Olivia Holloway was once NYC's golden girl, an architect married to the powerful Ethan Cartwright. Our penthouse offered glittering city views, a testament to the life I'd built-or rather, the life I'd put my own dreams on hold for. We were the epitome of success.
Then the Hamptons retreat happened. Ethan was found with a junior analyst, Chloe Vance. His smooth, too-smooth explanation about being drugged dissolved months later when Chloe reappeared, pregnant, claiming the baby was his. It was a slap in the face.
His mother, Eleanor, insisted I accept the situation for the "Cartwright heir." My grandmother's cherished sapphire heirloom was casually given to Chloe. Ethan left me to drown after a yacht accident, prioritizing Chloe, then demanded I, injured, donate blood to her. Each betrayal was a fresh wound, yet he expected me to act as if nothing happened.
The public humiliation was unending, climaxing when Chloe accused me of harming her at a charity gala, and Eleanor physically slapped me. My entire life, identity, and very humanity had been consumed by their schemes. How could the man I loved destroy me so thoroughly, yet remain so oblivious to my suffering?
In that moment, something inside me shattered irrevocably, but it also awakened. I smashed Eleanor's treasured porcelain heirloom, signaling a definitive end to their control. I filed for divorce, packed a bag, and disappeared, ready to reclaim my life, my freedom, and rediscover Olivia Holloway.