Chapter 1

It was our seventh anniversary, Valentine's Day, and the Michelin-star restaurant table in New York was empty except for me.

Jake, my husband, CEO of Apex Constructors, the company I helped build, was a no-show.

Then my phone rang. It was Jake.

"Elara, get to the St. Regis, now. PR crisis."

His voice was sharp, no apology.

Before I could speak, another voice, younger, female, giggled. Chloe. His intern.

"He means our PR crisis, Mrs. Shen. Or is it still Han Jingshu to you?"

Chloe. Wen Yunyun. Barely out of college.

"Jake says you're so good at cleaning up messes. And don't worry, your dress won't clash with mine. He got us matching ones."

The line clicked dead.

My stomach didn't drop, my hands didn't shake. For years, this would have broken me. Not tonight.

A few minutes later, Jake' s assistant arrived at the restaurant, not with Jake, but with a garment bag and a luxury handbag box.

The dress inside was identical to the one Chloe wore in the paparazzi photos already flashing across gossip sites – him and Chloe, too close at some club.

The handbag, a specific designer model Chloe always talked about, was deliberately, visibly damaged. A deep scratch across the front.

"Mr. Shen's apologies, Mrs. Shen. He said you'd understand." The assistant looked away.

I looked at the ruined bag.

"His taste really is deteriorating," I said, my voice even.

I pulled out my phone. I didn't call Jake back.

I dialed Ethan Chen. Chen Yitian.

"Ethan," I said. "About that partnership offer at Summit Developments. Expanding into sustainable international urban projects. I'm in."

He was quiet for a moment. "Elara. I'm glad. Are you okay?"

"Never better," I said. "I'll be in San Francisco soon."

I hung up and finally looked at the paparazzi footage on my phone.

It wasn't just a club. It was a private party Jake threw at a Napa Valley vineyard.

A drone light show formed roses in the sky.

And there was Jake, at a grand piano, playing "our song." The song he played the night he proposed.

For Chloe.