Chapter 1

Everyone in New York knew Olivia Beaumont.

She was the CEO of Beaumont Holdings.

A luxury empire.

Real estate. Hotels.

Her family built it.

And everyone knew Olivia Beaumont lived for Ethan Miller.

Me.

She chased me hard in college.

I was an architect.

Or I wanted to be.

I had dreams.

But I became her world.

Her love was a storm.

Powerful.

Possessive.

And that love, tangled with her power, brought three betrayals.

They broke me.

It started at a charity auction.

A tense night.

Olivia was sharp, impatient.

I had just lost a small architectural competition.

A local library design.

She mentioned it. Loudly.

In front of her friends.

"Ethan's little hobby didn't quite make it."

Her laugh was brittle.

I felt small.

Later, at our Hamptons estate, the house was quiet.

Too quiet.

I found her.

Not alone.

With Caleb Thorne.

A musician. Charismatic. Troubled.

Olivia had "discovered" him.

Her new project.

They were close. Too close.

On the couch. Her dress hiked up. His hand on her thigh.

She looked flushed. Guilty.

Olivia jumped up.

"Ethan! It's not what it looks like."

Her voice was high, panicked.

She said she was upset.

About the auction. About me being down.

"I had too much wine, darling."

She clutched my arm.

"Caleb was just being supportive."

Her eyes were wide, pleading.

"Things just got... confused."

Caleb stood there. Smirking.

Or maybe I imagined it.

My world tilted.

I felt sick.

Shattered. That was the word.

Like glass dropped on a stone floor.

Olivia launched her apology.

It was a campaign.

Public. Grand.

She dedicated a new wing of the Beaumont Tower.

To a design inspired by my early work.

My college sketches.

She said it in a press conference.

"A tribute to the inspiration Ethan Miller provides."

It felt like a brand.

Not an apology.

She sent Caleb away.

An "artistic retreat" to Italy.

All expenses paid by Beaumont Holdings.

I was worn down.

I still loved her.

Or the idea of her.

The Olivia who chased me.

Reluctantly, I said, "Okay."

I forgave her.

But something inside me shifted.

Quietly, I started a new folder on my laptop.

"Private Designs."

A small act.

Just for me.

Reclaiming a piece of myself.

Months passed.

A fragile peace settled.

Then Olivia told me she was pregnant.

Caleb was back too.

He'd returned from Italy a few weeks earlier.

A constant presence now.

He spoke of a "deep spiritual connection" with Olivia.

Formed in Italy.

After she suffered a "minor riding accident."

He claimed he "nursed her back to health."

His eyes were too sincere.

Olivia looked away when he said it.

She confessed one night.

Tears streamed down her face.

The child wasn't mine.

It was Caleb's.

Her story tumbled out.

A desperate moment in Italy.

Seeking comfort after her accident.

Compounded by her grandmother, Eleanor Beaumont.

Immense pressure for an heir.

Eleanor, Olivia claimed, even suggested Caleb.

A "discreet solution."

If I wasn't "providing."

Her words. Eleanor's words.

They stung.

Olivia begged me to stay.

"Please, Ethan. Don't leave me."

She promised the child would be raised by nannies.

At a remote Beaumont property.

Far away.

Caleb would get a settlement.

He would "disappear" after the birth.

"It' s for the family, Ethan."

She cried harder.

"For us to survive Eleanor' s pressure."

"She'll destroy us if there's a scandal."

"She wants an heir, any Beaumont heir."

I looked at her.

The powerful CEO.

Reduced to this.

Or was this another performance?

I didn't know anymore.

I moved into the guesthouse.

A small stone building at the edge of the estate.

Emotionally, I was miles away.

But legally, still married.

A ghost in my own life.

I poured myself into my secret work.

My designs.

My escape.

I even secured a small commission.

An independent coffee shop renovation.

It felt real. Mine.

Then came the legacy auction.

A fundraiser for the Architects Guild.

A rare item was listed.

A signed first edition of a manifesto.

Written by my late mentor.

Professor Armitage.

He was a legend.

His words shaped my dreams.

The book was priceless to me.

I had a small fund saved.

From my coffee shop commission.

I planned to bid.

Olivia knew how much it meant.

I' d told her stories about Armitage for years.

The bidding started.

I raised my paddle.

Then another paddle went up.

Olivia.

She smiled at me.

A strange, tight smile.

She kept bidding. Higher. Higher.

Against me.

She won it.

Of course.

I felt a familiar coldness creep in.

She walked over to Caleb.

Who was, of course, there.

Her guest.

She presented the book to him.

In front of everyone.

"A little something for your artistic inspiration, Caleb."

Her voice was bright.

Caleb beamed. He kissed her cheek.

The room applauded politely.

Public.

Humiliating.

That was the final cut.

The absolute end.

My heart, already broken, seemed to just stop.

I decided then.

I was done.