Chapter 3

Monday morning came. No call from Vicky' s lawyer.

Just silence.

I waited until ten, then called Vicky' s office line, the one she rarely used for personal calls.

A man' s voice answered, smooth, confident.

"Victoria Sterling' s office, Dylan Hayes speaking. How can I help you?"

Dylan.

My blood ran cold, then hot.

"This is Ethan," I said, my voice tight. "Ethan Sterling. I need to speak to my wife."

A slight pause. "Ah, Ethan. Vicky's in a meeting. Can I take a message?"

"No," I said. "I'm coming down there."

I hung up before he could reply.

Executive Assistant? Dylan?

Vicky' s company, "Sterling Aura," was all about eco-chic, high-end fashion. They only hired top graduates, people with MBAs from Ivy League schools.

I remembered, years ago, when I was still hoping my Master' s deferment for history wasn't permanent, I' d half-jokingly asked Vicky if there was a place for me in her growing company.

"Ethan, darling," she'd said, a patronizing little smile on her face, "you 'only' have a Bachelor's. We need people with specific qualifications."

Even then, it stung. My deferred Master's from a prestigious university, abandoned because Liam got sick and my mom passed, didn't count.

But Dylan Hayes, her charming ex, was qualified enough to be her Executive Assistant, answering her personal line.

The hypocrisy was sickening.

I drove to her downtown office, a sleek, minimalist building that screamed money.

The lobby was cool, all glass and recycled wood.

The receptionist, a young woman I vaguely recognized, gave me a look. Pity, maybe.

"I'm here to see Victoria," I said.

"She's in a meeting, Mr. Sterling."

"I'll wait."

I didn't have to wait long. The elevator doors opened, and Vicky walked out, laughing at something Dylan, beside her, had said.

He had a new desk. Not tucked away in some assistant' s corner.

It was big, expensive-looking, right next to hers. A partner's desk.

They stopped when they saw me.

Dylan' s smile faltered for a second, then returned, smoother than ever. "Ethan! Good to see you."

Vicky' s face hardened. "Ethan, what are you doing here? I told you I was busy."

"We need to talk, Vicky. Alone." I looked pointedly at Dylan.

"Dylan is my Executive Assistant, Ethan. He' s supposed to be here."

"Executive Assistant?" I couldn't keep the disbelief out of my voice. "Since when does he have any qualifications for a company like this? Last I checked, charm wasn't on the job description."

Vicky' s eyes narrowed. "He was hired through proper channels. You're overreacting."

"Overreacting?" I felt the anger rising, hot and sharp. "You publicly humiliate me, you install your old boyfriend in your office, and I'm overreacting?"

Employees were starting to stare. Whispers followed me.

Humiliation. Again. This time in her domain, where she was queen.

She was openly defending him, dismissing me.

The message was clear: Dylan was in, I was out.