Chapter 1

After three years of marriage to Richard, who was nine years older than I, I walked into his office and caught him pinning another woman to his desk.

He buttoned up his shirt and glanced at me. "Claire, stop making a scene. You're still a kid."

I didn't say a word.

I signed the divorce papers.

Two years later, in the front row at Fashion Week, I caught him in the crowd, staring at me with nothing but regret in his eyes.

But the man by my side was better looking, wealthier, and loved me more than he ever could.

*****

I finished my fabric sourcing trip in Milan three days early.

I didn't text Richard Lane at all on the way back, hoping to surprise him at his office and see the look of shock on his face.

It had been three months since we'd last seen each other.

I picked out a tie for him at the airport duty-free shop. It was a deep blue one with subtle patterns, the understated style he liked.

In the executive lounge on the 52nd floor of Lane Tower, the receptionist recognized me and smiled. "Mr. Lane is in a meeting."

I waved her off and swiped my card to enter his private lounge.

The door wasn't locked.

I gently pushed it open a crack, hoping to sneak up and hug him from behind.

And then I saw it.

Behind the desk, Richard was lounging in his chair, his suit jacket long gone, shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms.

A woman was in front of him.

That sleek bob, and that gray tailored dress. I recognized her: Olivia Stone.

She was the VP at Bluebird Capital, always sitting to Richard's right at every Business Gala.

I'd asked him before, "What's going on between you and Olivia?"

He ruffled my hair and said, "We're business partners. She's way too bossy for my taste."

He said he liked girls like me: soft, sweet, and obedient.

I believed him.

I believed him for three years.

The tie box slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a soft thud.

Richard's head snapped up.

Our eyes met.

His expression shifted from shock to composure in two seconds.

Olivia stood up, dabbed at her lips, and turned to look at me. "Claire, you're here?"

She called my name, Claire, so softly.

"Talk about bad timing," Olivia said, smoothing her hair. "Richard is in a mood today. I was comforting him."

I didn't bother looking at Olivia. I kept my eyes fixed on Richard.

He slowly buttoned up his shirt, fastening each button one after another, then got up and walked over to me.

I stood there, waiting for him to explain himself.

Richard finally broke the silence. "Claire, it's time for you to grow up."

I waited for thirty seconds.

I waited for him to tell me it was a misunderstanding, to apologize, to push Olivia away.

But he didn't say a word.

"Grow up?" I heard myself say, my voice dry and unfamiliar.

"That's right," Richard said, leaning back against the desk, in a tone as if he were lecturing a clueless kid. "The adult world isn't as black and white as you think."

Olivia snickered beside me. "Girl, you really think marriage is some kind of fairy tale or something?"

I stared at Richard's face.

There were three whole years. From the day I married him at nineteen, all the way to now.

I kept it hidden from everyone, even my dad. I left my hometown and came all the way here to be his secret wife.

He always said he'd go public when the time was right.

He said he didn't want the outside world to interfere with our lives.

I believed him.

"I want a divorce," I said.

I was weirdly calm as I said it.

Richard raised an eyebrow, giving me that look as if I were some brat having a fit. "Oh, not this again."

"This isn't 'again'," I shot back. "It's the first time, and the last."

Olivia grabbed her bag and waved at Richard. "Go ahead, smooth things over with her. I'm heading out. Catch you later for dinner."

Her heels clicked loudly against the marble floor.

As she passed by me, she paused and whispered, "Be smart. Don't stir things up. Trust me, you've already got more from him than most ever will."

The door closed behind her.

Just the two of us, alone in that office.

Richard walked over, reaching out to ruffle my hair as he always did.

I stepped back.

His hand froze in midair. "Claire."

"Don't touch me," I said.

He withdrew his hand and let out a sigh. "If you want to make a scene, go ahead. When you've had enough, we'll go home."

I gave a sarcastic laugh. "Home? Which home do you mean? The office you and Olivia share?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I saw it with my own eyes."

"And what exactly did you see?" Richard shot back. "All you saw was me talking business with a partner, right?"

"You call that normal business?" I shot back.

"Claire," Richard finally snapped, his patience clearly running out. "Can't you act like an adult for once?

"I've told you before. James, Olivia. People like them are nothing but business connections to me. If you want to read too much into it, that's on you."