Chapter 1

I died on the day the first snow fell.

My assistant, Chloe, later told me that when Daniel got the news, he was in a high-level meeting. His mentor, Mr. Henderson, was announcing the final candidates for the new partner position. Daniel' s name was at the top of the list.

He was just one step away from everything he had ever wanted.

The conference room door was pushed open. A junior assistant ran in, breathless, and whispered something to Daniel' s new assistant, Sophie Davis.

Sophie' s face went pale. She walked hesitantly to Daniel's side.

"Daniel," she said, her voice trembling. "The hospital just called. Olivia… she' s gone."

Chloe said the pen in Daniel' s hand snapped in two. The sharp plastic dug into his palm, but he didn' t seem to notice.

He stood up so fast his chair screeched back and toppled over. The entire room fell silent, all eyes on him.

"What did you say?" His voice was a low, dangerous growl.

Sophie flinched. "An accident… a car crash. The doctors said… they couldn't save her."

Daniel stared at her, his face a mask of disbelief. Then, he let out a sound, a raw, broken noise that was half-sob, half-scream. He shoved the heavy oak table, sending documents and laptops scattering across the floor.

Everyone, including the stern Mr. Henderson, was frozen in shock. They had only ever seen the charismatic, controlled Daniel Miller. This wild, grieving man was a stranger.

He stumbled out of the room, leaving behind a wake of chaos and stunned silence.

That was the story I was told. But I remember that day differently.

I was standing in the empty living room of our "Dream Home," the house I had designed with him, poured my soul into. The sleek, minimalist lines felt cold, like a mausoleum.

It was our fifth anniversary. He wasn't here.

"Did he say anything?" I asked Chloe, my voice flat.

Chloe, my best friend and the most loyal person I knew, clenched her fists. "His assistant, Sophie, said he has a very important dinner with a client. She said he sends his apologies."

I didn't answer. My eyes drifted to the centerpiece of the room: a detailed architectural model of the "Dream Home." It was a gift from him on our first anniversary. He had promised this would be the start of our legacy.

"Liv," Chloe said softly, putting a hand on my arm. "He' s a bastard. He' s been forgetting everything. Your birthday, the project deadlines you both shared… now this."

I knew she was right. But a part of me, a stupid, hopeful part, still clung to the memory of the man who had looked at me with such love and said, "You and I, Olivia, we're going to build worlds together."

I reached out and touched the miniature roof of the model. A fine layer of dust coated my fingertip. It hadn't been cleaned in a while. I hadn't had the heart.

Suddenly, I noticed a crack running down the tiny, handcrafted chimney. It must have happened when the movers were here. The damage was small, almost invisible, but I saw it. It felt like a symbol of everything that was breaking apart.

A loud bang from the front door made both of us jump.

The door flew open, and Daniel stormed in. He wasn't in his usual tailored suit. His tie was loose, his hair was a mess, and his eyes were wild.

He was a hurricane tearing through the quiet tomb of our home.

He looked at me, and there was no love there. Only a cold, burning rage.

"What did you do, Olivia?" he snarled.