Chapter 1

My love story with Everett Hayes was the envy of all of Manhattan.

To propose to me, he spent millions buying up every digital billboard across the city to play our song.

I loved roses, so he planted an entire garden of them with his own two hands.

Yet, this was the exact same man who found a replacement while I was studying in London and kept her by his side for three full years.

I did not cry, nor did I throw a scene.

Instead, I quietly erased every trace of my legal identity.

I set the date of my official death to be the exact day of our wedding.

Everett pushed the door open and stepped inside.

I had just locked my phone screen, and he immediately noticed me sitting on the cold floor.

He rushed over and scooped me into his arms like a fragile child, his eyes filled with undeniable heartache.

“Why are you sitting on the floor, baby?”

I looked closely at his face, where every single cell seemed to declare his devotion to me.

Yet I knew that just moments ago, he had come straight from Kelsey Finch’s bed.

Held against his chest, I could clearly see the faint red mark tucked beneath his collar.

I reached out and poked his cheek.

He felt real, and he looked like my Everett, but why did everything feel so rotten?

He chuckled at my touch, gazing at me with fond tenderness as he leaned down to kiss me.

I turned my head away, avoiding his lips.

Confusion flickered across his face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Everett, would you ever lie to me?”

It took a long time for my hoarse voice to break the silence.

Everett looked down, a flash of panic darting through his eyes, and his smile turned strained.

“How could I ever lie to you? Loving you is all I know.”

If this were in the past, I might have believed him.

My grip tightened around my phone. Just minutes ago, a strange number had sent me a mountain of screenshots.

The man who was always gentle, patient, and polite with me, swearing he would love me for a lifetime...

In those chats, he was dominant and possessive, telling another woman, “I won’t let you leave me.”

The man who used to stroke my hair by my bedside whenever I caught a cold, comforting me through the night...

He was pinned against another girl in those photos, kissing her recklessly with raw passion.

The message logs went all the way back three years.

Three years ago, when I left for London, Everett held my hands and swore he would wait for me.

That was the exact moment he got himself a stand-in, keeping her in the shadows for three entire years.

Something inside my chest shattered completely.

Before I asked him, a tiny part of me still hoped he would come clean. If he had told me the truth, I might have given him one last chance for the sake of our past.

Instead, Everett threw that chance away with his own hands.

After a suffocating silence, his phone buzzed.

Relieved that he no longer had to force that fake smile, he let go of me, gave me an apologetic look, and hurried to the balcony.

He moved fast, but I still caught the contact name on the screen―Wildcat―and the phone number starting with 194, the exact same one that had messaged me.

Everett used to take even the most confidential business calls right in front of me, saying he wanted to give me complete security.

Now, my chest ached with every beat.

When he stepped back inside, I caught the sharp smell of cigarette smoke.

I hated smoke, so Everett had never smoked around me, keeping his habit strictly under wraps even at home.

Because of that one phone call, he could not even hold back from lighting up inside the apartment.

Everett grabbed his coat in a hurry and threw me an apologetic glance.

“Sweetheart, something urgent came up at the office. Go to sleep first, okay?”

I stared at his back as he turned the doorknob. “Can’t you stay with me tonight?”

He froze for a second before tossing a reply over his shoulder. “Next time, baby. I promise.”

Moments later, my phone pinged with a new message.

It was a photo from her, showing Everett holding a lit cigarette between his fingers.

“He is always restrained in front of you. Only with me can he truly be himself. Face it, Rosalie―I’m a much better match for him than you ever were.”