diamond necklace was knocked off, landing on the carpet. Its shine was completely gone.
Zack glanced at the dining room; the candles Queenie had arranged so carefully had burned out long ago, their melted wax now hardened into ugly scars across the table.
Wrong. Everything was wrong.
What Zack didn't realize was that this wasn't the end. It was the start of his personal hell, desperately chasing after the woman he'd lost.
Because when Queenie walked out, she was already pregnant with his baby.