Chapter 1

The key turned smoothly in the penthouse lock.

Home.

Finally.

Two years. Two long years since the explosion, since the fire, since Chad' s screams.

My back, once a roadmap of pain, was smooth. Healed.

A secret I' d guarded, through every agonizing surgery, every recovery day.

Tonight, I would show Chad. Before the engagement party next week.

A surprise. A new beginning for us.

My suitcase thumped softly on the marble floor of the foyer.

Silence.

He should be here.

"Chad?" I called, my voice a little shaky with anticipation.

No answer.

A prickle of unease.

I walked towards the master suite, my heart thumping a rhythm against my ribs.

The door was slightly ajar.

Laughter. A woman's laughter, light and unfamiliar in this space.

Izzy' s. My assistant.

"It's been three months, the doctor said it's fine, the baby will be okay."

Izzy' s voice.

My blood went cold.

Baby?

Then Chad' s voice, low, intimate. "You worry too much."

"This king-sized bed in the master suite," Izzy said, her voice playful, "you haven't used it with her, right? You said seeing her scars made you sick."

Sick.

My scars. The ones I got shielding him.

The world tilted.

Sounds followed. Soft, unmistakable sounds of intimacy.

From our bed.

My breath hitched. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

The beautiful, backless dress I' d imagined wearing for him, for this reveal, felt like a shroud in my mind.

His devotion. His care after the accident. All of it, a lie.

The man I saved. The man I loved.

Repulsed by me.

My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a sob.

No.

Not here. Not like this.

The floor felt like it was falling away.

Devastation, so total, so complete, it was a physical blow.

My phone felt heavy in my trembling hand.

My fingers, clumsy, shaking, typed out a message.

To my father.

His influence. Chad wanted my family' s influence.

Mr. Baxter Sr., Chad' s father, wanted a Morgan.

A cold, hard clarity cut through the pain.

A decision, sharp and swift.

"Mr. Baxter Sr. is expecting a Morgan to marry into his family."

I typed.

"It won't be Chad."

My thumb hovered over the send button.

Then, I added the last line.

"I'm marrying Julian."

Sent.

The confirmation chimed, a death knell for the life I thought I had.

Julian. Chad' s older brother. Kind. Principled.

He would understand duty. He would understand honor.

This wasn't about love.

This was about survival.

This was about ensuring a Baxter got a Morgan, just not the one Chad expected.

And it was about making sure Chad Baxter Jr. got nothing.