Chapter 1

Olivia touched her phone screen. Her lawyer' s name, Mr. Harrison, was lit up.

"The papers are ready, Olivia," he said. His voice was calm, professional. "Just like we discussed. The three-year agreement concludes next week."

"Thank you, Mr. Harrison," Olivia replied. Her voice was steady. "I'll come by to sign them tomorrow morning."

A quiet click, and the call ended.

Three years.

Almost three years.

She remembered the wedding day. Ethan Prescott, heir to the Prescott media empire, had stood beside her. He didn't smile. Not at her, anyway.

He had handed her the contract right after the vows, in the limousine.

"Three years, Olivia," he'd said, his voice cold. "Secure my CEO position. Then we divorce. I marry Chloe."

Chloe Vance. The struggling actress he loved. The woman his mother, Eleanor Prescott, hated.

Olivia had loved Ethan since their university days. A foolish, hopeful love. She signed, tears blurring the ink. She thought her devotion could change his heart.

It hadn't.

She walked into the kitchen. Ethan' s breakfast. Black coffee, two sugars. Whole wheat toast, lightly buttered. Exactly how he liked it. She' d learned all his preferences, managed their grand New England home perfectly.

He entered, already on his phone.

"The charity gala is tonight," he said, not looking up. "Be ready by seven."

"I'm not going, Ethan," Olivia said.

He finally looked at her. A flicker of annoyance. "What? Why not?"

"I have other plans."

His eyes narrowed. "Is this about Chloe? Are you jealous she' ll be there?"

Pain, sharp and familiar, tightened her chest. He always assumed the worst of her, always saw Chloe as the victim.

Chloe hadn't been there when they married. She had "disappeared" a month before, leaving Ethan frantic. He searched, he drank, his moods dark and unpredictable.

One night, heavy with alcohol, he had come to Olivia' s room. He touched her face, his fingers tracing her lips.

"Chloe," he'd whispered, pulling her close. "You came back to me."

He made love to her that night, calling Chloe' s name. Olivia had cried silently, her heart breaking into smaller, sharper pieces.

After that, she tried harder. Cooked his favorite meals, gave him massages when he was stressed, stayed quiet and agreeable.

Sometimes, he showed small kindnesses. A thank you for a well-organized dinner party. Medicine when she had a cold. His arm around her waist at a public event.

Each small gesture was a spark of hope. She fanned it, naively believing it could grow into a flame.

Then, six months ago, Chloe returned.

Ethan' s car had raced out of the driveway the moment he heard her voice on the phone. Olivia watched it go, her fragile hope shattering like glass.

The dream was over. She knew it then. It was time to wake up.

Suddenly, Ethan' s phone rang again. His face changed, softened.

"Chloe? What's wrong?" He listened, his brow furrowed with concern. "Her mother? Oh my God. I'll be right there."

He hung up, grabbing his keys.

"Chloe's mother collapsed," he said, already moving towards the door. "It's serious."

He didn't look at Olivia. He didn't ask if she was okay.

As he rushed past, his shoulder knocked a vase from a side table. It crashed to the floor, porcelain shattering. Olivia flinched, a piece striking her hand.

He didn't notice. He was gone.

Blood welled from a small cut on her hand. She stared at it, then at the broken vase.

Her phone rang. It was Ethan' s assistant.

"Mrs. Prescott, Mr. Prescott asked me to call. You need to come to City General Hospital. It's about Ms. Vance's mother."

Obligation. Dread. She pressed a napkin to her bleeding hand.

At the hospital, the corridor smelled of antiseptic.

She saw them before they saw her. Ethan held Chloe in his arms. Chloe was crying, her face buried in his chest. He stroked her hair, murmuring words of comfort.

They looked like a couple, bound by love and crisis. Olivia felt like an intruder.

Breathing became difficult.

Ethan finally saw her. His expression was grim.

"Olivia. Good, you're here." He gently detached himself from Chloe.

"Chloe's mother needs an experimental treatment," he said, his voice flat. "It's expensive. Very expensive. The funds need to come from our joint marital assets. I need your signature."

He held out a document and a pen.

Her money. Her family' s dwindling fortune, tied up with his vast wealth. For Chloe' s mother.

She looked at Chloe, who offered a watery, grateful smile.

Olivia signed. Her hand throbbed.

As Ethan turned to rush back to Chloe, Olivia spoke, her voice barely a whisper.

"Ethan, be careful with this. It's experimental. There are risks."

He didn't stop. He didn't look back. He didn't hear her.

Tears welled in Olivia' s eyes. He truly loved Chloe. He would move mountains for her.

For Olivia, he wouldn't even turn his head.

The cut on her hand stung. The pain was a dull echo of the ache in her heart.