Chapter 1
My husband divorced me so his mistress could have a proper title.
"Just sign the papers, Marion."
A month ago, Nolan had tossed the divorce agreement onto our dining table without even looking at me.
He was checking his phone.
Waiting for her.
Iris Bell.
The ballet dancer who cried whenever she wanted something—and somehow, every tear she shed cost me another piece of my marriage.
"She doesn’t want people calling her the other woman," Nolan said impatiently. "Once she feels secure, I’ll marry you again."
I stared at him.
He actually believed that was generous.
"You’re my real wife," he continued. "You know that. I still need you to run the Foundation."
Need me.
Not love me.
Not choose me.
Need me.
I had spent seven years playing the invisible ghost. I fixed his bad investments. I buried his scandals. I burned my own art career to ash just to keep his spotlight burning bright.
He mistook my silence for submission. He thought I would always be his obedient harbor.
And now he wanted to temporarily erase me so another woman could feel important.
So I signed.
He smiled.
He thought I had obeyed.
What he didn't know was that thirty seconds ago, my divorce had become legally final.
I stared at the glowing words on my laptop screen.
YOUR DIVORCE IS NOW LEGALLY FINAL.
Seven years.
Gone with one sentence.
And for the first time, I felt nothing.
Bzz.
My phone lit up on the table. Nolan.
[Be at the anniversary dinner tonight. But sit at a side table.]
[Do not steal Iris's thunder. She is nervous.]
Then, the fatal blow.
[Iris will be wearing that white dress tonight. She needs to look like the lady of the house. You are my true wife, Marion, so you should be more understanding.]
The blood in my veins turned to liquid nitrogen.
The white dress. My mother’s founding gown. The last physical piece of her legacy I had fought to keep in this world. Nolan was stripping it from my family’s history to buy his mistress a single night of vanity.
He was still issuing commands. He still thought he held my leash. He didn't know the divorce was already legally binding.
I didn’t argue. I didn't beg.
[Okay. See you tonight.] I typed, hollow and cold.
I put the phone down. I gripped the diamond on my left hand and pulled.
The band scraped over my knuckle, leaving a raw, angry red mark on my skin. I dropped it onto the table.
Click.
The suffocating weight was finally gone. Mrs. Reed was dead.
My phone chimed again. Not Nolan.
Theo.
The billionaire chairman Nolan had spent six humiliating months trying to get a meeting with. The man who had offered me a way out, while I foolishly stayed in the shadows.
[Are you finally free?]
I looked around the empty room, the cage I had built for a man who despised me. A smile curled my lips. Not a soft, wifely smile. A predator’s smile.
[Today.] I replied.
Three seconds later.
[Good. Then tonight, I will pick you up.]