Chapter 1

Ten years ago, I ran away on our wedding day.

My fiancé searched for me for three days and three nights, finally finding me in a hospital bed, pale as a ghost.

I broke down and told him the truth: a flare-up of my chronic genetic disease, with medical bills so high they could drown anyone.

Julian held my trembling hands, his eyes full of heartbreak. He dragged me straight to City Hall anyway, making our vows official.

"Maya, I’m going to make it. I’ll make millions, and I’ll take care of you. You’re never leaving me."

So, I stayed in care, and he came to see me every single night, rain or storm.

He rose from a broke nobody to one of the most ruthless, sought-after tech moguls in the city.

Then yesterday, my medical payments stopped.

Through the throbbing pain in my head, I suddenly realized Julian hadn't replied to my messages in an entire month.

Maybe this fairy tale was supposed to end a long time ago.

I was still reviewing a multimillion-dollar contract for Julian when the nurse came in to tell me my medical account had run dry.

Maybe it was from pulling an all-nighter, but my head was pounding with a dull ache. "How could there be no funds?"

Julian had linked his black card to my treatment bills years ago, setting up automatic transfers every month.

In ten whole years, my balance had never dropped below zero.

The nurse checked her tablet. "The payments stopped three months ago, ma’am. If your husband doesn't clear the balance soon, we won't even be able to administer your next pain blocker."

A chill crept over me. I murmured an apology, unlocked my phone, and opened my SnapChat thread with Julian.

That was when it hit me. Julian hadn't sent a single real text in a month.

Scrolling back, my daily reminders for him to eat well and stay warm were met with cold, one-word replies.

My latest message—telling him my head was splitting—was left on read.

The ringing in my ears grew louder. Grabbing my car keys, I ignored the dizziness and walked out.

My condition had been stable over the last few years, and I mostly stayed in private recovery suites. To make it easier for me to drive to corporate board meetings, I kept a car parked downstairs.

Oddly enough, my usual spot was empty.

I dialed Julian’s number. "Where’s my car?"

It took him forever to answer, though his voice sounded unusually alert. "Where are you going?"

Following a raw gut instinct, I said, "Nowhere. Just noticed it wasn't in the lot."

Julian’s breath sounded slightly ragged. "I took it in for detailing. It’ll be back tomorrow—"

Before he could finish, he let out a muffled groan. My heart jumped. "Julian? What’s wrong?"

He took a heavy breath and tried to sound casual. "Nothing, babe. Just bumped my knee against the desk."

I frowned at the faint squeaking of furniture in the background.

Julian chuckled warmly. "Did you like the flowers I sent yesterday?"

Brushing aside the prickle of unease, my expression softened. "Yeah. I loved them."

About six months ago, Julian had blown off our tenth anniversary for a "business emergency." Since then, he made it up to me by sending a fresh bouquet every single week.

We’d been together so long that even small gestures could still make my heart melt.

I told myself his three-month absence was just because he was swamped with work. I shouldn't be petty like an insecure teenager.

Wanting to surprise him, I mapped out the nearest boutique florist to pick up a bouquet for his office.

All the way there, I imagined his happy smile, feeling a warm flutter in my chest.

Until I pulled into the curb and saw my license plate.

The smile froze on my lips.

I walked up to the sleek sedan. The exact car Julian claimed was at the auto shop.

I looked up at the pastel awning of the flower shop.

The very shop that had delivered fresh blooms to my bedside table for the past six months.

My mind spinning, I pushed open the glass door.

Soft footsteps echoed from the stairs, and two figures came into view.

At a glance, I recognized the man. My husband, Julian.

A pretty young woman was casually adjusting his silk tie, pouting. "What kind of client is she anyway? So clingy! Demanding you come pick her up from the hospital!"

Julian stroked her hair tenderly. "She’s a decade-old account. I have to keep up appearances, sweet girl."

The girl whined, swaying his arm playfully. "Who’s your real baby, huh? My hands hurt so much wrapping custom bouquets for her every single week!"

Julian looked down at her with pure adoration, bringing her fingertips to his lips. "She’s nobody. You’re my queen."

The girl giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck, whispering that the peppermint-flavored ones from last night felt weird and she preferred the strawberry ones.

I leaned against the hallway arch, every filthy whisper driving straight into my skull, slicing my heart to ribbons.

Like a hollow ghost, I walked out of the store and stopped in front of the passenger side of my car.

Two overlapping, smeared handprints were plastered against the steamed window.

Trembling, I pulled the door open.

A pair of torn black lace stockings lay crumpled on the leather seat.

"Maya?"

The sharp voice made me turn. My eyes locked onto Julian’s.

Panic flashed across his face. He rushed over, shoved me roughly into the passenger seat, slammed the door, and hit the gas.

Watching his white knuckles on the steering wheel, I let out a dry laugh. "Scared she’ll see us?"

Julian’s grip tightened. The wedding band on his left ring finger was long gone. "Maya, I can explain."

He swore up and down that the girl was just Vivian, a casual friend. He claimed he’d had too much to drink after an investor dinner and crashed upstairs at her shop.

I stared at him. "Does your little florist know that the clingy client you complained about is the wife who built your empire with you for ten damn years?"

Julian swerved down a quiet side alley, slammed on the brakes, and turned on me, his face twisting in annoyance. "Were you eavesdropping on us?!"

I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed the torn stockings and threw them directly into his face.

"You’re mad that I heard you, but you’re not mad at yourself for cheating?!"

"Twenty minutes ago, when I was on the phone with you, what the hell were you doing in that car?!"

Julian took a ragged breath, forcing his voice to level out.

"Maya, let’s not make this ugly."

"Every CEO in this city has something on the side. Can’t you just turn a blind eye?"

I looked at him, completely hollowed out.

Even now, he wouldn't apologize. He had no intention of ending things with her.

"No," I whispered. "I won't."

Julian pressed his lips into a tight line. "Fine. I’ll make sure you never see her face again. Happy?"

My gaze was ice. "I said no."

Julian snapped, pointing an aggressive finger in my face.

"I’m a man, Maya! I have physical needs! You can’t satisfy me, so what, I’m supposed to live like a monk?!"

"I hid her away just to protect your precious pride! How else have I wronged you?!"

"It’s been ten years! Thanks to your damn illness, I have no kids, and my wife is basically a hospital decoration! Stop being so damn selfish!"