Chapter 1

My name is Ethan Lester. Publicly, I'm a "trophy husband," a stay-at-home dad married to the formidable Hollywood producer, Jocelyn Lind.

The world sees me as a man living off his wife's success, a gold-digger who traded his dignity for a life of luxury.

They're not entirely wrong.

My annual salary is five million dollars, with bonuses tied to Jocelyn's satisfaction with my domestic performance. Our marriage is a five-year contract, a business arrangement designed to protect her from her own family.

The contempt from her family and the public ridicule are just part of the job description. I handle it with a detached, transactional mindset because I have a secret.

I am the anonymous founder of Apex Innovations, a FinTech startup that is currently making Wall Street very, very nervous.

Tonight, that job requires me to stand in the freezing Aspen air outside Jocelyn's movie trailer, holding a thermos of homemade chicken soup. The cold bites at my skin, but I feel nothing.

Inside the trailer, I can hear Jocelyn's voice, laced with a professional charm she rarely uses with me, mixed with the flirtatious banter of her lead actor, Matthew. He's young, hot, and on the fast track to stardom, thanks to Jocelyn's new blockbuster.

The trailer door swings open, and Matthew steps out, a smug grin on his face. He looks me up and down, his eyes lingering on the thermos.

"Well, if it isn't the nanny," he says, his voice loud enough for the nearby reporters to hear. "Brought the boss her soup?"

The flash of a camera goes off nearby. I don't react.

Matthew leans in closer, his breath smelling of expensive whiskey. "She's a real tiger in there. You must have your hands full at home, huh? Tell me, does she pay you extra for... overtime?"

I remain silent, my expression unreadable. My job is to be a prop, a symbol of Jocelyn's power. Reacting would be a breach of contract.

He chuckles and walks away, basking in the attention of the paparazzi. I wait a few moments before entering the trailer.

The warmth inside is a stark contrast to the cold outside. Jocelyn is on her phone, her expression severe. She doesn't look up.

"You're late," she says, her voice sharp.

"Matthew was just leaving."

She finally looks at me, her eyes cold and appraising. "Is the soup hot?"

I nod, opening the thermos and pouring the soup into a bowl. She gestures for me to feed it to her, her attention already back on the script in her other hand. I lift the spoon to her lips, a practiced, mechanical motion.

After a few spoonfuls, she pushes the bowl away. "That's enough. You waited for forty-seven minutes in the cold. I saw the reporters."

She picks up her phone, taps a few times, and my own phone buzzes in my pocket. A notification from my bank.

Incoming Wire Transfer: $50,000.00. Memo: Hazard Pay.

"Go home," she says, dismissing me without another glance. "The kids need you."

I nod, turn, and walk out of the trailer, back into the cold and the flashing cameras. This is my life. A series of transactions. Humiliation exchanged for capital.

And every dollar is a brick in the foundation of the empire I'm building, an empire that will one day dwarf hers and bring her entire family to its knees.