Chapter 1

Gabrielle Jamison never imagined she would catch her husband cheating on her at a party.

Morgan Quilton was in a white dress shirt and black slacks that showed off his broad shoulders, trim waist, and tall stature. His sharp brow bones and defined nose gave him a striking profile. When his thin lips curved upward, the chill in his whole demeanor only deepened, as if he were wrapped in frost.

The woman beside him wore a red spaghetti-strap gown, with Morgan's black suit jacket draped over her shoulders. Her long brown hair fell in loose waves, giving her a lazy, sophisticated air.

Casper Quilton, Gabrielle and Morgan's four-year-old son, stood between Morgan and the woman. He held one of their hands in each of his.

"Daddy, Winona, the party's about to start. Let's go in," he said.

Gabrielle's mind went blank. She hadn't expected Casper to be there, too.

Her lips parted. She wanted to call out to Casper, but something felt lodged in her throat. She couldn't make a sound.

Casper suddenly turned his head, as if sensing her gaze. His eyes cut through the noisy crowd and landed squarely on her.

Gabrielle clenched her fists so hard that her knuckles turned white as a tiny flicker of hope rose in her chest.

The hostess followed Casper's gaze and asked warily, "Casp, why is that lady staring at you? Do you know her?"

Casper dropped his eyes, his voice barely audible. "No."

The hostess frowned in displeasure. "Who brought her here? Why does she keep staring at our VIP?"

"No idea. Maybe she's someone's nanny," a guest chimed in.

"Go see what's going on," the hostess ordered a staff member, shooting Gabrielle a look of disgust.

Morgan noticed the commotion and turned his head, finally catching sight of Gabrielle. His gaze skimmed over her, cool and distant. There was no guilt at being caught and no attempt to explain who she was.

Instead, he slid his hand to the back of the woman in red and steered her away, as if he didn't want her to see Gabrielle.

A staff member approached Gabrielle. "Ma'am, may I see your invitation? I'll have to ask you to leave if you don't have one."

She dropped her head, feeling humiliated as her fingers nervously twisted the hem of her coat.

Her college senior, Micah Locke, had said he would get her a gown for the event, but she'd turned him down out of fear that she would look awful in it. In the end, she'd left the house in an oversized women's coat and jeans. She looked completely out of place in the glittering ballroom, with its guests in designer gowns and tuxes.

"She's with me," Micah said as he came over and handed the staff member an invitation.

"My apologies, Mr. Locke." The staff member nodded respectfully, then retreated.

"What happened?" Micah asked.

Gabrielle shook her head. She felt like someone had driven an ice-cold blade straight into her chest. The dull ache spread through every nerve; it hurt so much she couldn't even speak.

She'd always known she wasn't good enough for Morgan, so it was within her expectations that he wouldn't acknowledge her in public. But she'd never imagined that Casper would act like he didn't know her.

At her silence, Micah looked up with a helpless sigh and happened to catch sight of Morgan at the end of the hallway with his arm around the woman in red. In that instant, everything clicked for him.

"How about I take you home first?" he suggested.

"No, it's fine. I'm okay." Gabrielle forced a smile.

Earlier that afternoon, Morgan had announced that he was taking Casper over to Quilton Manor and that she didn't need to come.

In response, she'd told him she was attending a professional event with Micah. All he'd said was, "Whatever."

He couldn't care less about where she went or what she did. She genuinely hadn't expected to run into them here, though.

"Morgan's probably just fooling around. Don't let it get to you." Micah tried to comfort Gabrielle as the party broke up.

Gabrielle pressed her lips together.

No, Morgan was serious. The way he looked at that woman—there was a softness, a lingering tenderness that only existed between lovers. It was something Gabrielle had never once seen in his eyes when he looked at her.

Five years ago, she'd shown up pregnant on Morgan's doorstep, and he'd been forced to marry her. In his mind, this marriage was something she'd schemed and trapped him into.

He despised her for it.

For five years, Gabrielle had hoped he would come to love her. At the same time, she'd wondered if he already had someone else on the side.

She hadn't expected the answer to be shoved in her face like this. She'd thought she'd handle it better; she couldn't understand why it hurt this much. She actually wondered if the pain might kill her.

…

When Gabrielle got back to Fairmont Estate, Morgan and Casper weren't home yet.

She kept her head down as she changed out of her shoes. The industry party had wrapped up pretty early. Clearly, the three of them had other plans.

When she looked up, she caught the housekeeper, Judy Cobb, in the act of sneaking some supplements from a bottle on the counter.

