Chapter 1

Olivia "Liv" Holloway stood by the floor-to-ceiling window.

The New York City lights spread out below.

It was their life, a glittering panorama.

Ethan Cartwright, her husband, CEO of Cartwright Industries, was the architect of this life, and she, an actual architect, had put her own blueprints on hold for him, for them.

They were the city's golden couple.

That image shattered during a corporate retreat in the Hamptons.

Ethan was found with Chloe Vance, a junior analyst.

The situation was compromising.

Ethan's explanation was smooth, too smooth.

He claimed a competitor drugged him.

Chloe, he said, had "saved" him from a worse scandal.

Liv's heart broke into a million pieces.

She looked at him, the man she loved, the man she thought she knew.

His apologies were elaborate, his promises grand.

She wanted to believe him, needed to believe him.

So, she forgave him.

The crack in their perfect facade was papered over.

The Hamptons incident was supposed to be a closed chapter.

Liv tried to move on, to rebuild the trust that had been so violently shaken.

Ethan was more attentive, more loving, for a while.

Then, months later, Chloe Vance reappeared.

She was pregnant.

She claimed Ethan was the father, from that night.

That single, terrible night.

Ethan's mother, Eleanor Cartwright, a woman who valued dynasty above all else, was ecstatic.

An heir was finally on the way.

Eleanor pressured Ethan relentlessly.

"Take responsibility, Ethan. The Cartwright legacy depends on it."

Chloe played her part perfectly.

She was the vulnerable victim, caught in circumstances beyond her control.

Tears welled in her eyes at just the right moments.

Ethan, caught between his mother's demands and Chloe's performance, turned to Liv.

"It's just temporary, Liv, I swear."

He held her hands, his eyes pleading.

"We have to appease Mother. Chloe and the child will be taken care of, generously. Then they'll disappear. It won't affect us, our life."

Liv felt a cold knot in her stomach.

This was not a temporary arrangement.

This was a new, permanent crack.

But what could she do? Argue? Scream?

She had already forgiven him once.

His words were a flimsy shield against a coming storm.

She nodded, a slow, reluctant movement.

"Okay, Ethan. To appease your mother."

The words tasted like ash in her mouth.

The Art Deco sapphire necklace was more than just jewelry.

It belonged to Liv's grandmother, a cherished heirloom, a piece of her history.

It was coming up for auction at Sotheby's.

Liv had spoken about it for years, its sentimental value immeasurable.

Ethan knew. He knew how much it meant to her.

"I'll get it for you, Liv. I promise. It's the least I can do."

His voice was sincere, his gaze steady.

For a moment, a tiny spark of hope ignited in Liv.

Maybe this was his way of truly making amends, of showing her she still mattered most.

The auction day came and went.

Liv waited, a nervous flutter in her chest.

Then she saw it.

Not on her own neck, but on Chloe Vance's.

Chloe, radiant and blooming, was showing it off at a small family gathering Eleanor had insisted upon.

The sapphires glittered coldly against Chloe's skin.

Liv felt the blood drain from her face.

She turned to Ethan, her voice a barely audible whisper.

"The necklace. You promised."

Ethan looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight.

"Chloe had a bit of an emotional breakdown, Liv. Pregnancy hormones, you know. She... she needed a significant gesture of support. Something to show her we're here for her."

He avoided her eyes.

"It's just a necklace, Liv. You're being oversensitive."

Oversensitive.

The word was a slap in the face.

Her grandmother's legacy, her cherished memory, dismissed as a trifle.

Her pain, invalidated.

This wasn't just a transgression.

This was a desecration.

The spark of hope died, leaving behind a chilling emptiness.

This was who Ethan was.

This was what she meant to him.