Chapter 1

“Evelyn, the board wants the final Harbor Point proposal tomorrow morning. Grant said the risk assessment has to be finished tonight.”

Vanessa dropped a thick stack of documents onto my desk.

An updated environmental report sat on top. Beneath it were tenant disputes, financing terms, and the latest renovation budget.

One overlooked problem could cost the company millions.

Vanessa had received the documents at three that afternoon.

It was now eight forty.

“Got it.” I pulled the files toward me.

She clearly hadn’t expected me to agree so easily.

“Grant and I are meeting with the bank tonight, so we may be back late. Leave everything in his office when you’re done.”

She walked away, then turned around.

“Oh, and the architectural model on his desk is dusty. Wipe it down while you’re in there.”

Then she left, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.

The office went quiet.

Several employees who were still working glanced at me, visibly uncomfortable.

Everyone knew I was Grant’s wife.

Vanessa was only supposed to be his assistant.

But inside Whitmore Development, she gave orders like she was the CEO’s wife.

Six months earlier, Grant had recruited her from a real estate brokerage that was close to bankruptcy.

She had never handled a major development.

Still, within three months, she went from executive assistant to Associate Director of Development.

Now she wanted Harbor Point Apartments.

My project.

I had spent more than a year negotiating the acquisition and resolving its legal and financing problems.

We were finally ready to begin construction when Grant announced that Vanessa would replace me as project lead.

At the executive meeting last week, all seven senior officers opposed the decision.

Grant was the only person who supported her.

Instead of reconsidering, he accused me of turning management against a new employee.

“You stacked the room against her because you didn’t want competition.”

Then he removed me from the project.

Every executive who had opposed Vanessa was pushed off the core team, and their quarterly bonuses were frozen.

After that, no one dared challenge him again.

That night, Grant came home and gave me what he called an explanation.

“You’re my wife. Of course people instinctively take your side.”

“Vanessa has no connections here. No one speaks for her. I’m only giving her a fair chance.”

And somehow, I believed him.

A week after Vanessa took over Harbor Point, she confused the building’s total square footage with its rentable square footage.

The mistake nearly cost the company eight million dollars.

I stayed up all night rebuilding the financial model and renegotiating the offer before the deadline.

Vanessa kept the position.

Grant kept calling it fairness.

She got the credit.

I got the mess.

Footsteps sounded near the stairs.

I looked up and saw Grant coming down from the executive floor.

He wore a charcoal overcoat and a silver mechanical watch.

Vanessa had given him the watch for his birthday.

I had bought him watches before.

He had never worn any of them.

He always said having something around his wrist distracted him while he worked.

But he had worn Vanessa’s watch every day for three straight weeks.

Grant glanced in my direction.

His eyes paused briefly on the stack of files covering my desk.

He didn’t ask why I was still working this late.

He simply checked the time and headed for the elevator.

A few minutes later, Vanessa came out of the restroom.

She had reapplied her lipstick and removed her blazer. All she wore now was a fitted black dress.

She passed my desk with a spring in her step.

“Don’t work too hard, Evelyn.”

The elevator doors opened.

Grant was waiting inside.

He held the doors for her.

He never looked at me again.

Grant knew exactly what he was doing.

It all started three months earlier, when I found Vanessa’s apartment saved under Frequent Destinations in Grant’s car.

He had driven there seventeen times in one month.

So I confronted him.