Chapter 1

As I signed my name on the divorce papers, Arthur was still barking his arrogant ultimatum over the phone.

"The second you walk out that door, every card is frozen. Don't expect me to cave when you come crawling back."

"See that you keep your word."

I hung up, slipped the diamond wedding band off my finger, and slammed it onto the marble table.

The butler watched my every move, eyes narrowed, seemingly terrified I might pocket a precious family heirloom on my way out.

"The young heirs have already left for their elite prep school. If you wish to say a final goodbye..."

"No need." I kept my tone mild for the very last time. "Let's not disrupt their precious schedules for something so trivial."

Dragging my suitcase, I headed for the private elevator.

As the car descended floor by floor, the further I got from that cage of an apartment, the lighter the suffocating weight in my chest became.

When I finally stepped out of that luxurious high-rise, a smile I hadn't felt in years returned to my face.

I turned back to the butler.

"Tell Arthur that as of today, he and I are entirely done."

~~~~~

Standing on the bustling streets of Manhattan with my suitcase, I felt a momentary wave of disorientation.

Ever since marrying Arthur five years ago, I had been nothing but a canary in a gilded cage, entirely severed from the real world. My medical career had been entirely suffocated by the endless charity galas and tedious family board meetings I was forced to attend just to kill time.

Thankfully, the nightmare only lasted five years, and not any longer.

I checked into a modest hotel and handed the receptionist my personal credit card. "One ticket to Boston. And I'll need this room for the night."

By that afternoon, the streets of Manhattan suddenly erupted into chaos.

I pulled back a corner of the curtain. The avenues were swarming with police escorts flashing red and blue lights, clearing the grid for a fleet of black security vehicles.

Ever since Arthur's medical empire monopolized the East Coast's high-end healthcare resources, the city's elite treated him with a fearful reverence.

That evening, when room service delivered my dinner, the staff offered a polite warning.

"A VIP had a sudden medical emergency. The medical empire's fleet has the grid locked down. Front desk suggests staying in your room. We'll have a private car take you to the airport tomorrow morning."

That night, even with my windows tightly shut, the flashing strobes of the emergency vehicles pierced the curtains.

I figured Arthur was busy saving another billionaire client—someone who would make his company's stock price soar. With his ruthless, hyper-efficient methods, I had no doubt he'd handle it flawlessly.

He always viewed patients as cash cows, entirely consumed by his capitalist games.

That was exactly how a cold-blooded CEO should be.

That was the natural order of his world.

The next morning, I got into the sedan heading for the airport.

The outbound roads were clear. After a brief exchange with the traffic officers, my driver smoothly navigated us out of the city center.

Sitting in the backseat, I could faintly hear the urgent wail of sirens fading in the distance.

"Still locked down from last night's emergency, ma'am," the driver said softly, catching my eye in the rearview mirror. "But we're in the clear. We'll be at the airport shortly."

A cold, misty rain began to fall as I stepped out of the car.

Boarding pass in hand, I breezed through security and walked toward my gate for Boston.

Five years ago, I had walked into my marriage brimming with hope. Now, that love was entirely, irrevocably dead.

Just as I was about to turn off my phone, I glanced out the terminal's floor-to-ceiling windows. Speeding through the torrential rain on the tarmac was a familiar motorcade, led by Arthur's signature stretch Cadillac Escalade.

In this downpour, whoever was getting out was bound to get soaked.

I didn't know who he was rushing to pick up—perhaps a crucial business partner.

But it didn't matter. Whoever it was, they had nothing to do with me anymore.

The plane touched down.

I had arrived in a working-class neighborhood in Boston.