Chapter 1

My best friend, Emily Davis, and I married into the powerful Thorne family on the same day. It was a grand affair, the kind of wedding that gets its own multi-page spread in society magazines. I married the CEO, Ethan Thorne, a man who commanded boardrooms with a quiet intensity. Emily married his younger brother, Liam Thorne, a famous musician whose charisma lit up every stage he was on. We thought we had it all. We were two of the luckiest women in the world.

That illusion shattered on a Tuesday afternoon.

Emily burst into the sunroom of my sprawling mansion without even knocking. Her face was pale, her hands shaking as she shoved her phone at me.

"Look at this, Sarah. Just look at it."

I took the phone. The screen showed a dozen paparazzi photos of Liam. He was walking with a woman, his arm slung casually around her shoulders. She was laughing, leaning into him with an intimacy that made my stomach clench in sympathy for my friend. The headline screamed: "Liam Thorne' s Secret Afternoon with Childhood Sweetheart, Olivia Hayes."

"Childhood sweetheart," Emily spat the words out like poison. "That' s what his mother calls her. The little saint who grew up with them. The one who can do no wrong."

I didn' t know what to say. I just pulled her into a hug. She was rigid with fury.

"I' m done, Sarah," she said, her voice trembling. "I' m divorcing him. I swear to God, I' m going to take half of everything he owns and hire a team of male models. We' ll travel the world. We' ll find a guy for every day of the week."

I tried to calm her down, suggesting she talk to Liam first, but she was inconsolable.

"What' s there to talk about? The pictures speak for themselves."

I was about to argue when my own tablet, sitting on the glass table beside us, lit up with a notification. It was a press release from Thorne Enterprises. My husband' s company. My heart started to beat a little faster.

"Thorne Enterprises Proudly Announces Olivia Hayes as the New Face of Its Lifestyle Brand."

Below the headline was a professionally shot photo of Olivia. She looked stunning, innocent, and ambitious all at once. And next to her, smiling, was my husband, Ethan.

Suddenly, all the air left my lungs. It wasn' t just a public scandal for Emily anymore. It was mine, too. Olivia wasn' t just Liam' s "childhood friend." She was a friend of the whole Thorne family, a permanent fixture I could never escape.

I thought about Ethan. About how he hadn' t touched me in a month. About how he' d forgotten our anniversary last week, sending his assistant with a diamond necklace as an apology. He was always busy, always in a meeting, always closing a deal. I was just another one of his assets, something to be managed and maintained, but not loved.

The press release was the final, hard confirmation of that fact. He didn' t even think to mention it to me. He made the woman who was a source of my best friend' s pain the face of his company.

A cold resolve settled over me, chilling me to the bone.

Emily was still ranting about her post-divorce plans, her voice filled with a mix of pain and defiance.

"Twelve models, Sarah. One for every month of the year. All of them with six-packs and great smiles."

I picked up my tablet and showed her the screen. Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. She looked from the press release to my face, and a slow, dangerous smile spread across her lips.

"Well," she said. "Looks like we' re both in the market for an upgrade."

I felt a hysterical laugh bubble up inside me.

"Okay," I said, the word tasting like freedom. "I' m in. We' re getting divorced."

I looked at Emily, a matching crazy smile on my own face.

"And I' ll find male models, too," I declared, my voice louder than I intended. "I' ll find ones who are better than Ethan."

We both started laughing, a wild, unhinged sound that was part sob, part cheer. We were imagining our new lives, our freedom, the world at our feet.

It was a beautiful, intoxicating fantasy.

"Better than me?"

The laughter died in our throats.

The voice was low and cold. It came from the doorway.

We both turned.

Ethan stood there, his suit jacket off, his tie loosened. His face was an unreadable mask, but his eyes were fixed on me, dark and intense. He must have just gotten home. He must have heard everything.