Chapter 3

Lily's POV

Holden's eyes turned cold. His face showed impatience, but he still placated me.

"I was just respecting the organizers and helping them complete tonight's performance. No matter who was on that stage, I would have done the same thing."

"Lily, stop being upset with me. Today is our fifth anniversary. Let's not waste it..."

As Holden spoke, his hands began wandering restlessly over my body, his breath hot against my neck, his tone suggestive.

My heart grew colder. "Holden, you disgust me. You put the woman who destroyed my voice on that stage, gave her my flowers, and now you think a few words can brush it all aside."

Holden's movements stopped abruptly. His tone turned cold: "Lily, since when did you become so petty?"

"Fine. You want the truth? I'll tell you. Serena has depression. Her doctor said she needs the stage to build her confidence, or she'll die! Lily, you've always been kind. Are you really going to watch someone die?"

I froze.

I looked at the man in front of me as if I were looking at a complete stranger, a monster.

"She has depression?" My voice shook badly. "Holden, when my voice was destroyed and I couldn't sleep for three years, when I was losing handfuls of hair, when I was slitting my wrists, why didn't you say I might die? Now you're accusing me of not being kind enough for the sake of a criminal?"

Holden took a deep breath, suppressing his anger, trying to take my hand.

"Lily, don't be so angry. I just don't want you living in hatred forever. Aren't you fine now? You have me with you. We have a whole lifetime together."

I yanked my hand back forcefully, finding the hand that had touched Serena unbearably filthy.

"I'm tired. I want to rest." I stood up and walked upstairs without looking back.

The next morning when I came downstairs, Holden had already left for the office.

A maid was putting away the suit he'd changed out of.

I walked over. My eyes fell on the jacket pocket, where a corner of white card stock peeked out.

I don't even know why, but I reached out and pulled out the card.

It was an access card.

It had the One57 logo on it. That was New York's most exclusive luxury high-rise, with only one unit per floor. Non-residents couldn't get in at all.

Holden owned many properties, but he never stayed in them.

I gripped the card tightly, my knuckles turning white.

That afternoon, I put on sunglasses and a mask and took a cab to One57.

I swiped the card at the main entrance and took the private elevator straight to the top floor.

When the elevator doors opened, I saw a solid white oak door. I took a deep breath and used the access card to unlock it.

The lock beeped softly.

I pushed the door open. When I saw what was inside, I felt like I'd been struck by lightning.

The decoration style, the furniture layout, even the custom shoe cabinet by the entrance, everything was identical to the home Holden and I shared.

The only difference was that these walls were covered with photos of Serena.

Serena on stage. Serena on vacation at the beach. And... photos of Serena with Holden.

In the photos, Holden wore casual clothes, looking down at Serena with an expression of relaxation and affection I'd never seen!

I couldn't breathe. It felt like an invisible hand was choking my throat.

I walked step by step into the living room. On the table sat two overlapping wine glasses. On the sofa lay a carelessly tossed men's shirt.

It was the shirt Holden had worn last night.

So when he said the company had an emergency and left in the middle of the night, he'd come here.

I felt ice cold all over as I walked into the bedroom.

The bedroom layout nearly broke me completely.

The sheets were champagne-colored silk, my favorite. The vanity was covered with expensive skincare products. And the walk-in closet was hung with row after row of haute couture.

Half of them were pieces I'd admired but been told by the brands had already been purchased by a mysterious buyer.

Turns out that mysterious buyer was my husband, and these clothes were worn by the woman who destroyed me.

Click.

The sound of a lock opening suddenly came from outside.

I snapped back to attention, my heart pounding. I quickly looked around and hid in the spacious walk-in closet, peering out through the slats of the louvered door.

Footsteps grew closer.

"Holden, why did you come over so early today?" Serena's sweet voice rang out.

"I missed you." Holden's voice was low and husky, carrying obvious warmth.

The two walked into the bedroom embracing, falling onto that champagne silk bed.

I pressed my hand hard over my mouth, tears flowing uncontrollably, my body shaking violently beyond my control.

I watched my husband of five years, in this house that was a complete replica of our marital home, making love to another woman with total abandon.

Overwhelming nausea crashed over me!

Their every gasp and moan was like a sharp awl drilling viciously into my skull!