Chapter 1

My husband walks his third pregnant mistress into my law firm and tells me to draft her asset transfer agreement.

His boys are taking bets behind him—how many seconds before I lose it and flip my desk.

The printer churns out a fat stack of papers. I don't say a single word.

"Yo Ethan, that's number three. Think your wife's about to snap?"

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose. His voice is low, almost bored.

"She's fragile. Can't handle childbirth."

"Once the baby comes, it goes under her name. She keeps the title. She'll always be Mrs. Ashford."

I slide the sealed agreement across the desk.

Force of habit: "This is legally binding upon signature."

Ethan takes it. There's a tiny crease between his brows—gone in a second.

Then he pushes a set of divorce papers toward me. His voice goes soft, almost gentle.

"Just sign. It doesn't mean anything."

"She's strong enough to carry the baby. Once it's born, it's yours on paper. My family backs off. Nobody brings up the infertility thing again."

"You're still Mrs. Ashford. I'm doing this for you."

He's pulled this exact stunt twice before. Twice, I played along.

This time? I sign my name without blinking.

Then I slide a diamond ring onto my left hand—a gift from the most powerful man in Manhattan.

…

Vanessa rubs her swollen belly, batting her lashes. That sugary little voice of hers fills the room.

"Ethan, babe… is Stella upset?"

"I mean, she already went and got herself a ring."

Ethan's eyes drop to my ring finger.

His jaw tightens. Something dark flickers behind his gaze.

"Stella. Enough."

"You think sticking some random rock on your finger is gonna make me change my mind?"

I slide the divorce papers right back at him.

"Signed. Tomorrow morning. Nine a.m. Courthouse."

Dead silence.

Then his whole crew cracks up.

"Girl, you've been playing hard to get for three years. You're not tired?"

"For real. The man just wants a kid that's actually his."

"You can't pop one out yourself and you won't let anybody else do it either? What kind of woman—"

Ethan rubs his temples. He's done with me.

"Stella. Stop."

"Vanessa's carrying twins. High-risk pregnancy. Doctor says she needs bed rest."

Vanessa leans into Ethan, eyes going red.

"Ethan… I don't want our babies born in some back-alley hideaway. Like they're something to be ashamed of."

She peeks up at me. Doe eyes. Trembling lip.

"Stella, your penthouse on the Upper East Side… could I maybe stay there? Just while I'm on bed rest?"

"The security's really good. And it's right near the hospital."

That penthouse is the only thing my parents left me before they died in the crash.

"That's my pre-marital property."

Vanessa flinches like I slapped her. The tears come right on cue—big, fat, rolling drops.

"Stella, please don't be mean. I'm just thinking about the babies."

"If you don't want me there, it's fine. I'll just… take the kids and go back to where I came from."

Ethan pulls her in tight. Then he turns to me. Full command mode.

"Stella. What is your problem?"

"The place is sitting empty. Move out tonight. Vanessa moves in."

I stare at his face. That face I used to love.

All I can think is—God, what a fool I was.

"Ethan. Do I need to spell it out for you?"

"It's. My. Apartment."

His expression hardens.

"Stella, it's one apartment. You'll get it back after the baby comes."

"She's pregnant. Try seeing the bigger picture for once."

One of his boys jumps in.

"Come on, Stella. Vanessa's giving the Ashford family an heir. You can't spare one lousy apartment?"

I hold Ethan's gaze.

"And if I refuse?"

He smirks. Pulls out his phone.

"Your firm's biggest client is Ashford Group. Right?"

"Stella, you're a smart woman. Don't make me do this the hard way."

He's threatening my career. The one I built from nothing. For a side piece.

I look into those cocky, certain eyes of his.

And I laugh.

"Fine. I'll move."

He blinks. Clearly didn't expect that.

A flicker of triumph. His tone goes easy.

"There we go. Play nice, and I'll take care of you. I always do."

"Head back to the estate tonight. I'll send my assistant with Vanessa tomorrow."

I stand. My gaze sweeps across every face in the room.

"I'll have it cleared out by tonight."

"Ethan—I really hope you don't regret this."

He snorts.

"Relax. Vanessa just needs a place to rest. The apartment's still yours. Don't be so dramatic."

Vanessa tips her chin up and hits me with a smug little smile.

I don't look at any of them again. I walk out and shut the door behind me.

Through it, I can still hear his boys howling.

"Nobody handles wifey like our boy Ethan!"

"Once those twins drop, that's three kids for the big man!"

Three kids?

I laugh out loud.

I hope he's still laughing like that when the truth comes out.