Chapter 3

My best friend worked with stunning efficiency.

In less than a day, an encrypted file landed in my inbox.

"Shocked the hell out of me. The ultimate gold-digger. Suggest public shaming," her note read.

I opened the file, and its contents hit harder than I could have imagined.

James, my gentle, self-made husband, was a complete fraud.

He wasn't some poor kid who clawed his way out of nowhere.

His father had been a small-time contractor who cut corners, caused a death, and lost everything to lawsuits and loan sharks.

The money James used to clear that debt came from my parents' inheritance.

In our second year of marriage, he convinced me to invest in a "promising project." I trusted him and handed over my account passwords.

He funneled that money straight into his family's bottomless pit.

Worse, our co-founded company, Clara & James Designs, had been tampered with from the start.

Using his position, he siphoned off nearly seventy percent of the company's profits over three years through fake project invoices and forged contracts, transferring it all to an offshore account.

The account holder was his mother.

And Amelia Harper? She wasn't some chance love affair.

She was the daughter of a distant relative from James's hometown, a high school dropout who'd been handpicked by James and his mother as my "surrogate tool."

Their plan was flawless.

Once Amelia gave birth, James would file for divorce, citing my "inability to conceive" and "mental instability."

With fabricated evidence of me embezzling company funds and "proof" of my emotional breakdowns, he'd secure custody of the child and most of our assets.

I'd be left with crushing debt and a ruined reputation.

What a masterful scheme.

I stared at the forged signatures on my computer screen, my body growing cold.

The man I loved for three years had approached me with nothing but a calculated trap.

Every sweet word, every embrace, hid the most vicious intentions.

My phone rang. It was James. "Sweetheart, I've got all the ingredients for the lobster bisque. I'm prepping now to make you the best meal ever."

His voice was as warm as ever, as if we were still the perfect couple.

I swallowed the nausea rising in my stomach and purred, "You're the best, honey. I love you."

"I love you too, my Clara."

I hung up, packaged all the evidence, and sent it to my lawyer.

Then I slipped into the red dress James loved most and applied flawless makeup.

Tonight's banquet was mine to command.