Chapter 1

Today was supposed to be our fifth wedding anniversary.

We were meant to celebrate it on a dinner cruise, just the two of us, surrounded by candlelight, champagne, and the sea.

I spent the morning choosing the perfect dress and making sure everything was perfect for him. But instead of staring at the sunset with my husband Xander, I found myself staring at my phone.

An anonymous video arrived minutes ago. My hands shook as I opened it, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

It was Xander—my husband—and Maureen, my best friend. Their laughter echoed through the speakers, their bodies tangled in sheets that weren’t ours. For a moment, I couldn’t even breathe. My chest felt tight, my heart hollow.

Five years. Five years of believing in love, in marriage, in him. Five years of thinking, I was building a life with someone who saw me the same way. All of it shattered with a single email.

I closed the video, placed my phone on the table, and stared at the untouched champagne. The candles flickered softly, casting light on an empty seat across from me.

And at that moment, I finally understood why Xander had canceled our anniversary dinner. He wasn’t busy with work or meetings, like he’d claimed. He was busy betraying me—with the woman I once called my sister.

That night, I didn’t sleep.

I scrolled through old photos—our wedding day, our first apartment, birthdays, vacations. Maureen was always there, smiling behind me in every shot. I’d never seen it before, but now it was all I could see—the way Xander’s eyes drifted toward her even when I was in the frame.

By morning, the pain hardened into resolve.

For the next few days, I started digging. Quietly, carefully. What I found stripped away whatever illusions I had left.

Every account I checked showed the same pattern—money transfers, expenses under my name, investments that didn’t exist. All of them traced back to a company Maureen managed. Xander’s company.

My money had funded his mistress.

The sickest part? He didn’t even hide it that well. He just never thought I’d look.

When he called that week, his voice was too smooth.

“Hey, babe,” he said. “I need a favor. Some funds for an investor dinner. I’ll pay you back, promise.”

I stared at the screen, my nails biting into my palm. “You said that last week, Xander. What happened to that money?”

There was a pause. Then his tone changed—light, playful, the way he always talked when he was lying. “This one’s different. It’s a real opportunity. You’ll see once it works out.”

“Fine,” I said tightly. “But this is the last time.”

He laughed softly. “You’re the best, babe. Love you.”

He hung up before I could answer.

I knew he wasn’t going to any dinner. I knew Maureen was probably the “opportunity” he was talking about.

What I didn’t know then was the real reason he always needed my money.

Colton Smith—Xander’s father—had cut him off completely after his last failed investment. No inheritance, no financial support, nothing. And rather than work for anything, Xander used me. My name. My accounts. My trust.

And when I finally reached my breaking point and decided to file for divorce, the universe found a new way to humiliate me.

I went to the registrar’s office to request a copy of our marriage certificate.

The clerk, a young woman with kind eyes, frowned at her screen. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s no record of your marriage to Mr. Xander Smith.”

I blinked, confused. “That can’t be right. We had a church wedding. The documents were filed.”

She hesitated, typing again. “Ma’am, Mr. Smith is married—but not to you.”

My mouth went dry. “What do you mean?”

She turned the monitor slightly, her voice gentle. “According to our records, he’s legally married to a woman named Maureen Reyes.”

The air went out of my body. My hands trembled so violently I had to grip the counter. Everything made sense now. The way she always defended him when I complained. The pity in her eyes when I said I was proud of him. The way she never missed a single anniversary dinner.

I walked out of that office feeling like a ghost. Five years of my life had been a lie—every “I love you,” every promise, every kiss.

That night, as the rain tapped against my window, I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at my reflection. The woman in the mirror looked calm, but her eyes were sharp.

I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found a number I hadn’t dialed in years.

“Hello, Mr. Colton Smith? It’s me, Caroline,” I said into the phone, my voice calm despite the tremor in my chest. “I heard you’re looking for a wife. Would you… want to marry me?”

“Miss Caroline,” Colton’s familiar voice drawled, rich and teasing, “are you out of your mind? You married my son, Xander. I’m your father-in-law.” He chuckled again, low and sarcastic. “Why are you suddenly asking me that? Did you finally realize I’m better than my son, even with the age gap?”

I closed my eyes, letting memories rush in.

Five years ago, Colton Smith was the first man who truly caught my attention. He was everything my father admired—elegant, intelligent, commanding. He carried a kind of quiet power that made people listen without needing to raise his voice. I was young then, too young maybe, but the attraction was undeniable.

But my father disapproved. Colton was his friend, after all—a man nearly fifteen years older than me. “You’re not for him,” my father had said sternly. “And he’s not for you.”

So, I let him go. But this time, I will not.

“No, Mr. Smith. I’m leaving your son because I just found out that I’m his mistress—not his wife.” My voice cracked slightly. “So, if you want to, how about you pick me up in a few days?”