Chapter 1

Prologue

Five years of marriage, and I foolishly believed that if I was obedient enough, I could thaw Julian Sterling’s frozen heart.

It wasn't until I opened his locked drawer that I realized our entire marriage had been a calculated lie from day one.

He married me only to swallow my father's manufacturing business and use me as a human shield to cover up his sick affair with his foster sister, Mallory Kane.

What shattered me completely was finding out he plotted with his best friend to drug me—intending to put me in another man’s bed.

Only this time, I didn't take it lying down.

I secretly recorded their crimes, hired a lawyer, and began laying the trap.

Just wait, Julian.

When I tear off your mask and leave you with nothing, I want to see what you'll have left to look down on me with.

Clara's POV

Everyone in high society whispered that I was the most obedient pet bird Julian Sterling kept in his gilded cage.

For five years, I stayed quiet and gentle, never once showing jealousy as Julian spoiled his foster sister, Mallory, to the high heavens.

Even on the midnight of our fifth wedding anniversary.

I stood by the stove, keeping track of the minutes, making his favorite creamy mushroom soup.

At one in the morning, the front door clicked open.

Julian walked in, reeking of heavy bourbon.

His designer suit was drenched in the sweet scent of Mallory’s signature perfume.

I walked up with the hot bowl. "Julian, drink some hot soup."

Julian had his head tilted down, eyes glued to his phone, a smirk dancing on his lips.

Hearing my voice, he swung his arm in irritation.

"Smash!"

The scalding bowl crashed across the floor.

Boiling soup splashed all over my bare feet.

Pain flared instantly as red, angry blisters bubbled across my skin.

I gasped through clenched teeth and dropped down to pick up the shattered pieces.

Julian didn't spare me a single glance. He grabbed his car keys and turned on his heel.

"Mallory had too much to drink at the club. Her stomach's killing her. I’m going to pick her up."

A sharp shard sliced right into my fingertips. Blood dripped into the greasy broth.

I spoke softly, "Julian, your stomach isn't great either."

Julian paused mid-stride, his voice dropping into cold indifference:

"She's young. It's dangerous for her out there alone. Go to sleep. Don't wait up."

The heavy front door slammed shut, sending vibrations humming through the empty hallway.

I stayed on my knees, slowly wiping away the blood and soup with a rag.

While cleaning the study, my eye caught a brass spare key left at the corner of the mahogany desk.

I walked over and slid it into the bottom drawer.

The lock popped.

Inside sat a stack of glossy photos and a black leather journal.

In the pictures, Julian had his arms wrapped around Mallory's waist from behind, resting his chin on her head, smiling with an abandon he had never shown around me.

In a penthouse suite, Mallory was draped in his crisp white shirt, straddling his lap as they kissed passionately.

That was a look I hadn't received in five whole years.

A chilling frost crawled down my spine. I opened the black journal.

The first page read:

"Clara Vance is soft and spineless. She comes from an ordinary family, making her the perfect public shield."

"As long as she plays the obedient Sterling wife to satisfy my family, no one will ever look twice at what Mallory and I do in private."

The second page:

"I’ve secured the Vance family's manufacturing plant. Cut off their supply lines, stole their clients. Clara won't dare step out of line once we're married."

The third page:

"As soon as Mallory’s background is cleaned up, I’ll file the divorce papers and kick Clara out."

Every single word was penned in Julian's familiar handwriting.

I pressed a hand hard against my chest, the agony turning my vision pitch black.

So that charity gala five years ago wasn't a fated encounter.

My father’s business tanking wasn't bad luck.

He had orchestrated the entire death trap, only to descend from the sky like a savior to make me his wife.

Five years of devotion was nothing but a cold, malicious calculation.

The study door suddenly flew open.

Julian stood in the doorway, back to grab forgotten documents, his tone dripping with annoyance.

"Clara? Sitting in the dark? What the hell are you doing?"

I bit the tip of my tongue hard.

The sharp pain snapped me back to reality.

Slowly, I pushed the journal back into the hidden compartment and turned the lock.

By the time I stood up, my face was entirely wiped of emotion.

"I was looking for an old recipe book and accidentally knocked the key down."

I held out the brass key, my voice chillingly calm. "I was just heading downstairs."

Julian swept a dismissive glance over the drawer, snatched the key, and muttered:

"Mallory is sleeping in the guest room tonight. Don't make anything greasy tomorrow morning. Whip up something light for her."