Chapter 1

The heavy crystal glass felt cold in Olivia Walker' s hand.

Five years.

Today marked five years with Ethan Cole.

Her lawyer had emailed the divorce papers that morning. They sat, printed and neat, on the edge of her antique writing desk.

Walker Properties and Cole Conglomerate, a five-year merger of empires, a five-year contract of a marriage.

The term was up.

Ethan, as usual, was not here.

A crisis with Chloe, his younger stepsister, had called him away hours ago. It was always a crisis with Chloe.

Olivia walked through their silent New York townhouse.

Polite strangers, that' s what they were.

Flashbacks flickered in her mind: separate bedrooms from the first night. Scheduled public appearances, smiles fixed for cameras. Ethan' s phone always buzzing, Chloe' s name flashing on the screen, him always answering, always leaving.

Her private study was her only sanctuary.

Sketches Michael had drawn, photos of his bright, kind face, architectural plans for buildings that would never be built. Michael Vance, her fiancé, dead five years now, crushed in a building collapse he was overseeing.

His memory was the air she breathed.

Jess, her best friend, had called yesterday.

"Liv, you won' t believe this." Jess' s voice crackled with excitement from Austin. "I saw this musician, in some dive bar. Noah Evans. He' s... Liv, he' s the spitting image of Michael."

A lifeline.

With the marriage to Ethan ending, this felt like a sign, a way to keep Michael close.

Olivia knew what she would do. She had the Walker money, independence. She would go to Austin. She would find this Noah Evans.

She found Ethan in his study later that evening, tie loosened, a furrow in his brow.

Olivia placed the divorce papers on his polished desk.

"Ethan, I need you to sign these. So we can start the proceedings."

His phone rang. Chloe. Of course.

"What is it now, Chloe?" His voice was tired but instantly attentive to his stepsister.

He listened, his face tightening. A social media drama, a faked minor fender bender, another manufactured emergency.

He looked at Olivia, distracted, his mind already elsewhere.

"Just handle whatever it is, Liv." He scribbled his signature on the bottom line of the top page without a glance at the header. "I have to go."

And he was gone.

Olivia picked up the signed document. He hadn' t even read it.

She called her lawyer. "He signed. Initiate the proceedings."

Her departure was already planned. A quiet house in Austin.

She would find Noah Evans.

She would become his patron, support his music.

She would have a piece of Michael back.

It was a desperate hope, a fragile thread, but it was all she had.