Chapter 2

Back at the sprawling, hollow villa, I collapsed onto the couch, my mind flooded with images of William and Daisy together.

William was a self-made star in the business world — he'd founded Sterling Group in his early thirties and built it into a billion-dollar empire. I, on the other hand, came from an ordinary family. When I married him, everyone said I'd won the lottery.

After the wedding, Elizabeth ordered me to quit my job.

"A Sterling wife has no business working outside or putting herself on display. Your job is to take care of Will and take care of this home."

From that point on, she scheduled every hour of my life.

She had me up at six every morning to make breakfast and iron clothes. Mornings were for cleaning the house and accompanying her to the salon. Afternoons were filled with etiquette lessons and wine tastings, or playing hostess at her social gatherings. And every evening, I had to come up with new, elaborate nutritious meals.

Elizabeth had severe OCD and mysophobia. Not a single hair could be on the carpet. Every cup handle had to face the exact same angle. One small mistake, and she'd tear me apart with her cold, cutting remarks.

"You can't even mop a floor properly. What's the point of Will bringing you home?"

"This soup tastes like plain water. Are you trying to starve us?"

I swallowed my grievances every time. Whenever I poured my heart out to William, he'd hold me gently and speak to me in that soft, soothing voice of his.

"Eve, my mom raised me on her own. It wasn't easy. She's got a difficult personality — just be patient with her. You're the only one I care about."

"Baby, you work so hard at home. Once things settle down at work, I'll take you to the Maldives."

His tenderness was the only comfort I had in that cold, hollow mansion. I believed we were in love. I believed that if I endured enough, I would eventually earn this family's acceptance.

But now I understood. William's tenderness was a lie. So was his "busy schedule."

He was out there cutting steak for another woman, while I sat alone at home, drowning in endless loneliness.

"Done crying?"

Elizabeth had changed into a loungewear set at some point. She walked toward me, a glass of red wine in hand.

I looked up. My eyes were so swollen they felt like they were about to burst. "Elizabeth, why did Will—"

"Because men are dogs at their core." Elizabeth cut me off, her voice flat and cold. "Feed them a five-star meal every day, and they'll still go sniffing around for street food. You think waiting on him hand and foot would make him grateful? Wrong. It just makes him think it's your job. Like you're some soulless housekeeper with no life of your own."

Her words hit like a blade straight to the chest.

"So what am I supposed to do? Get a divorce?" My voice was shaking.

"Divorce?" Elizabeth let out a cold laugh and looked down at me. "You walk out with nothing, and that little home-wrecker moves right into your house, spends your husband's money, and sleeps in your bed. Is that really what you want?"

I clenched my fist so hard my nails dug into my palm. It stung.

No. Absolutely not. I gave three years of my life to this marriage. Why should I be the one to step aside and make room for someone else?

"Then get up!" Elizabeth snapped. "Tears won't give a man a conscience. In this world, the only thing that can protect you is the leverage you hold in your own hands."

She walked to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a document, slapping it down on the coffee table.

"This is a share transfer agreement for five percent of Sterling Group. Sign it, and starting tomorrow, you come to the company with me."

I stared at it, stunned. "Are you... what is this?"

"I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for the family's interests." Elizabeth's gaze was sharp. "William has completely lost his mind. I'm not going to stand by and watch him let some woman destroy this company. I need you to pull him away from her — and then crush him under your heel."

I stared at the document, my heart pounding.

Then, without warning, a violent wave of nausea surged up from my stomach. I clapped a hand over my mouth and bolted to the bathroom, retching over the sink.

Elizabeth followed. She leaned against the doorframe, her eyes dropping to my stomach.

"How many days late is your period?"

My whole body went still. I counted the days. A week. I was a week late.

"Go check." She held out a pregnancy test.

Five minutes later, I was sitting on the bathroom floor, staring at two bright red lines, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe.

On the night my marriage fell apart, I found out I was pregnant.

Elizabeth stepped in and looked at the test. Her face was unreadable.

"Good," she said simply. "Now you have the strongest leverage of all."