Chapter 1

When I caught Troy Terry cheating in my bed for the eighth time, I didn't make a fuss.

I just handed the girl her coat and said calmly, "Go out the back door."

She shot me a nervous look and bolted out of there like her life depended on it.

Troy lounged against the headboard, watching me with a lazy indifference as he slowly smoked his cigarette.

He said, "She's new here, it's tough for her. Don't freak her out.

"She's not like you. I don't want her to feel bad.

"It's her birthday today, so I'll stay with her tonight. Won't be home."

I lowered my eyes and quietly replied, "Okay." I didn't say anything else.

After all, Troy had no idea that this girl was HIV positive.

*****

Condoms littered the floor, and the air was thick with the lingering scent of sex.

I pulled a mask over my face, threw open the window, and tried to air out the place.

I didn't spare Troy another glance.

Troy blew out a smoke ring, watching me with a curious grin. "So, no divorce drama today? Have you finally moved on?"

I kept my back to him, my fingers pausing on the windowsill before I kept pushing it open.

I said softly, "Yeah, I'm over it."

Troy snorted.

He drawled, lazily getting up and pulling on his clothes, "You should've gotten over it ages ago. In families like ours, marriage just means everyone does their own thing.

"That's how it goes. Glad you finally figured it out. It makes things less awkward for both of us."

I turned around and watched him button up his shirt in silence.

Four years into our marriage, he was still ridiculously handsome. That lazy, careless swagger in his eyes could still make any young girl fall for him in a heartbeat.

"So you're not coming back tonight?" I asked.

He said, buckling his belt and giving me a sideways glance, "Nope. Is today some special occasion or something?"

I shook my head. "Just asking."

He shrugged, picked up the watch from the nightstand, and slipped it on. It was a limited-edition Patek Philippe, a birthday present I'd given him last year.

Troy said, pausing at the door, "Oh, and by the way, we're almost out of condoms. Grab some more when you get a chance."

"Okay," I said quietly.

The door closed behind him.

I stood by the window for a while longer, watching his headlights cut through the darkness until they disappeared down the tree-lined driveway.

Then I picked up my phone and dialed a number.

I said, "He's gone. You can start cleaning now."

Five minutes later, three folks in hazmat suits walked into the room.

They moved quickly, picking up the scattered condoms, wiping down every surface with a special disinfectant, and stripping the sheets and blankets, stuffing them into sealed bags.

The middle-aged woman in charge nodded at me. "Miss Terry, it's all taken care of. You don't have to worry. There's zero risk of infection now."

I said, "Thanks. Just make sure this bedroom gets a deep clean."

"Got it," she said.

I stepped out and pulled the door shut behind me.

The hallway lights cast a soft glow over the dark floor, and on the wall hung our wedding photo.

In the picture, I was in my wedding dress, smiling shyly but brightly, while Troy had his arm around my waist, gazing at me with such tenderness.

Back then, we were inseparable, head over heels for each other.

But now, the photo was covered in bright red lipstick hearts, scrawled there by his different lovers.

Because of his affairs, I'd lost two babies, and now it was almost impossible for me to get pregnant again.

I glanced at the photo one last time, turned away, and headed downstairs.

There was a cake box sitting on the coffee table in the living room.

I grabbed a candle, stuck it into the cake, and lit it.

Troy only remembered it was that girl's birthday.

He'd forgotten, like always, that today was also our four-year wedding anniversary.

It was my birthday, too.

I watched the candle flame dance for a long time, feeling empty inside, then blew it out.

I was planning to file for divorce.

But now, I'd changed my mind.

I wanted his billions of fortune.

I wanted every penny, every bit of power he had.