Chapter 1

On our ninth wedding anniversary, I had planned everything perfectly.

On the terrace of our pre-war Upper East Side apartment, I arranged roses flown in from Monaco.

I booked a private chef from the French restaurant where we had our first date.

I wore the blush Valentino gown Sebastian once said he loved.

At 8 p.m., Sebastian still wasn't home.

At 9 p.m., I had sent him three texts. All were read, none were answered.

At 10:30 p.m., the elevator doors finally opened.

But it wasn't just Sebastian who walked out.

She stood beside him, dressed in a sharp black suit, her auburn hair loosely tied back.

She wore a strong gardenia perfume.

Serena Kane―Sebastian’s first love, now a hotshot Hollywood producer.

What broke my heart, even more, was my son, JJ.

The child I had at twenty-six, after marrying his father at twenty-two in a merger of our family fortunes.

Now seven, he was clinging tightly to Serena’s hand.

“Serena, you promised to take me to Universal Studios! When are we going?” he asked excitedly.

Sebastian saw the setup on the terrace, and his brow furrowed. “Emily, is today something special?”

“Our wedding anniversary,” I said, my voice flat.

The air went still for a few seconds.

Serena was the first to break the silence, a professional smile plastered on her face.

“Oh my god, Emily, I had no idea it was your anniversary. Sebastian only said we needed to discuss the investment terms for ‘Shadow Hunt.’ We were at the law firm until just now. JJ was home alone, so we picked him up for dinner on the way.”

Her tone was polite, distant, but her eyes screamed victory.

JJ let go of Serena’s hand and walked toward me, but he didn’t hug me.

He tilted his little face up. “Mom, Serena told me all about making movies. It’s so cool! She said I can visit the set and see the special effects. You don’t know anything about that stuff.”

In that instant, I felt something shatter inside me.

It wasn't because Sebastian forgot our anniversary.

It wasn't because he brought his ex-girlfriend home.

It was because my seven-year-old son was comparing me to another woman so casually―and I had lost.

After Sebastian quickly saw Serena out, he returned to the terrace, loosening his tie and rubbing his forehead.

“Emily, don’t overthink it. Serena is just a business partner. You know how busy I’ve been with the Rockefeller Center project…”

“Enough,” I cut him off.

I walked into the study and took the papers I had prepared from the safe. My lawyer had sent them over two weeks ago.

When I handed the divorce papers to Sebastian, he froze, his glass of whiskey hovering in mid-air.

“Emily, because of tonight? You want a divorce?”

“No.” I sat down across from him, my voice as calm as it would be in a boardroom negotiation.

“It’s because of these nine years. Because of every anniversary you missed, every ‘I’ll be home late,’ every ‘business dinner,’ and…”