Chapter 1 - TWENTY
By the twentieth strike, I had stopped counting the pain.
I was counting seconds.
Seconds until my husband made the biggest mistake of his life.
“Look at her,” Vanessa said with a soft laugh. “She still thinks she belongs here.”
I was on my knees beneath the crystal chandelier in the entrance hall of the mansion I had helped pay for.
My palms pressed against cold marble.
My back burned.
A thin line of blood touched the corner of my mouth where I had bitten my lip to keep from screaming.
And Adrian Vale, the man who had promised to love me until death, stood three feet away holding the riding crop like he had every right in the world to punish his wife.
“Apologize,” he said.
I lifted my head.
“To her?”
Vanessa smiled.
Her champagne-colored dress shimmered beneath the chandelier.
She looked comfortable.
Too comfortable.
Like she had already measured the curtains for the bedroom she planned to steal.
“You embarrassed her in front of my board,” Adrian said.
“She told them I couldn't give you children.”
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
“I said people were wondering why there was no heir.”
“You called me useless.”
“I called the situation unfortunate.”
“You told them Adrian should find a woman who could give him a real family.”
Adrian tightened his jaw.
“Enough.”
I stared at him.
Three years of marriage.
Three years of smiling beside him while he climbed higher.
Three years of introducing him to people he thought had simply become interested in his company.
Three years of quietly fixing problems he never knew existed.
And this was what I had become.
A woman kneeling in her own foyer while his mistress watched.
“You believe her?” I whispered.
Adrian gave me a cold smile.
“I believe results.”
Those words landed harder than anything else.
Vanessa stepped closer.
“Tell her.”
I looked between them.
“Tell me what?”
Adrian reached toward the console table.
He picked up a thick folder.
Then he threw it at my knees.
Divorce papers slid across the marble.
I stared at them.
For several seconds, I couldn't breathe.
“You're divorcing me?”
“I’m done carrying dead weight.”
Vanessa slowly placed one hand over her stomach.
Then she smiled.
“There’s more.”
I looked at Adrian.
He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed.
“Vanessa is pregnant.”
The grandfather clock at the end of the hall seemed suddenly deafening.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
I looked at her flat stomach.
“How far along?”
“Seven weeks,” Vanessa said proudly.
Seven weeks.
Adrian had spent seven weeks coming home late, showering before touching me, and telling me I was paranoid.
I laughed.
I couldn't help it.
Adrian frowned.
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing.”
I reached toward my phone several feet away.
He watched me crawl for it.
Then he laughed.
“Calling the police?”
“No.”
“A lawyer?”
“No.”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“Who exactly do you think is going to save you?”
I picked up my phone.
My fingers were shaking.
But my voice wasn't.
“My father.”
Adrian snorted.
“The retired businessman overseas?”
I searched my contacts.
“You never asked what kind of businessman.”
That made him pause.
I pressed CALL.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then a familiar voice answered.
“Sweetheart?”
My throat closed.
“Dad.”
Silence.
My father knew me too well.
His voice changed immediately.
“What happened?”
I looked directly at Adrian.
“He chose her.”
My father said nothing.
“He hurt me.”
More silence.
This time colder.
“And he wants me to sign divorce papers tonight.”
My father took one slow breath.
“Do you remember what I told you before your wedding?”
“Yes.”
“Say it clearly.”
I closed my eyes.
Then opened them.
“Destroy his life.”
Adrian laughed.
Vanessa laughed with him.
My father didn't.
“Are you certain?”
“Completely.”
“Then don't sign anything. Don't leave the property. And whatever happens next, let him watch.”
The call ended.
Vanessa gave a theatrical shiver.
“Terrifying.”
Adrian tossed the crop onto the table.
“Your father has five minutes before I have security escort you out.”
I looked at the grandfather clock.
One minute.
Nothing.
Two minutes.
Nothing.
At three minutes, Adrian smirked.
At four minutes and thirty-eight seconds, his phone rang.
Then Vanessa's.
Then the tablet on the console began flashing.
Adrian answered.
“What?”
His expression changed.
“What do you mean the credit facility was suspended?”
Another call came through.
Then another.
He switched lines.
“No. Don't freeze anything. Do you know who you're talking to?”
His face went pale.
Vanessa stopped smiling.
“Adrian?”
He ignored her.
“The lenders did what?”
My phone buzzed.
A message from Dad.
Six words.
EVERYTHING IS SECURED. NOW TELL HIM.
Adrian slowly lowered his phone.
He stared at me.
Not like his wife.
Like a man staring at a bomb after hearing the first click.
“Who,” he whispered, “is your father?”
I smiled.
Before I could answer, headlights swept across the front windows.
May you like
Three black SUVs stopped outside our mansion.
And Adrian's front gate opened for men he had never invited.
