Chapter 1

My husband, Simon Reed, was a top lawyer. He took on a case that shook the whole city, defending his first love, Lydia Winters, who was accused of murder.

The night before the trial, he finally begged me for the first time, his eyes bloodshot. "Sarah, I'm begging you. Let Lydia go. Just drop the charges, and I'll do anything you want."

I looked at him, the man I'd shared a bed with for five years. He was willing to risk his entire future for another woman, asking me, the lead prosecutor, to bend the law for him.

I smiled, gently pulling his hand off my arm, and said firmly, "Simon, I'll see you in court."

The light in his eyes vanished, replaced by a chilling hatred.

I knew it was over between us.

But I knew this was only the beginning.

Simon thought this was a battle for love, but he was dead wrong.

From the moment he chose to defend Lydia, this had turned into a hunt for justice.

Both Simon and Lydia were my prey.

*****

"Mrs. Reed, here's the case file for Frank Knight's fall. The department just handed it over. It's pretty complicated, and Mr. Jones requested you to take charge," my assistant Cole said.

He placed a thick stack of files on my desk, looking a bit grim.

I gave a nod and opened the case file.

The victim was Frank Knight, founder of the publicly traded company, Nightfall Tech. He fell from the window of his own office late at night three days ago and died on the spot.

There were no signs of a struggle at the scene, and the doors and windows were intact. Initially, it was ruled a suicide.

But after the autopsy, the medical examiner found Frank's blood loaded with sleeping pills, and a rare neurotoxin, which was strong enough to make an adult's muscles go limp and their mind turn fuzzy within half an hour.

The suicide ruling was overturned, and the case was reclassified as a criminal one.

As I scanned the pages, my finger stopped at the list of suspects.

Lydia Winters.

Her name pierced my heart like a dagger.

She was Frank's business rival, and the CEO of Stellar Ventures.

But even more than that, she was Simon's first love, the woman he'd cherished for ten years.

I took a deep breath, forcing down the storm of emotions inside me, and kept reading.

The police report said that at 9 p.m. on the night of the incident, Lydia was the only visitor to Frank's office. The two talked alone for almost an hour.

Less than thirty minutes after she left, Frank fell to his death.

Surveillance footage showed Lydia leaving, looking nervous and wearing a pair of new gloves.

Even more damning, the police found a vial of the same neurotoxin in her car—the same type found in Frank's blood, with only her fingerprints on the bottle.

With both witness statements and physical evidence, the chain of proof was nearly flawless.

I closed the file, but a wave of unease washed over me.

This case was way too perfect.

So perfect that it felt like a carefully laid trap.

"Mrs. Reed," Cole hesitated, "the defense attorney for this case... has already been chosen."

"Who is it?" I asked.

"It's Mr. Reed."

My heart dropped, like I'd been plunged into freezing water.

I knew it.

Just then, my phone rang. The screen flashed with the caller ID "honey".

I waved Cole out and answered, my voice flat. "Hello?"

"Sarah, where are you? I'm home." Simon's voice was as gentle as always.

"I'm working late at the office."

"What do you want for dinner tonight? I'll cook for you."

Normally, I'd laugh and say, "Ribs." He'd always say yes, spoiling me as usual.

But today, it felt so ironic.

"Simon," I cut him off, "did you take Lydia's case?"

There was a long silence on the line.

That silence felt as if an invisible hand was tightening around my throat.

"Yes," he finally spoke, his voice turned cold. "Someone set her up."

"How can you be so sure?" I pressed.

"I know Lydia. She would never do something like that."

I scoffed, anger bubbling up. "Simon, you're a lawyer, not a mind reader. Does what you know about Lydia count as evidence in court?"

"Sarah!" Simon's voice shot up, laced with impatience. "I don't want to argue. This is just a case. Can we just stick to our roles?"

Just stuck to our roles?

Easy for him to say.

On one side of the courtroom, the prosecutor was the wife. On the other side, the defense attorney was the husband. Both fighting for the same woman: one determined to convict her, the other desperate to set her free.

If word got out about this case, the whole legal scene in Rivergate would be gossiping about us.

"No," I replied coldly. "Simon, drop the case. Give it to someone else."

"Forget it," he fired back, just as resolute. "I promised Lydia I'd protect her for the rest of her life."

"Then what about me?" I blurted out, my voice trembling. "Our marriage, your career—do you not care about any of it anymore?"

"Sarah, calm down. This is different."

"Different? How is it different?" I nearly shouted. "Just because she's Lydia, everything changes, right?"

The silence on the other end was deafening.

Finally, Simon spoke, his voice so exhausted that I barely recognized him. "Sarah, stop being unreasonable."

Then he hung up.

I gripped my phone, the cold beep echoing in my ear. For a moment, it felt like every drop of blood in my body froze solid.

Outside, the city was awash in shimmering lights, glowing with life.

But my world collapsed into darkness.