Chapter 1

I stared at my phone, thumb hovering over my boyfriend Damian Reed’s contact, completely torn.

Tonight was supposed to be the proposal. After that, I was going to bring him home to meet my family and reveal who I really was. We were going to stand before a priest, trade vows, kiss, and walk down the aisle wrapped in everyone’s blessings.

He really did love me. Or at least, I thought he did.

As the heir to a massive fine-jewelry empire, Damian had a schedule that was constantly packed.

Yet no matter how crazy his day got, he drove me to and from work every single day, cooked my favorite meals, and gave me one-of-a-kind custom jewelry pieces he designed himself, completely unique in the world.

Just as I was about to call him, a text popped up from his secretary, Sophia Cooper: [This was originally meant for you. Now it’s mine.]

Attached was a photo of an elegant candlelit dinner. In the middle of the table sat an open velvet box featuring a dazzling sapphire ring.

“Anna, you’re the only person I’ll ever give fine jewelry to,” Damian said, “It’s my promise of love to you.”

My phone almost slipped from my grip. He was giving custom jewelry to another woman—and worse, that exact ring was a piece we had sketched together.

I couldn’t understand why Damian was doing this. He was always so gentle, treating me like I was made of glass.

The next morning, I dragged myself to the orchestra with dark circles carved under my eyes. The moment I walked through the doors, everyone crowded around me, shoving their phones in my face with bright, excited grins.

“Anna, we saw the headlines! Damian popped the question last night, didn't he?”

“I heard he rented out that entire rooftop venue—that place costs thousands of dollars an hour!”

I stared down at the ring on my finger as everyone gushed over how romantic the proposal was, bombarding me with congratulations.

None of them knew the truth. Nobody else felt the humiliation of being ditched or remembered the bone-chilling wind as I walked home alone in the dark.

I couldn't focus through the entire morning rehearsal. During our lunch break, a few members glanced toward the entrance, puzzled.

“Hey Anna, where's Damian? Didn't he bring lunch today?”

I forced a stiff smile, ducked my head, and slipped into the dressing room.

I had a bad habit of skipping meals, which left me with chronic stomach pain. Ever since Damian and I started dating, he made it his personal mission to fix that. No matter how busy his schedule was, he showed up on time every single day with fresh food.

I had gotten so used to relying on him, so completely wrapped up in the safety of his love, that this single absence brought a sharp burn behind my eyes.

By the time evening finally rolled around, my body ached with fatigue. I stepped outside into the chilly air.

“Anna, over here.”

It was Damian. He was leaning casually against his car, waving at me with the exact same easy smile he always had when picking me up.

He acted as if he hadn't abandoned me in the freezing cold just twenty-four hours ago.

He drove us to the house we had designed together, taking my hand as he unlocked the front door and led me inside.

Just as I was gathering the courage to tell him everything about my past, I noticed that the oil portrait on the accent wall was gone.

It was a painting based on a photograph he took the night I was promoted to principal cellist. Back then, Damian had gotten into a massive blowup with his parents because he refused to take over the family business, running away from home in a fit of rage. On an impulse, he bought a ticket to my show.

“Anna, you looked like a goddess bathed in moonlight,” he had whispered to me later, “I’m absolutely captivated by you.”

He told me that hearing me play sent an electric shock straight through his veins. After we got together, he printed out that picture and hand-painted it into a canvas portrait to hang in our home.

Now, the wall where it used to hang was completely bare.

“You know, Anna, I used to dream about you shining up on stage,” Damian said, glancing casually toward the empty wall before flicking open a lighter and lighting a cigarette, “But living with you every day? Turns out it's really nothing special.

“Don't get me wrong, I still like you well enough. Sign this prenup, and the wedding goes on as scheduled.”