Chapter 1

I used to resent my mother, Eleanor.

She always had a way of smoothing things over, making you forget why you were angry.

After my father died, she pushed Isabelle Dubois at me.

Izzy. Her best friend' s daughter.

Charming, beautiful, everything a New Orleans boy was supposed to want.

I fell for it, fell for her.

We got married.

Three months later, Izzy told me she was pregnant.

I was ecstatic. The anger at Eleanor melted away. Finally, a family.

My architectural designs started taking off.

The Moreau name, once fading, was back in the spotlight.

Our firm' s net worth soared.

Eleanor and Izzy were my biggest cheerleaders, always at events, always praising my work.

New Orleans' golden boy, they called me.

I poured everything into a new city development project, a five-year vision to revive a historic district.

Leveraged heavily.

Today was the presentation.

Eleanor and Izzy were my key financial backers, my character witnesses.

They didn' t show.

My rivals, sensing weakness, tore my proposal apart.

My calls to Eleanor, to Izzy, went straight to voicemail.

My dream crumbled.

Worried, I rushed home.

An anonymous email waited. A video file.

I clicked play.

Eleanor, in a wedding dress, beaming.

She was marrying Richard Thorne.

The man whispered to have ruined my father, driven him to an early grave.

Beside them, Marcus Thorne, Richard' s son, in a groom's suit.

He held Izzy, her hand on her very pregnant belly.

A champagne toast. "To Eleanor, finding true love! And to Izzy, marrying her soulmate, Marcus!"

I heard Eleanor laugh, a sound that chilled me.

"Izzy, darling, how will you explain whose child it is? After that sham ceremony with Ethan, and now your real wedding to Marcus?"

Izzy' s voice, sweet as poison. "Marcus has lived in the shadows long enough. His child deserves a father with his name."

The baby. My baby.

Not mine.

My marriage, a fraud.

My world tilted. I felt sick.

My phone buzzed. Unknown number.

A link to an old article: Ava Chen, tech CEO, publicly stating she' d never marry, never have children, her fortune dedicated to her foundation.

Then a text: "Ethan, if you ever wanted to build a true legacy, with a child to inherit it, I would change all my plans. Our child would be the only heir I'd ever desire for everything I've built."

Ava Chen. I met her years ago, an architectural summit. She saw something in me.

What did this mean?