Introduction

The rain lashed against my office windows, a sudden storm mirroring the chaos that erupted when Dr. Chen' s call came, breathlessly telling me, "It's David."

My husband, David, was in an accident, and when I arrived at the hospital, the world shattered-he was holding another woman's hand, looking at me with cold, polite confusion.

"Can I help you?" he asked, as she, his executive assistant, Chloe, tightened her grip on his hand, a triumphant flicker in her eyes.

He then scoffed when I told him I was his wife of ten years, declaring, "Chloe is my girlfriend," dismissing me as "crazy" when I listed our shared memories, our dog, our wedding.

He even compared being married to me to being "a piece of sensible, well-designed, but ultimately unexciting furniture," a crushing blow that twisted every cherished moment of our life into a lie.

Then, the final, undeniable proof came: a video of David and Chloe, intimate in our bed, sent by Chloe herself, a trophy of her victory, after he refused to help my ailing mother.

The last ounce of love I had for David died, replaced by a cold, sharp resolve.

I called Mark, David's estranged best friend and an investigative journalist, who had looked at me with aching worry in the wake of David's betrayal.

I was Sarah Miller, celebrated architect, and David Thompson had just made the biggest mistake of his manipulative life.

I was done being the victim.

It was time to play his game.