Chapter 1: Framed

"Miss, I need you to leave. Now. Or I'm calling security."

The receptionist's voice was polished, but her eyes dripped with contempt.

Wendy Miller tightened her grip on the thermos bag in her hands. She and Nathan Hale had been married in secret for three years. Not a single soul outside knew she existed she'd never once set foot in his office to find him.

She was only here today because Grandpa Hale had asked her to bring Nathan his lunch, and she couldn't say no to the one person in that family who had ever been kind to her.

Nobody else in the Hale family wanted her there. She knew that. She just hadn't expected the lobby itself to reject her.

When Wendy didn't move, the receptionist let out a short, mocking laugh. "You're still standing there? Don't tell me you're about to claim you're the president's wife."

Wendy opened her mouth, but the woman cut her off, eyes raking over her outfit. "Take a good look at yourself first. Should I call an ambulance for your delusions instead?"

Heat crawled up Wendy's neck. She dropped her gaze and that was when someone shoved her from behind. She stumbled, catching her hip hard on the corner of a desk. She bit down on the pain and said nothing.

"Annie, afternoon." A new voice, warm and familiar, cut through the lobby. "Was the cake I sent yesterday any good?"

Annie's whole posture melted into flattery. "Miss Reed! Of course you always know exactly what to bring."

Wendy looked up. Golden curls, a skirt that cost more than Wendy's monthly grocery budget Cassidy Reed.

She turned on her heel immediately, heading for the exit.

But Cassidy had already spotted her. "Who's that?" she asked Annie, amused.

"Some delusional nobody," Annie sneered. "Convinced she has business with Mr. Hale. Doesn't know her place."

"Oh?" Cassidy's interest sharpened. "Hold on a second."

She crossed the lobby in a few quick strides and fell into step just behind Wendy. "You know, you remind me of someone I used to feel sorry for"

She stopped talking the moment she got a proper look at Wendy's face.

Nobody at Hale Corporation knew Nathan was married. Cassidy did. She and Nathan had grown up together, practically engaged by the time they were teenagers until Wendy showed up out of nowhere and ruined it.

Cassidy's surprise vanished behind a cold little smile. "Who told you that you could come here? Nathan doesn't want to see you."

Three years of marriage, and Wendy was still invisible in that household which was exactly why Cassidy never feared her. She was certain, absolutely certain, that Nathan's heart belonged to her.

Wendy tried to step around her. Cassidy blocked the path, gave her a light shove, and smiled. "If I hadn't gone abroad, you think you'd ever have gotten close to him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Wendy had no interest in this conversation.

She remembered those years too well the letters, the threats, the "accidents" that followed Cassidy's return. A dead mouse stuffed in her shoe. Boiling water that just barely missed her. Nearly everyone in the Hale household sided with Cassidy. The one person who might have protected Wendy had a weak heart, and she refused to be the reason it gave out.

Cassidy's eyes flicked to the lunch bag. "Want to see him that badly? Beg me, and I'll take you up myself."

Something flickered in Wendy's expression tired, sharp. "As long as I'm standing here," she said quietly, "you'll never get to show your face to him."

That landed exactly where it was meant to. Cassidy's jaw tightened. "You want to go up with me? Fine. Let's go."

Wendy followed her into the elevator.

Everyone they passed greeted Cassidy like royalty. Wendy trailed behind in silence, plainly dressed but drawing glances anyway the kind of face people noticed even when they tried not to. The elevator was crowded, the air thin, and by the time the doors opened on the executive floor, Wendy's head was swimming.

She stepped out first, breathing carefully, and waited for Cassidy.

Cassidy gave her one strange look, then walked straight for the office at the end of the hall.

The assistant at the door shot up and bowed the moment he saw her and let her pass without a word. Wendy, he stopped with an outstretched hand.

Cassidy glanced back at Wendy once, triumphant, before disappearing inside and shutting the door.

Wendy set the lunch bag on the assistant's desk. "Please let Mr. Hale know Wendy is here."

The assistant smiled politely, made no move toward the phone, and went back to his paperwork.

Wendy stared at him for a long moment. Then she walked past the desk and pushed the office door open herself, ignoring the assistant's alarmed shout behind her.

Inside, a tall man sat on the couch, his hands settled on the waist of a woman whose clothes were half off her shoulders. They hadn't gone all the way but there was no mistaking where it had been headed.

Wendy froze. Her whole body went rigid. Cassidy's smug little glance from moments ago suddenly made horrible sense.

"Sir, please Miss, you can't" the assistant stammered from the doorway.

"Get out," Nathan said, not even looking up.

The assistant took one glance at the scene on the couch, paled, and retreated instantly.

Nathan pushed Cassidy off him, rubbed his temple, and looked at Wendy like she was an inconvenience. "Who said you could come here?"

Wendy's stomach turned. She clenched her fists, forcing her voice steady. "What is this?"

Nathan stood, unhurried, and poured himself a drink. He took a sip before answering. "Wendy. You don't get a say in my private life."

"I'm still your wife." The words cracked on the way out.

He looked almost amused. "Are you really in a position to call yourself that?"

Nausea rolled through her. She braced a hand against the wall, dry-heaving there was nothing in her stomach to bring up.

Nathan watched her with open distaste. "Don't make a mess of my office."

Her eyes burned. Without lifting her head, she turned, pulled the door open, and left.

She grabbed the lunch bag off the assistant's desk on her way past.

Back in the office, Nathan turned a flat stare on Cassidy, who was still lounging on the couch.

"I swear I had no idea she'd show up," Cassidy said, hands raised in mock innocence.

"I've told you before don't come here uninvited." He was already walking to the door.

