Chapter 1

Ava Miller had a life most people dreamed of, a successful interior design firm she built with her own hands, a sharp mind, and a composed way about her.

She was stylish, independent, and married to Ethan Hayes, her college sweetheart.

Ethan was a tech CEO in Silicon Valley, charismatic, driven, his company expanding fast.

Their bond felt unbreakable, built on years of shared history, Ava supporting him through every early struggle.

Ethan's father had cheated, destroyed his mother, and Ethan swore he'd never do that, a vow Ava believed.

He even drafted a prenuptial agreement, if he was unfaithful, Ava got 70% of his company shares and a lot of his personal assets, it made her feel secure.

But a shadow had appeared, Chloe Vance, a former intern at Ethan's company, young, seemingly average, but obsessed with him.

Chloe staged public scenes, like a sit-in at his office demanding to see him, she faked crises to get his attention.

Ava knew about Chloe, she dismissed her as a nuisance, Ethan had always handled such things firmly.

Ava trusted Ethan, trusted his past pain, trusted their life together.

The prenup, Ethan's idea, was just another layer of that trust, a testament to his commitment.

It was their third anniversary, Ava planned a surprise, she drove to Ethan's gleaming office tower, a small gift in her bag.

She wanted to see his face light up, a rare moment of spontaneity for them both amidst their busy lives.

The receptionist, flustered, tried to stop her, but Ava, a co-founder's wife, walked past.

She pushed open the door to Ethan's private office, and her breath caught.

Chloe Vance was there, wearing one of Ethan's expensive silk shirts, unbuttoned low, her own clothes in a heap on the floor.

She was holding Ethan's cherished Montblanc pen, a gift from Ava, running it slowly, suggestively, along her lips, then down her neck.

Chloe looked up, a smirk playing on her face.

Just then, Ethan walked in, a file in his hand.

He stopped dead, his eyes wide, first at Chloe, then at Ava.

He looked flustered, guilty.

"Ava," he stammered. "This isn't... she just showed up."

Chloe pouted, "Ethan, baby, tell her."

Ethan ignored Chloe, his face pale.

He looked at Ava, his voice strained, "Ava, can you... can you just handle this? Get her dressed, please. She's in a fragile state."

Ava stared at him, stunned.

Handle it?

A year ago, Chloe pulled a similar stunt at a hotel during his business trip, and Ethan had security remove her so fast Chloe's feet barely touched the ground.

Now, he wanted Ava to dress his half-naked, obsessed ex-intern?

His passivity was a cold shock.

Later that evening, after a strained, silent drive home, Ava saw Ethan take the Montblanc pen from his desk, the one Chloe had defiled.

He wiped it carefully with his handkerchief, then pocketed it, a small, almost unconscious gesture.

That was it.

The pen, his treasure, now tainted, yet he kept it.

Something inside Ava snapped, a cold, hard clarity replacing the shock.

The next morning, Ava went to their safe deposit box and retrieved the prenuptial agreement.