Chapter 1

The evening subway ride home is stifling when I bump into an old college classmate.

He looks at me with a sickening trace of pity in his eyes, asking if I still hate Victoria Snow after all these years.

"Victoria asked me to pass along a message," he says. "If you are willing to just swallow your pride and apologize, she is open to giving you a chance to start over."

I simply laugh.

I look him dead in the eye, declaring, "My child is already three years old. Start over? In her dreams."

He has absolutely no idea that I am no longer the pathetic, love-blind fool who used to drag himself through the dirt just for a scrap of her affection.

He also has no idea that the high-and-mighty girl he worships is, in my reality, nothing more than the lead clown in a pathetic circus show I am about to watch entirely for free.

*****

The evening subway car felt like a packed sardine tin, the air heavy with the lingering scent of cheap cologne, sweat, and stale pizza. I held onto the overhead rail, staring blankly at my own vague reflection in the dark glass of the window.

It was a ridiculously handsome face. It was a shame that the owner of this face had absolutely no interest in his own looks and only wanted to rush home to hold his wife and daughter.

"Isaac Duncan?"

A hesitant voice broke through the low hum of the train.

I turned my head and saw a slick, slightly greasy face framed by gold-rimmed glasses. He looked vaguely familiar.

Right. It was Wyatt Hayes. We went to college together. He was also the most loyal lapdog to my former fiancée, Victoria Snow.

"It really is you, Isaac," Wyatt said with a theatrical look of shock, as if he had just spotted an endangered species. "I thought I had the wrong guy. Are you seriously still taking the subway to work?"

His eyes swept over my plain cotton t-shirt and casual slacks. The superiority radiating from his gaze was almost suffocating.

I gave him a brief nod, not bothering to speak. Honestly, debating what was for dinner was a much better use of my brain than talking to someone like him.

"Hey, do not blame me for being blunt," Wyatt continued, unbothered by my coldness. He pitched his voice loud enough for the surrounding commuters to hear. "If you had listened to Victoria back then and stopped being so stubborn, you wouldn't be in this mess.

"Look at me. I joined Snow Enterprises right out of college. I am a vice president now, and I just leased a brand-new BMW 5 Series last month."

He puffed out his chest, subtly highlighting the slight beer belly straining against his designer belt.

I nodded again and offered a flat hum of acknowledgement.

In my head, I was simply thinking about the limited-edition Bugatti parked in my garage. A single tire from that car could easily buy his entire fleet of leased BMWs.

Wyatt was clearly dissatisfied with my lack of awe. He cleared his throat and finally got to the real reason he was talking to me.

"By the way, Victoria actually brought you up at the alumni mixer a few days ago."

He moved closer and lowered his voice, sounding like he was doing me a favor. "She said enough time has passed. She knows she played a part in what happened. If you just bow your head and say sorry, she might actually take you back."

He paused, acting as if he were delivering a decree from heaven. "Victoria is the CEO of Snow Enterprises now. Her net worth is on a completely different level.

"If you get back together with her, you will never have to worry about money for the rest of your life."

I stared at him for a long moment. Finally, I couldn't hold it back anymore and laughed out loud.

A few passengers turned their heads to look at us.

Wyatt's face instantly flushed. "What is so funny?"

I stopped laughing and looked him dead in the eye, enunciating every single word. "Do me a favor and tell Victoria that my daughter is already three years old. Tell her to go rekindle a damn romance with someone else."

The train glided into the station, and the doors slid open.

I pushed past the crowd and stepped onto the platform without looking back, leaving Wyatt standing alone in the subway car with an expression like he had just sucked on a lemon.

As I stepped out of the station, the evening breeze felt incredibly soothing against my skin. I pulled out my phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Hey, honey," I said.

A voice soft enough to melt ice came through the speaker. "Hey. Where are you? Emma and I are starving."

"I am almost home," I said, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "I am cooking tonight. I will make that slow-roasted beef Wellington you love."

"Yes. Daddy is the best." My daughter's bright, melodic cheer echoed through the phone.

I hung up, my smile widening.

Victoria Snow? It was a name that lived in the absolute deepest dumpster of my memories, a piece of trash I couldn't even be bothered to recycle.

She actually thought she was still the queen who could dictate my happiness. It was laughable.

She had no idea that the moment she walked away from me at our wedding, the foolish Isaac who loved her to death had died with that relationship.

The man breathing right now only wanted to be a happy, wealthy loafer. I just wanted to spend my days with my beautiful wife and kid, watching the arrogant, self-important Victoria slowly orchestrate her own destruction.

After all, watching a clown perform was one of my few remaining hobbies.