Harmon

For five years, I was married to Angelo Harmon, who treated me like a queen, earning the envy of everyone around us. But my dream life ended when I discovered he had a second home with a younger woman. When I confronted him, he brushed it off. "It's just a fling for excitement. You’re still my wife. What's the problem?" His callousness repulsed me, pushing me to terminate my pregnancy and walk away.

Olivia Harmon's marriage was not ideal. Her husband cheated on her at the time she needed him most. Despite his effort to pay for his mistakes, Olivia never really moved on from her heartbreak. She couldn't understand why someone whom she trusted most would be the one person who betrayed her. And then she met Roman. Blue eyes, full of charms, a smile that could brighten up her darkest nights, funny, and a face that made any woman turned their heads. Their love affair was fervent, refreshing, passionate, romantic, and brief. It was over as soon as it began until they meet again two years later in unexpected circumstances. Lies. Deceit. Guilt. Passion. Love. Infatuation. Olivia found herself in a tug-of-war with herself. Tangled in the complexity of her marriage and her new love. She soon discovered she was not the only one with secrets, leading them to an inevitable doom.

Grayson Harmon's childhood friend, Sophia Lexton, got into a car accident. She didn't just lose her memory—she came away with some post-traumatic stress disorder, too. That's what the doctors called it. They said we had to keep her calm, avoid anything that might upset her. So, for the sake of her recovery, Grayson asked me not to argue with her. To let her have her way, no matter what. She took my engagement necklace and moved into the little love nest Grayson and I had made our own. And on our wedding day, she threatened to kill herself, forcing Grayson to take her to the hospital. He looked at her bleeding out and said to me, calm as ever, "Brianna, I'll make it up to you after the wedding. I'll throw you an even grander one. Sophia is dying." Then he picked her up and walked away, never once looking back. If he had—just once—he might have seen something was wrong. He might have seen the blood soaking into my wedding dress.