Chapter 1

After getting a second chance at life, I became the "perfect Mrs. Armstrong" everyone in his circle admired.

When Keegan didn't come home, I didn't call to chase him.

When he brought his first love, Reyna, back to the villa for the night, I gave up the master bedroom without a word and even swapped in a brand-new set of silk sheets for them.

One day, Reyna splashed scalding coffee across the back of my hand while Keegan stood by and watched.

I didn't cry out. I simply wiped it clean with a tissue and even smiled, asking if she'd like another cup.

In my previous life, I didn't know any better. I tried everything to drive that woman away, checking his phone and making scenes at his company.

In return, Keegan cut off the funding chain for my father's business.

My father jumped to his death, and I was forcibly sent to a psychiatric hospital, where, in utter despair, I swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills.

This time, I only wanted money. I'd play my role as the well-behaved trophy wife, biding my time until the two-year agreement expires, so I could walk away with what's rightfully mine.

But on the day I finally signed the divorce papers, Keegan tore them to shreds.

His eyes were bloodshot as he gripped my shoulders, his voice trembling. "Karla, what do you take me for? If I dropped dead out there today, would you not even shed a single tear?"

*****

The tears and all the hurt I'd been ready to let out got stuck in my throat.

Keegan sat on the couch, his brows drawn tight. He stared at the red, scalded back of my hand, a flicker of irritation in his eyes.

If this had been before, I would've thrown myself into his arms and cried, or slapped Reyna without a second thought.

But now, I calmly tossed the dirty tissue into the trash.

Reyna bit her lip, turned to Keegan, and said in a voice so sweet it could melt butter, "Keegan, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. Ms. Yates won't be mad at me, will she?"

I cut in before Keegan could say anything. "Of course not. Ms. Goodwin, you're a guest here. It's just a cup of coffee. Getting burned is no big deal."

I glanced at the clock on the wall, keeping my tone gentle. "It's getting late. I've changed the bedding in the master bedroom to Ms. Goodwin's favorite brand.

"You two should get some rest. I'll sleep in the guest room. Just call me if you need anything."

With that, I didn't spare Keegan a single extra glance. I turned and walked straight to the guest room.

"Stop," Keegan snapped. He grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it felt like he could crush my bones. "Karla, what the hell are you up to?"

I turned to face him, keeping a flawless, professional smile on my lips. "Is there anything else you need, Mr. Armstrong?"

Keegan shot to his feet and strode right up to me.

He locked his gaze on my eyes, trying to catch even a flicker of jealousy or rage. But he was bound to be disappointed.

"Karla, are you seriously playing the saint right now?" Keegan gritted out, his voice low and tight. "Reyna just threw coffee at you, and you don't even make a fuss. You even let us have the master bedroom? What the hell is going on in your head?"

I looked at the face I once loved so desperately, and now I found it all so absurd.

"I'm just trying to figure out how to be the perfect Mrs. Armstrong for you," I said, stepping back to put some space between us. "Didn't you always complain I was too clingy, too jealous, too childish?

"Now I'm not causing trouble, I'm giving you two all the space you want, so why are you still unhappy, Mr. Armstrong?"

Keegan was completely at a loss for words. His chest heaved, fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.

Seeing this, Reyna hurried over and grabbed onto Keegan's arm. "Keegan, please don't argue with Ms. Yates. This is all on me, maybe I should just go."

Keegan shook her off, tugged at his tie irritably. "No leaving. You're staying right here tonight."

He gave me a nasty look, then pulled Reyna toward the master bedroom.

I watched them walk away, then quietly closed the guest room door behind me.

Outside, I could hear Reyna's coy, girlish voice, and Keegan deliberately making noise, as if he wanted me to hear every bit of it.

I put on my noise-canceling headphones, pulled out my phone, and opened my notes app.

I named the note "Divorce Countdown." There were still 730 days left until the two-year contract expired.

I rolled over, pulled the covers tight around me, and drifted off with a smile.

Making money was the only thing that mattered. As for the scumbag and his side chick, good luck.