Chapter 1
On the very day of the divorce from my rich husband, I purposely invited him and his side chick to meet me at a café.
Yvette Gordon, the side chick, rubbed her belly with a smug look. "Diana, just let us be. Barnaby loves the baby and me."
My husband, Barnaby Osborne, slid a divorce agreement across the table. "Sign it. Don't push your luck."
I didn't even glance at the papers. Instead, I looked over at the table next to us, where my badass bestie sat with her sunglasses on.
She took off her sunglasses, revealing a face that was almost a carbon copy of Barnaby's.
She walked right up to him and slapped him hard across the face, then coldly said, "You bastard, I'm your long-lost sister, and I'm the real heir to this family. Now, I'm kicking you and that bastard baby of yours out."
*****
The café was blasting the AC, but even with the chill in the air, the two people sitting across from me made my stomach turn. Honestly, the vibe was way more suffocating than the sweltering heat outside.
Barnaby, my husband, shoved a document across the table, the paper making a sharp, grating noise as it slid over to me.
"Diana, sign it," he said, his voice cold as ice. "Don't make a scene. It's not going to help you."
At the very top, the words "Divorce Agreement" stared back at me in big, bold letters, like they were laughing at our three years together.
Beside him, Yvette had her arm wrapped around his, absently rubbing her baby bump.
She shot me a look full of smug triumph and fake pity, like she'd already won and was doing me a favor.
"Diana, just let us be," she cooed, her voice sugar-sweet, but every word was a poisoned dart. "Barnaby loves the baby and me. You've been Mrs. Osborne long enough; time to hand it over."
She put on that helpless act, but inside, I felt nothing but icy detachment.
Three years of marriage, I gave everything to the Osborne family, ditched my own career, played housekeeper for him and his demanding mom, and all I got was being called just a placeholder.
Barnaby shot me a look, his brows furrowed in impatience. "My mom's already agreed to let Yvette join the family. You're signing this today, whether you like it or not."
"And what if I refuse?" I asked, meeting his eyes with icy calm.
Yvette's eyes immediately filled with tears as she snuggled up to Barnaby, playing the victim. "Barnaby, is Diana still blaming me? But you can't help who you fall for, right? We are true love."
Barnaby pulled her closer, glaring at me with even more disgust. "Diana, don't be so shameless. Three years as my wife, and you couldn't even give me a child. Now Yvette's carrying the Osborne bloodline. What right do you have to stick around?
"Just sign the papers and get out of my life. This downtown apartment and 300 thousand dollars, that's the only kindness you'll ever get from me."
300 thousand dollars?
Back when I married him, the villa my parents gifted me was worth a hell of a lot more than that.
Didn't even bother with the papers. I looked right past them to the window seat.
There was a woman in a sharp black suit and designer shades, her whole vibe pure badass. She was just stirring her coffee, totally unfazed by the drama.
That was my best friend, Sydney Morales.
I gave her the tiniest nod, barely noticeable.
The next moment, Sydney put down her coffee cup.
The sharp clink of porcelain made Barnaby and Yvette look over without thinking.
Sydney rose to her feet, her long legs moving with purpose, heels clicking on the polished floor, each sound pounding in my chest, and in Barnaby's shock.
She strode over to our table and took off her sunglasses.
Her face was drop-dead gorgeous and totally badass, with deep-set eyes, a sharp nose, and those eyes and thin lips looked a lot like Barnaby's.
Barnaby's eyes went wide in shock. "You..."
Yvette was left speechless, probably trying to figure out who this woman with such a powerful vibe was.
Before they could even process what was happening, Sydney's hand shot out, and she landed a slap right across Barnaby's face.