PROLOGUE

The diamond on Erixia's left hand sparkled beneath the crystal chandelier.

It was a seven-carat emerald-cut diamond.

A symbol of forever.

A promise.

A marriage worth billions.

A lie.

She stared at her reflection inside the floor-to-ceiling mirror of the penthouse bathroom, slowly removing the crimson lipstick that didn't belong to her husband.

No...

Nothing about tonight belonged to Grant.

Not the perfume lingering on her neck.

Not the lipstick smudged around her lips.

Not the bite mark hidden beneath the silk collar of her blouse.

Her trembling fingers wiped away every trace, yet she couldn't erase the guilt staring back at her.

She closed her eyes.

"Get yourself together, Erixia."

A knock echoed outside the bathroom.

"My love?"

Grant.

His voice.

Warm.

Gentle.

The same voice that had comforted her during nightmares.

The same voice that never once raised itself at her.

"My Rixy? Are you okay?"

She swallowed hard before forcing a smile.

"Y-Yes."

"You've been in there for almost twenty minutes."

"I'm coming."

She splashed cold water on her face and inhaled deeply.

One more smile.

Just one.

When she opened the door, Grant stood there wearing nothing but gray lounge pants and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

His hair was still damp from his shower.

He smiled the moment he saw her.

"There you are."

Without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"I was getting worried."

She froze.

That simple kiss...

It hurt more than any slap.

"You look pale," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Did the charity gala exhaust you?"

She nodded.

"A little."

"Come."

His large hand found hers effortlessly.

"I asked Chef to make your favorite truffle pasta."

"You remembered?"

Grant chuckled.

"I remember everything about you."

Her heart clenched.

Of course he did.

He remembered her favorite flowers.

The exact coffee she liked every morning.

The way she couldn't sleep without the television on low volume.

The date of her grandmother's death.

The date where they first met; him as a young C.E.O, speaking in a Youth summit, and her as  the head of the Youth organizatio called: ALAB

Her allergies.

Her fears.

Everything.

Everything...

Except the fact that his wife had spent the last three hours in another man's hotel suite.

She looked away before he could see the tears threatening to fall.

Dinner was quiet.

Grant kept talking about his latest expansion into Europe while serving food onto her plate before filling his own.

"You barely ate during the gala."

"I'm not hungry."

"You always say that."

He smiled.

"Eat a little for me."

She picked up her fork.

Every bite tasted like guilt.

Grant watched her with nothing but affection.

"So..."

He reached inside his pocket.

"I almost forgot."

He slid a small velvet box across the dining table.

She frowned.

"Grant..."

"What?"

"It's not my birthday."

"I know."

"Our anniversary isn't until next month."

"I know."

"Then why—"

"Do I need a reason to spoil my wife?"

He winked.

"Open it."

With shaky hands, she lifted the lid.

Inside rested a breathtaking diamond bracelet.

Custom-made.

The initials G & E delicately engraved on the inside.

Forever.

She couldn't breathe.

"It's beautiful."

"You like it?"

"I..."

Her voice cracked.

"I love it."

Grant smiled like a little boy receiving approval.

"Good."

He reached across the table, taking the bracelet from its box before fastening it around her wrist himself.

"There."

He kissed her hand.

"My wife deserves the world."

Her chest tightened.

If only he knew.

If only he knew where this hand had been just hours ago.

That night...

Grant wrapped an arm around her as they lay in bed.

She stared into the darkness.

Wide awake.

He wasn't.

Within minutes, his breathing became slow and even.

Asleep.

Trusting.

Safe.

She carefully turned toward him.

Even sleeping, he looked peaceful.

She gently brushed her fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry..."

Her whisper barely reached the silence.

"I'm so sorry."

Grant instinctively reached for her in his sleep, pulling her closer against his chest.

"I love you..."

he murmured unconsciously.

Those three words shattered what remained of her composure.

Silent tears soaked his shirt.

He thought she was crying because she was tired.

He held her tighter.

Never imagining...

...that the woman trembling in his arms had betrayed him.

Again.

Three months later...

Grant sat alone inside his office.

On his mahogany desk lay a brown envelope.

No sender.

No return address.

His secretary, Azi entered.

"Sir..."

"What is it?"

"It was delivered by courier. They said it's confidential."

Grant nodded absentmindedly.

"Leave it there."

"Yes, sir."

The door clicked shut.

For several minutes, he ignored the envelope, finishing a contract worth nearly two billion pesos.

Only then did he open it.

Inside...

Photographs.

His smile disappeared.

One.

Erixia entering a luxury hotel.

Two.

A man holding her waist inside the elevator.

Three.

The unmistakable image of his wife kissing another man.

Grant stared.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

He couldn't blink.

His breathing slowed.

His hands trembled.

"No..."

He flipped through the remaining photographs.

Each one more devastating than the last.

Hotel receipts.

Messages.

Dates.

Evidence.

Not one affair.

Not two.

Three.

Three different men.

Across three different years.

His entire marriage unfolded before him like a carefully documented crime scene.

The office fell deathly silent.

Then...

A single tear landed on the final photograph.

Grant quickly wiped it away.

Not because he was embarrassed.

But because he refused to let the ink blur.

He wanted to see every detail.

Every lie.

Every betrayal.

Every moment the woman he loved chose someone else.

He slowly removed the wedding ring from his finger.

For six years...

It had never left his hand.

He stared at it for a long time.

Then he placed it beside the photographs.

His voice was barely audible.

"I would've forgiven you once."

Silence.

"I forgave you twice..."

Another tear escaped despite his efforts.

"But..."

His eyes closed.

"I can't survive a third."

The billionaire who had built an empire with unwavering determination...

Finally broke.

And with him...

So did their marriage.

Grant didn't go home that night.

Instead, he sat alone in his office until dawn, the photographs spread across his desk like shards of broken glass.

His phone buzzed.

Wife ❤️

Are you coming home?

He stared at the message for nearly a minute.

Then, for the first time in six years...

He didn't reply.

At the Fullerton Mansion, Erixia paced the living room.

She called him.

Once.

Twice.

Ten times.

No answer.

A knot formed in her stomach.

She didn't know why.

But for the first time...

She felt like Grant knew.

The next morning.

Grant walked into the mansion as if nothing had happened.

He greeted the house staff.

He kissed Erixia's forehead.

"Good morning."

She froze.

"You... came home."

"I did."

He smiled.

"I'm taking the day off."

Relief washed over her.

Until he added—

"We're going somewhere."

"Where?"

Grant looked into her eyes, his expression unreadable.

"To meet my lawyer."