Panic flashed across Judy's face, but she quickly smoothed her expression over. She snapped, "Where have you been? You're home awfully late."

Gabrielle was exhausted. She walked around her without answering and headed for the stairs.

"Nothing cooked, and no laundry done. Don't you realize that Mr. Casper has school tomorrow?" Judy barked from behind her.

Gabrielle paused on the staircase. A moment later, she kept climbing.

Judy wasn't just any housekeeper. As Morgan's childhood nanny, she'd practically raised him, and he treated her like family. That status emboldened her, and she never missed a chance to pick on Gabrielle.

Officially, Judy was there to help care for Casper. In reality, Gabrielle was the one who handled everything. When he was a baby, she'd washed every tiny onesie and bib herself. She handled all of Morgan's meals and clothes, too.

"All you know how to do is sleep. Lie in bed all day, and you'll turn into a fat cow! If not for your scheming, Mr. Quilton would never have married a woman like you!"

Bangs and clatters echoed from downstairs. Judy seemed to be throwing things around on purpose so Gabrielle would hear her.

Bang!

Gabrielle's answer was the sharp slam of her bedroom door. Judy rolled her eyes dramatically in the direction of the bedroom on the second floor.

Gabrielle sank down in front of her vanity, feeling lethargic. The woman in the mirror stared back at her.

She'd gotten soft around the middle; her jawline was blurred. Dark circles sat under her eyes, and faint spots dotted her skin. Compared to the way she'd looked at graduation, she could've passed for 30 years older.

And this was with makeup on—she'd put in effort to look better for the event that afternoon.

She was only 27 years old. How had she ended up looking so old and worn? Wasn't marrying the man she loved supposed to make her happy?

Gabrielle brushed her fingertips over the spots and fine lines at the corners of her eyes. She wanted to ask herself if she'd been happy these past few years, but tears slid down her cheeks before she could answer. They were beyond her control.

After a good cry, she felt a bit better. She grabbed her phone and made a call.

"Hello?" Micah's voice came through. He was still driving.

"Micah, you once said you wanted me to work at your company. Does the offer still stand?" Gabrielle asked.

He froze for a heartbeat. "Of course. But new hires have to do two to three years of overseas training first. After that, we assign positions based on the company's needs. With your situation…"

"I can do it," she cut in, firm and decisive.

Micah fell silent. He knew exactly how much Gabrielle loved Morgan. Back when she was desperate for the Quilton family's approval, she'd poured every ounce of energy into the household. She'd never worked a day after getting married.

One couldn't just walk away from a life like that with a snap of one's fingers.

"Come by the office on Monday. We'll talk more then," Micah finally said.

"Okay. Thanks, Micah."

"Don't be ridiculous. You don't have to thank me."

Gabrielle let out a long breath after hanging up. The tight, suffocating pain in her chest finally began to ease, like something had cracked open and she could see daylight again.

She'd been trapped in this prison for too long, and she knew it. But every time she tried to run, she lost her nerve at the final step.

She couldn't let go of Morgan or Casper. She'd kept telling herself that if she just tried hard enough, maybe the Quiltons would finally accept her someday.

But honestly—how was that ever going to happen?

Five years ago, Gabrielle had woken up in Morgan's bed with no memory of how she'd gotten there. He'd looked at her like she was trash, and the memory of that was burned into her brain for life.

Gabrielle wanted to laze around for a while when her phone chimed. Her sister-in-law, Nadia Quilton, had sent a photo to the family group chat. It was a candid photo taken from behind of Morgan and his lover as they walked away together.

Morgan stood tall and handsome in his white shirt and black slacks, and the woman was striking in her red gown with his suit jacket wrapped around her shoulders. His fingers rested at the small of her back, his hand lightly curled around her waist.

Even from behind, they looked like a perfect match.

Nadia texted, "Morgan, is this your girlfriend? When are you gonna introduce us?"

The group chat was dead. No one replied.

Gabrielle stared at the screen. A second later, the photo vanished—Nadia had deleted it.

A weak, bitter smile tugged at Gabrielle's lips. Everyone in the Quilton family knew she was in that group chat. They just didn't care how she felt. To them, she probably couldn't even compare to a pawn.

Her phone rang. It was her mother-in-law, Tina Scott.

"Come to the manor for dinner tonight," Tina said. She hung up before Gabrielle could say anything.

…

When Gabrielle arrived at Quilton Manor, she saw Morgan's car parked out front. She guessed that Tina had summoned them all over because of that photo.

Just as Gabrielle stepped into the living room, she heard Casper's voice drift out from inside. "Does that mean Mommy and Daddy are getting a divorce?"