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At the company's New Year party, someone asked why my husband wasn't wearing his usual beaded bracelet. The next second, both he and his long-time crush, Harlow Mosley, flushed scarlet. Then came the vibration. The beads began to spill, one by one, from between Harlow's legs. Gasps filled the room. Harlow's face burned with shame, while Garrett Pate's eyes betrayed his guilt—and his desire. In that moment, my heart turned to ash. Everyone said a man like Garrett, a rising star with wealth and promise, would marry a woman of brilliance. Yet he chose me, a disabled nobody. I once believed he loved me. But now I knew it was all a lie. That night, I overheard him speaking with his secretary. "Mr. Pate, after Miss Mosley's malpractice killed Alisha's father, and when she hit Alisha drunk driving and left her crippled—how could you still defend her?" Garrett's voice was cold, careless. "So what if Alisha's father died? It was just a medical mishap. As for Alisha, crippled or not, I would have ruined her anyway. Keeping her around now is her good fortune." And I finally understood that the man in my bed was the true culprit behind every tragedy of my life. So I vowed to do two things. First, divorce him. Second, play along with their act until I could avenge my father and myself.