Chapter 1

The mask hid my face well enough that the bartender didn't recognize me.

He paused for a moment, then offered a gentle warning. "Miss, are you sure you picked the right side? Even I know Mallory Abernathy isn't going to divorce her husband."

A bitter smile tugged at my mouth.

Of course he knew. Everyone in Port Calloway knew how shamelessly I'd clung to Alden Van Alstyne, how little dignity I seemed to have left.

Five years ago, Alden had looked me in the eyes and promised to make me the happiest woman in the city.

And now? The only thing I was famous for was being its biggest joke.

"I picked the right side," I said, my voice turning cold. "Put every dollar on Mallory Abernathy getting divorced."

The bartender looked baffled, but he didn't argue. He took my card and went to place the wager.

Around the private lounge, the wealthy heirs and their friends erupted in laughter.

"Who's the idiot throwing away that much money?"

"They must be from out of town. Everybody knows Mrs. Van Alstyne would rather die than let Alden go."

Heat rose to my cheeks despite the mask.

They weren't entirely wrong. I'd barely recognized myself these past few years.

I'd fired every woman in Alden's executive office. I'd sabotaged potential business deals because a female representative was involved. I'd even hired people to follow him and report where he went.

There was always another humiliating scene, another desperate attempt to keep him close.

I hadn't been that person when he married me. But the endless photographs, rumors, and stories about the women surrounding him had tormented me every single day.

Their laughter dragged me back to the present.

The bartender returned and gave me a discreet nod. The wager was placed.

I lowered my gaze to the medical report crumpled in my fist.

Patient: Mallory Abernathy.

Eight weeks pregnant. Embryo developing normally.

I rested a hand over my stomach. The ache in my chest made it difficult to breathe.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," I whispered. "Maybe we just weren't meant to meet."

I turned to leave, but Alden's executive assistant, Nolan Pierce, had just entered with a woman whose eyes were swollen from crying.

Instinctively, I stepped behind a pillar.

Alden saw the unmistakable handprint on her cheek. He sprang to his feet, his expression darkening.

"Did that bastard hit you?"

The woman shook her head, sniffing. "No, Alden. Please don't go after him."

His mouth flattened into a hard line. I knew that look. It was what happened when concern overwhelmed his self-control.

I'd seen it directed at me five years ago.

Not once since.

"Sabine, when are you going to stand up for yourself?" he snapped. "I'm here. What the hell are you so afraid of?"

I went still.

Sabine Levesque.

Alden's ex-wife. The woman with the same tiny red beauty mark at the corner of her eye as mine.

Sabine lifted her face toward him. "If I fight back, he'll pull his investment. My family's company will go under without that money. I can't be that selfish."

Alden drew a sharp breath, anger flashing across his face.

"Then divorce him. I'll back you. And as for the money, Van Alstyne Group will invest ten times whatever he's putting in."

There was a full three feet between them. Neither touched the other. But the tenderness in their eyes was impossible to miss.

I thought of three years ago, when Abernathy Holdings had been on the brink of collapse during a financial crisis.

A modest investment from Alden's company could have saved us. I'd begged him for it.

He'd sat behind his desk, watching his own wife fall apart, and answered in the calm, businesslike voice he used with strangers.

"I keep business and personal matters separate, Mallory. Tell your family to file for bankruptcy."

So much for principles. So much for keeping business separate from his private life.

The only difference was the woman asking.

Once I understood that, there was nothing left to save.

I went to the hospital and terminated the pregnancy I'd been carrying for eight weeks.

Cold wind seeped through the hospital window as I picked up my phone. I was exhausted and aching all over inside, but I managed to call my grandfather.

"Grandpa," I said, fighting the tremor in my voice. "I want to come home."