Chapter 1

The night my mom won her Lifetime Achievement Award, my husband's mistress crashed the party and AirDropped their sex tape to every phone in the room.

Three hundred guests. Black tie. Mom on the stage, holding her crystal trophy, crying happy tears.

Then every phone pinged at once.

Then the giant screen behind her lit up too.

Adrian's face. Adrian's hands. Adrian's voice, moaning a name that wasn't mine.

She walked in through the side doors in a white slip dress. Margot Holloway. Twenty-two. Pharma heiress. Smiling like she'd already won.

She grabbed a mic off the stage.

"Mrs. Yates." Her voice purred through the speakers. "Just divorce him already."

The room went dead silent.

"He told me I'm so much better in bed than you," she giggled. "He told me he loves me. Not you."

I heard Mom gasp. I heard the trophy shatter on the floor.

Then I heard her hit the stage.

Heart attack. Sirens. ICU. Tubes down her throat. A doctor pulling me aside, telling me to "prepare myself."

The last shred of my marriage was gone. In front of every judge, every partner, every reporter Mom had worked with for forty years.

I was the joke of Manhattan now.

The next afternoon, I booked a suite at the Mandarin Oriental and texted Margot.

I'm ready to let him go. Let's talk.

She came. Of course she came. Girls like her can't say no to a victory lap.

I poured her champagne. I picked up the remote.

"Watch this with me, sweetie. Live feed. Room right next door."

The screen flickered on.

Adrian. Sprawled on a king bed. A dozen women crawling all over him — models, escorts, whatever twenty grand buys at noon on a Tuesday.

His eyes were rolled back. His mouth was open. He was making sounds I hadn't heard in eight years of marriage.

I smiled at her.

"He looks like he's having more fun than he ever had with you, Margot. You sure you still want him?"

"Celeste, you sick fucking psycho!"

She grabbed her water glass and threw it in my face.

She was screaming. Screaming for me to stop. Screaming for someone to call the cops.

Two bodyguards stepped out from behind me.

One twisted her arms behind her back.

The other handed me a napkin and poured me a fresh glass.

I wiped my face. I picked up the glass.

I poured it slowly over the top of her head.

The water was hot. She shrieked.

"Celeste, how dare you — do you know who my father is — do you—"

The earpiece in my ear crackled.

"Ms. Vaughn. He's blacking out."

I glanced at the screen. Adrian's head had dropped sideways.

I checked my watch and clicked my tongue.

"That fast? Pathetic. Give him another shot."

A needle slid into his thigh. His eyes flew open. So did the rest of him.

A few seconds later, the moaning started again.

Margot went white as a sheet.

"You're insane. This is rape. This is a crime—"

"Strong word, baby." My voice was sweet. My eyes were not. "I'm just helping my husband take care of his needs. Since clearly you weren't getting the job done."

She flinched.

Then she broke.

"Okay — okay, I'm sorry — I shouldn't have crashed your mom's party, I shouldn't have slept with him, I'll back off, I swear — but Celeste, please, he's gonna die in there. Punish me. Don't punish him."

On the screen, the women kept moaning.

But Adrian was sobbing now. Actually sobbing. Begging.

I tilted my head.

"You really love my husband, huh, Margot."

I leaned in close.

"Don't worry. I'm a fair woman. He cheated. He pays. You? You're getting off easy."

Two hours later, the earpiece crackled again.

"Ms. Vaughn. Even the drugs aren't working anymore. We have to stop."

I called it.

I unlocked Margot's wrists myself and walked her next door.

The second I opened the door, she bolted.

She threw herself on him like he was already dead.

"Adrian — baby — talk to me — Ade, please—"

He couldn't talk. He was a shaking pile of limbs on a sweaty mattress, staring at the ceiling.

I crossed my arms.

"Margot. Sweetie. I'm still right here. Don't you think it's a little inappropriate to be that close to my husband?"

Adrian finally lifted his head. His eyes locked on mine.

Pure murder.

"Celeste." His voice was wrecked. "You crazy fucking bitch."

A pause.

"I want a divorce."

Adrian's had a lot of mistresses.

A lot of them have shown up at my door.

Every single one of them got back exactly what they gave me. I made sure of it. Always on him.

But in eight years, he's never once asked for a divorce.

"No," I said.

I looked Margot up and down. Slow. Mean.

"Adrian. Don't you forget. Five years ago, I gave you the door. You begged me to stay. You put my mother in the hospital begging me to stay. And now you wanna walk out with her?"

I laughed.

"Keep dreaming, baby."