Chapter 1

The crisp legal document felt cold in Amelia' s hands. It was their prenuptial agreement, signed five years ago in a lawyer' s stuffy office. Back then, it felt like a formality, a strange but necessary piece of paper for two successful people in love. David had laughed it off, saying, "It' s just to prove I' m marrying you for you, not for some future empire."

She traced the key clause with her finger. In the event of infidelity on the part of David Miller, all marital assets, including those held in his name, will be transferred to Amelia Hayes.

At the time, she had felt a pang of guilt for even having the clause drafted. Now, it was her only life raft. A cold smile touched her lips. He had signed his own death warrant.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her from the memory. It was the event planner.

"Amelia, darling! Just confirming the final details for your big birthday bash. David is pulling out all the stops. A grand ballroom, a five-course meal, he even wants a string quartet. He' s telling everyone it' s the surprise party of the year for you."

Amelia' s voice was smooth, betraying none of the ice in her veins. "It will be, Eleanor. A surprise for everyone. Make sure the large projection screens are set up exactly as I requested. The main one right behind the stage."

"Of course. David said you might have a little 'thank you' video to play. So sweet," Eleanor gushed.

"Something like that," Amelia said, ending the call. Oh, it was a video, alright. But it wasn' t a thank you. It was a goodbye.

The sound of a key in the lock made her heart beat a little faster. She quickly folded the prenup and tucked it away. David walked in, his architect' s portfolio under his arm, a charming smile plastered on his face. He was handsome, successful, and a complete fraud.

"Hey, babe," he said, dropping a kiss on her cheek. It felt like a brand. "Smells amazing in here. My wife, the best pastry chef in the city."

He pulled her into a hug, his phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out, snapping a quick selfie of them, her head resting on his shoulder. Within seconds, it was on his Instagram. The caption read: Home to my beautiful, talented wife. Counting down the days until I can spoil her for her birthday. #luckiestmanalive

The comments started rolling in immediately. Couple goals! So perfect!

Amelia felt nothing. The man holding her was a stranger.

She remembered their wedding day. They had written their own vows. He had stood before her, his eyes full of what she thought were sincere tears, and promised her forever. "You are my foundation, Amelia. My home. I will never betray your trust."

Lies. All of it.

The truth had come to her in the most mundane way. She had been driving his car a few weeks ago. His phone, which he' d forgotten on the passenger seat, connected automatically to the car' s Bluetooth. A notification popped up on the dashboard screen: New Voicemail from Sarah.

Curiosity, a vile, sickening feeling, had made her press play.

Sarah' s voice filled the car, a breathy, intimate whisper. "David, darling, I' m still thinking about last night. You have no idea how good it feels to be in your arms again. I can' t wait until you' re finally free of her. She doesn' t deserve you. I do." There was a pause, then a soft, suggestive laugh. "Hurry up and get rid of her. I' m waiting."

The world had tilted on its axis. Amelia had to pull over, her hands shaking so badly she couldn't grip the steering wheel.

Later that night, while he slept, she found the proof she didn' t even know she was looking for. Tucked into the inner pocket of his suit jacket from his last "business trip" was a single, Chanel pearl earring. It wasn' t hers. And the collar of his shirt held the faint, sweet scent of a perfume she didn' t own. It was a scent of betrayal.

The final piece of the puzzle clicked into place just a few days ago. He was texting, a secretive smile on his face. She glanced over his shoulder as he set the phone down. A message from a contact named "S-Work" glowed on the screen. The plans are almost ready. Our new life is so close. Below it, a picture of a house blueprint. Their future home. Not hers and David' s. His and Sarah' s.

Amelia looked at him now, still smiling for his online audience, and felt a chilling calm settle over her. He thought he was in control. He thought he was planning her a birthday surprise. He had no idea she was the one pulling the strings, orchestrating not a party, but a spectacular, public execution of his life.