LOGINClaire's love for Richard was legendary — three years of devotion that everyone envied. Until the day she found her best friend Monica on top of her husband in their living room, and her world shattered. "Sign it, Claire," Richard said, tossing divorce papers at her hospital bed, his once-warm blue eyes now ice cold. "You disgust me. You're clingy, obsessed, and suffocating." One year later, Claire Winfred returns to town — transformed, powerful, and engaged to billionaire Alexander Hayes. But she hasn't come back for a new beginning. She's come back for revenge. Now she's the one calling the shots, trapping Richard behind his desk, her hand gripping his tie. "Tell me, Richard," she purrs, "do you still find me disgusting?" "Yes," he lies, even as his body betrays him. "Then explain why you're so hard right now." The seduction has begun. But in a game this dangerous, who will be the hunter and who will be the prey?
View MoreChapter 5CAMILLE'S POINT OF VIEWThe parking garage of the hotel where I lodged was too quiet. My heels echoed against concrete, each click bouncing off empty cars and shadowed pillars. It was late, past midnight, but something felt wrong. Off.My confrontation with Rose and my family had left me drained, empty except for the cold satisfaction of finally seeing behind her mask. I fumbled with my key fob, wanting nothing more than to get to my hotel room and plan my next move.A car door slammed somewhere in the darkness.I stopped listening. Nothing but the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant sound of traffic.My phone buzzed in my purse. Rose's number. I declined it, but not before noticing my signal had dropped to one bar.Perfect.Footsteps behind me. Multiple sets.I walked faster, cursing my choice of heels. The hotel's elevator was just around the corner, past a row of concrete pillars. If I could just..."Going somewhere, Mrs. Rodriguez?"A man stepped out from behind a
Chapter 4STEFAN'S POINT OF VIEWThe scotch burned going down, but I poured another anyway. My third? Fourth? I'd lost count somewhere between signing those divorce papers and watching Camille walk away.Our wedding photo still sat on my desk, mocking me. Camille's genuine smile, my distracted eyes, already looking past her, always looking for Rose.Rose.Even her name felt like betrayal now.My phone lit up with another message from her: "Darling, stop drinking and come over. We should celebrate."Celebrate. Like we hadn't just destroyed someone who loved us. Someone who'd given me three years of devotion I never deserved.The memory hit me like a punch to the gut."Stefan?" Camille's voice was small, uncertain. "Did I do something wrong?"I looked up from my laptop, irritated at the interruption. She stood in the doorway of my home office, holding a plate of something that smelled amazing."I made that pasta you mentioned. The one with truffles?" Her eyes were hopeful. "Rose gave me
Chapter 3ROSE'S POINT OF VIEWI swirled the champagne in my crystal flute, watching the bubbles dance. Victory tasted sweet, just like I'd imagined all these years. The living room of my penthouse apartment overlooked the city where I'd spent twenty years pretending to be the perfect adopted daughter, the loving sister, the supportive friend.What a joke."To freedom," I whispered to my reflection in the window. The woman staring back at me smiled, perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect lies. Just like always.My phone buzzed again. Another missed call from Stefan. He'd been calling non-stop since Camille walked out, probably worried I'd change my mind now that everything was in the open. Poor, predictable Stefan. Still thinking he was in control of any of this.I kicked off my Louboutins and sank into the leather couch, letting memories wash over me like warm wine.The first time I saw Camille Lewis, I hated her.I was thirteen, fresh out of foster care, desperate to please my new par
Chapter 2Camille's point of viewThe house was quiet, too quiet. I slipped in through the side door, locking it softly behind me. The air smelled like lemon polish and roses, just like it always did. It felt strange to be back, like stepping into someone else’s life.The kitchen was dark except for the faint glow of the fridge light. I crept up the stairs, careful to skip the third step that creaked. Every sound I made felt loud, like the house itself was listening.When I reached my bedroom door, I stopped. It was open a crack, just like I’d left it all those years ago. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside and shut the door.My childhood bedroom hadn't changed in three years. Same pale pink walls, same white furniture, same collection of second-place trophies. Rose's first-place ones used to shine in the room next door.I stared at my reflection in the vanity mirror, the same one where I'd practiced my wedding makeup three years ago, Rose standing behind me with that perfect smile
Chapter 1CAMILLE'S POINT OF VIEWThree years. One thousand and ninety-five days of trying to be the perfect wife, and this was my reward divorce papers on our anniversary.I stared at Stefan's perfect signature on the last page, the ink still fresh. He must have signed them this morning, probably






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