Chapter 1

The luxury postpartum retreat called me this morning.

The concierge asked if I was satisfied with their service during the first few days of my stay.

I stood there, frozen in my kitchen.

I was only eight months pregnant.

I hadn't even given birth yet, let alone checked into a recovery suite.

I immediately confronted my husband, Caleb, who had been the one handling all the arrangements with the center.

Caleb looked at me with a face full of fake sympathy.

"Honey, that place costs a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. We could never afford that. They must have called the wrong number," he said smoothly.

"You'll just recover at home. I promise I'll take the best care of you myself."

I didn't waste another breath on him.

The owner of that retreat was my older sister, Vivienne.

I called her directly.

"Vivienne, find out who the hell Caleb Thorne checked into my suite. I'm going there to catch a rat."

1

The idea of a wrong number was a total joke.

Vivienne had contacted me the moment she found out I was pregnant.

She had reserved her most exclusive, top-tier recovery package just for me.

It was completely free―a gift for her little sister.

When the concierge called, I made sure to confirm the name on the file.

Someone was living my life, and I wasn't going to sit back and watch.

I remembered when I first mentioned wanting to stay at the retreat.

Caleb had been dead set against it.

"So many women just stay home after giving birth. Why do you have to be so high-maintenance?" he had scoffed.

But I had the resources, so why shouldn't I use them?

I grabbed my keys and hailed a cab to the Quinton Wellness Center.

I arrived within twenty minutes.

The lobby was bustling with wealthy couples inquiring about packages.

I waited until the front desk was less crowded before stepping forward.

"Hi, I'm Clara Vance. Someone called me earlier asking for a review of my stay."

The receptionist looked at me, her expression flickering with confusion.

"Mrs. Thorne? But... you're already in your suite."

My heart sank into my stomach.

The receptionist continued, oblivious to my internal rage.

"In fact, Mrs. Thorne just came down earlier to thank us for the exceptional service."

This woman was actually using my maiden name and my identity.

I grit my teeth. "I am the real Clara Vance. The one who is supposed to be here."

The receptionist looked me up and down, her gaze turning judgmental as she took in my simple maternity dress.

"Ma'am, if you can't afford our services, please don't cause a scene," she said coldly.

"The real Mrs. Thorne checked in with her husband. We might not know her personally, but we are very familiar with Mr. Thorne. He's been our point of contact for months."

I felt like I'd been slapped.

My husband was now someone else's husband in the eyes of the world.

Before I could demand to see the manager, the elevator doors slid open.

A familiar figure stepped out.

On her wrist was the vintage emerald bracelet my brother had given me.

Around her neck was the diamond pendant Vivienne had gifted me for my birthday.

She was wearing the center's signature silk robe, her hair perfectly styled.

It was Macy Reed, a lowly intern at Caleb's company.

The receptionist pointed at her. "That is Mrs. Thorne. I suggest you leave before I call security."

I didn't move. I stared Macy down, my face like stone.

Macy saw me, and her face went pale for a split second before she regained her composure.

"Clara? What a... what a surprise. Are you here for a consultation?"