"Understood. I'll be more careful." She fixed her slipping strap and made her way out, unbothered.

The door shut behind her so fast it nearly caught her nose.

Downstairs, she found Annie. "Which way did that woman go?"

Annie pointed, and Cassidy followed.

The sky had been clear when Wendy arrived. By the time she left, a fine, suffocating rain had started to fall.

She stood at the bus stop, lunch bag still in hand, staring at nothing until a bus came and went without her noticing. Eventually she looked down at the bag, walked to a trash can, and dropped it in.

The smell hit her and she stepped back right into someone standing behind her.

"Sorry" she started.

She didn't finish. Cassidy was staring at her, all pretense gone, her expression twisted with fury.

Wendy said nothing. Cassidy grabbed her arm. "Don't fool yourself into thinking you'll ever belong in that family. Nobody there wants you. Nothing you do will change that."

"I don't know what you mean," Wendy said evenly, though her breath was unsteady.

Cassidy studied her, working through how to get rid of this problem once and for all. Then her gaze caught on a car pulling up nearby, and an idea reckless, ugly took shape.

Wendy took a step to leave. A hand yanked her back, and she staggered, instinctively pulling free and in that instant, Cassidy, who a second ago had been gripping her arm like iron, went limp and crumpled toward the road.

Cassidy hit the pavement in front of an oncoming bus and screamed.

Wendy's whole body locked up. The bus screeched to a stop, the driver leaning out his window. "Are you two trying to get yourselves killed? Take it off the road!"

Wendy rushed forward to pull Cassidy up, but Cassidy shoved her away, sobbing, shaking.

"Come here, let me help" Wendy reached again, ignoring the scrape stinging across her own palm.

Cassidy wouldn't move. She stayed in the middle of the road, crying, refusing to be helped, drawing a small crowd of irritated passengers craning to see the holdup.

A car pulled up behind the bus. Nathan stepped out and strode straight toward Wendy, his face like a storm cloud. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

"I didn't push her" Wendy started, realizing too late what this looked like.

"Enough." He grabbed her arm, hauled her toward his car, and shoved her in, snapping at the driver: "Take her home. Make sure she actually goes inside."

Wendy cradled her throbbing wrist and watched through the window as her husband crossed to the other woman and lifted her gently off the ground.

She didn't remember the drive back to Hale Manor. She sat alone in her room the rest of the afternoon.

By nightfall, rain was hammering the windows hard enough to drown out the traffic below. When her door slammed open, Wendy flinched so violently her ears rang.

Nathan crossed the room and seized her arm without a word. She gasped at the pain, but he didn't loosen his grip he dragged her straight out into the storm.

The freezing rain snapped her fully awake. She grabbed at his hand. "Nathan! Where are you taking me?"

He finally turned, yanked her around to face him, and demanded, "Do you understand you almost got Cassidy killed today?"

"She fell on her own I never touched her"

"Don't lie to me. Cassidy would never gamble with her own life."

He wouldn't hear another word. He marched her all the way to the family shrine and stopped, pressing down on her shoulder with a force that buckled her knees into the stone. "Think about what you did. Right here."

Wendy couldn't move under that grip. Her knees screamed against the hard ground.

She looked up at him, something close to pleading in her eyes. He looked back at her without a trace of warmth, then turned and walked away.

The shrine was pitch dark except for a few guttering candles, the storm making the shadows worse.

Soaked through, nauseous, her stomach cramping Wendy told herself it was hunger. She hadn't eaten all day.

A shadow fell over her. She looked up, startled, to find Nathan standing a step away, holding an umbrella angled just far enough that the rain kept pouring straight onto her.

Whatever hope she had left drowned right there in the storm.

Her lips, pale and trembling, parted. "Nathan. My stomach it really hurts."

"Don't play games with me," he said, flat.

"I'm not" She swallowed the rest. There was nothing in his eyes to argue with.

She bowed her head, and her tears mixed with the rain and vanished just as fast warmth losing to cold, every time.

Three years in this family, and she'd taken every blow without a single tear. Tonight, kneeling in the freezing dark, something in her finally broke open.

Her vision blurred. She heard fast footsteps, and then someone was blocking the rain from her she looked up to see Grandpa Hale standing over her, already swinging his cane at his grandson.

"You absolute fool! Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

Nathan didn't flinch. "Grandpa, you don't know what she did. She earned this."

The old man wasn't listening. He turned and hauled Wendy to her feet, the housekeeper rushing to help.

"Get Wendy to the hospital, now!"

Her legs had gone numb; they were half-carrying her to the car. Grandpa Hale climbed in beside her, eyes red, voice shaking with anger. "Why didn't anyone call me?"

Wendy gave a small, tired smile. Nobody in that house listened to her why would they call for her? "Grandpa, I'm fine. Just cold, that's all."

He wasn't convinced. He leaned forward and barked at the driver, "Faster."

Her chest ached with something warm and grateful. "It's just rain, Grandpa. You don't need to take me to the hospital."

He didn't answer, just kept his eyes forward, urging the driver on.

She lost consciousness before they even reached the hospital doors.

When she woke, the sharp smell of antiseptic filled her nose, and she could hear voices murmuring just outside the door.

She lay still, eyes open, staring at the ceiling, letting the conversation outside run its course.

Eventually the door opened. Grandpa Hale stepped in, studied her for a long moment, and sighed. "Wendy. Maybe... maybe if you had a child, things would be different. I could make that happen for you."

She understood exactly what he meant. Her eyes dropped. "No."

Forcing a child into this marriage wouldn't fix anything. It would only make it worse.

She met his gaze, steady and certain now. "Grandpa. I want a divorce.”