Chapter 2

I didn't sleep a wink that night.

Only one thought consumed my mind: *I'm going to destroy Carter Vance.*

At the crack of dawn, I drove straight to the hospital.

I spotted her immediately in the pediatric wing. Victoria. She was sitting on a metal chair—gorgeous, but worn down to the bone.

I walked over. The sharp click of my heels made her look up.

She stared at me, her eyes dead and emotionless, as if she had been expecting me all along.

"Are you Carter's wife?" I asked, cutting straight to the chase.

A pathetic part of me desperately hoped she’d shake her head—or at least say "ex-wife"—just to lift an ounce of the crushing guilt off my chest.

Instead, she simply gave a faint nod.

"I know who you are, Chloe Bennett. Three years ago, when I had just gotten pregnant, he started sleeping with you."

*Holy shit.*

I felt like the biggest, most pathetic clown on earth.

The epic romance I thought I had lived was built entirely on another woman's pregnancy nightmare.

"Let's talk somewhere else," I squeezed out through gritted teeth, barely keeping my composure.

In the coffee shop downstairs, I ordered an iced water. She did the same.

I braced myself for her to splash it in my face.

Instead, she just sat there, quietly studying me. Her silence made my stomach knot even tighter.

"You should divorce him," I blurted out.

She finally raised an eyebrow, a mocking smirk playing on her lips. "The side chick wants to move up? That eager to take my place?"

"You've got it all wrong," I scoffed, slamming my glass onto the table. "Carter told me he was single. Now that the truth is out, that man is dirtier than a dumpster. If you don't want him, I sure as hell don't want his leftovers!"

My blunt honesty caught her off guard. The suspicion in her eyes shifted into curiosity.

"You think I don't want out?" She let out a bitter laugh. "You flatter yourself, sweetie. The women he keeps on the side sprout like weeds. Cut one down, and another pops up. You're just the freshest cut."

Another sledgehammer to my chest.

I wasn't even the special mistress. I was just another nameless number in his rotation.

Seeing my expression—looking like I had just swallowed a live fly—Victoria's eyes softened. It was the mutual recognition between two victims.

Rage burned straight to the crown of my head.

"So you're just going to take it?" I asked.

"Carter won't let me divorce him easily. His company needs the facade of a stable, happy family to secure investors," she said, cutting right to the bone.

"So you're trapped?"

"We're both trapped," she corrected.

It hit me then.

Both of us had been played for fools by the exact same bastard.

In that instant, wife, mistress—to hell with all those stupid labels.

We were in the same boat, and our only real enemy was the monster trying to sink it.

"I'll help you," I said, locking eyes with her, speaking each word with deadly precision. "I'll help you dig up evidence, create a public scandal, and strip him down until he has nothing left. I don't want a dime. I just want him ruined."

Victoria stared at me for half a minute. Then, she opened her mouth.

"I want him bankrupt. I want him walking away with zero," she said, a wicked smirk finally bringing life back into her face. "Help me pull this off, and I'll wire you two million dollars. Deal?"

*What? Two million bucks?*

Getting sweet revenge and walking away a millionaire?

That was the best damn deal on earth.

"Deal!" I answered without a second of hesitation.

We pulled out our phones, skipped the small talk, and added each other on SnapChat.

The moment the request was accepted, I knew the game was on.

Our mission: drag the mighty Carter Vance down from his pedestal and stomp his face into the dirt.