Chapter 1

I paid the full 2.9 million for the villa, imagining a future with my husband, Michael Goodman.

As we were signing the final papers, Michael kept urging me to pay immediately.

I glanced at the title deed and froze. The owner's name wasn't his. It was Linda Goodman, his mother.

He smiled casually. "Putting it in my mom's name makes things easier down the line."

I looked at him, thinking about every dollar he earned, two million a year, and how he never spent a cent on us. A wave of disgust washed over me.

I forced my voice to stay steady. "So, Michael, you're saving that two million a year for your next wife?"

His face drained of color in an instant.

*****

The heating in the real estate office was cranked up way too high. The air was thick with the scent of coffee and the unmistakable smell of money, making it hard to breathe.

In front of me lay a thick stack of purchase contracts, with the final payment agreement right on top.

Michael was grinning from ear to ear as he urged the real estate agent, "Could you please hurry? My wife is a bit tired today. She'd like to finish up and head home to rest."

As he spoke, Michael gently slid a cup of warm water to my side, his fingers tapping the table, quietly hinting that I should sign the papers already.

Everything seemed so perfect. I had a considerate husband, our soon-to-be love nest, and a bright future just within reach.

It wasn't until my eyes drifted over the property owner information sheet attached to the contract that something felt off.

Under the "Owner" section, neither my name nor Michael's appeared. Instead, it was Linda.

For a few seconds, my mind went totally blank. It was as if all the warmth drained out of me. My fingertips went numb, and even the cup of warm water seemed ice-cold now.

The 2.9 million was my entire fortune from years of slogging at work. It was the last bit of inheritance my parents left me and the foundation that made me feel safe in facing the future.

But the house that all my money would buy was going to be put in Linda's name.

I forced myself to look up at Michael.

He was still grinning, but the smile on the face I used to think was handsome and dependable suddenly looked painfully sharp.

"Michael, what's going on?" My voice was soft, yet it trembled slightly.

The real estate agent's professional smile froze for a moment. He glanced at Michael and then at me and wisely kept quiet.

"Oh, that?" Michael leaned in, lowered his voice, sounding all gentle and like it was no big deal.

"Nevaeh, let me explain. Putting the house under my mom's name will save us so much hassle later. Just think. If the government ever brings in property or inheritance taxes, we won't have to worry about a thing. It's really for us, you know."

He said it so casually, like he was just talking about what to eat for dinner.

But inside, my heart was sinking, little by little.

For us?

I stared at Michael, this so-called high-flying finance executive with a two-million-dollar salary, who hadn't spent a single cent from house-hunting to closing the deal, just talked a good game.

Now, he expected me to hand over every penny I'd saved, just to buy a house that would be registered under his mother's name.

A wave of nausea rolled up from my stomach, so strong that it made me physically sick.

I calmly looked away, pushed the contract aside, locked eyes with Michael, and asked, word by word, "So, Michael, you're saving that two million a year for your next wife?"

The air froze in that instant.

Michael's smile disappeared in a flash. First, it was replaced by shock, then awkwardness, and finally a stormy anger that darkened his face.

Michael hissed, lowering his voice in warning, "Are you done causing a scene? There are so many people watching!"

The other customers and real estate agents pretended to be busy, but their ears were clearly tuned in, and their sneaky glances felt like needles stabbing Michael's pride.

I didn't even look at him. I calmly turned to the now flustered real estate agent and said, "Sorry, but there's a problem with this contract. I'm not signing."

"Don't you dare!" Michael grabbed my wrist so hard that it felt like my bones were about to crack.

The pain shot through her arm, sharp and relentless, making me wince.

In two years of marriage, he'd never laid a hand on me like this, especially not in front of other people.

My brows knitted in pain, but I refused to make a sound. I just stared Michael down, my eyes locked on his face, twisted with rage.

The agents and staff exchanged awkward glances, the tension in the room almost unbearable.

I yanked my wrist free from his grip, and a red mark instantly bloomed around it.

"You want me to spend 2.9 million to buy your mom a villa? Michael, do I look like an idiot to you?"

My voice was quiet, icy calm, yet every word struck like a stone, shattering the room's fragile calm.

All around us, whispers started bubbling up. Their curious looks quickly turned into scorn and amusement, like they were watching a drama unfold.

Michael's face went from pale to a deep, ugly shade of purple.

He finally started to panic, forcing down his anger and trying to sound gentle again. "Nevaeh, you misunderstood. Can we talk about this at home? Really, it's just to avoid risks. It's all for us, I promise."

Hearing such a flimsy excuse right now just made my heart turn cold. He wasn't just greedy. He actually thought I was some fool he could play for a sucker.

So that was how he saw me, not even worthy of the most basic respect.

I picked up my Birkin bag, the one I'd gifted myself last year after landing the company's biggest deal.

Without sparing Michael another glance, I nodded politely to the real estate agent. "I'll handle the deposit as per the contract, and pay the penalty for breaking it. We're not buying this house."

With those words, I turned and walked away.

The sharp, decisive click of my heels echoed across the polished marble floor. Each step felt like a farewell to her foolish, fantasy-filled past.

I could feel Michael's gaze stabbing into my back like a blade, sharp and relentless.

I didn't look back, leaving him standing there alone. He was forced to endure the scornful stares and mocking whispers of everyone around.