Chapter 1

I spent three years hiding who I really was, playing the perfect housewife because I loved him, but he only saw me as a useless trophy wife.

My husband's secretary took my supplementary black card and threw lavish dinners at high-end restaurants, inviting all her friends. She mocked me in front of everyone and said, "Oh her? She's just Mr. Carter's little pet. Pretty to look at, but completely useless."

I froze the card immediately, and she got detained right there in front of everyone because she couldn't pay the bill.

When James Carter came home, he brushed it off like I was overreacting. He tapped my nose playfully and said, "Come on, babe. Why are you getting so worked up over some girl?"

Something inside me died right then, and our three-year marriage died with it.

I threw the divorce papers at him and pulled every resource he'd been living off. His company went bankrupt, and he knelt in front of me, begging through his tears, but I just stared at him coldly.

I looked down at him and said, "James Carter, you never once respected me. And now you're learning that you can't afford to lose me."

*****

The soft melody of a harp drifted through the restaurant and washed over every table.

I stirred my coffee with a spoon and listened to my best friend Chloe complain about a difficult client she'd just dealt with.

Afternoon sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting everything in lazy gold.

Then a high-pitched laugh shattered the peace. One woman squealed, "Olivia, that outfit is limited edition, isn't it? I'm so jealous—you're so young and you already have a Hermès bag!"

Another voice rang out, clear and smug. "This is nothing. Mr. Carter gave me the bag, and lunch today? My treat!"

I looked up, and my eyelid twitched.

At a nearby table, surrounded by a group of young women, sat my husband James' secretary, Olivia Lane.

She'd dressed to impress today in a pink Chanel dress, and sitting beside her was a brand-new Hermès Birkin bag. She reached into the bag, but what she pulled out wasn't her own card. It was a sleek black card that gleamed coldly under the light.

My supplementary black card.

I'd gotten that card made specifically for James so he could handle business dinners more easily. But now it sat in his secretary's hands, and she was using it to show off to her friends.

Chloe recognized the card too. She nudged my arm and whispered, "Emily, isn't that—"

I shook my head slightly and signaled for her to stay quiet.

One of the girls at Olivia's table asked curiously, "Olivia, Mr. Carter treats you so well. Doesn't his wife get jealous?"

Olivia let out a scornful laugh. Her voice wasn't loud, but in the quiet restaurant it carried perfectly.

She said dismissively, "Her? She's just a pretty little trophy wife Mr. Carter keeps at home. All she knows how to do is spend money. She's useless at everything else.

"Mr. Carter built his company from the ground up and took it public all by himself. She had nothing to do with it.

"Women like her don't understand ambition or vision. He gives her a card so she'll stay quiet and look pretty, and that's all she's good for."

"Wow, really? She sounds completely useless!"

"Exactly! Men need to rely on themselves. What's the point of marrying some empty-headed trophy wife?"

Laughter rippled around the table, and each giggle felt like a tiny needle piercing my ears.

Chloe's face went pale with anger, and she grabbed my hand, ready to stand up and confront them.

I stopped her.

My heart was strangely calm. I felt no anger and no embarrassment, just a coldness that seeped from deep inside my bones.

A trophy wife?

So that was what I was to them. I was Emily Sutton, the sole heir to Sutton Holdings, and I had hidden my identity for him, given up my career, and used every connection my family had to take his struggling startup public.

But to them, I was just a pretty decoration.

I looked at Olivia's smug, shiny face, and I wanted to laugh.

She thought she had his favor, maybe even status, but she was wrong. What she really had was James' cheapest, most pathetic way of brushing me off.

And where was this "self-made" James she kept bragging about? Probably sitting in some meeting right now, using the connections I'd introduced him to and closing deals I'd paved the way for.

Three years of marriage, and it turned out to be one giant joke.

I picked up my coffee and took a sip. The bitterness spread through me, and for the first time, I felt it all the way down to my core.

I pulled out my phone, but I didn't call James to confront him, and I didn't bother looking at Olivia.

I just calmly dialed the VIP customer service number for my black card.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Sutton. How may I assist you today?" The voice on the other end was perfectly polite.

"Hi," I said, keeping my voice completely neutral. "I need you to freeze the supplementary card ending in xxxx immediately. Permanent freeze. Thank you."

"Of course, Ms. Sutton. The freeze has been processed. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, that's all."

I hung up, set my phone back on the table, and kept listening to Chloe talk like nothing had happened.

About half an hour later, the chaotic afternoon coffee finally wrapped up. Olivia walked up to the register with her usual graceful posture, surrounded by her little fan club, and handed over the black card.

"I'll take care of the bill," she announced.

The cashier took the card and swiped it through the machine, then looked up with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, miss, but this card shows as frozen."

"What?" Olivia's voice shot up. "That's impossible! Try it again!"

The cashier swiped it one more time and shook her head apologetically.

The restaurant manager walked over to our table, and his tone was polite but firm. "Miss, your table's total comes to forty thousand dollars. If that card won't work, you'll need to find another way to pay."

Forty thousand dollars. The color drained from Olivia's face in an instant. She only made seven thousand a month. There was no way she could afford this bill.

Her friends' expressions transformed before my eyes. The admiration and envy melted into shock and contempt. Some of them started backing away and pretending they didn't know her.

One of them asked, "Olivia, what's going on?"

Another one said, "Didn't you say you were treating us?"

Olivia's composure crumbled. Her face flushed red, and she grabbed her phone, probably planning to call James for help.

I dabbed the corner of my mouth with my napkin and stood up. I turned to Chloe and said, "I'm tired. Let's go."

I walked past the front desk without sparing a glance at the figure who looked ready to cry from humiliation.

The restaurant manager spotted me and immediately bowed low. This restaurant was under Sutton Holdings.

I gave him a brief nod and walked out the door with Chloe at my side.

Behind me, Olivia's tearful begging mixed with the manager's cold, professional tone. He said, "Miss, if you can't pay your bill, we'll have to detain you per restaurant policy and contact the police."

The sun blazed overhead, but my world had already turned frozen.