Chapter 1

To steal my fortune, my husband, Marcus, and my best friend, Vivian, teamed up to ruin me.

They secretly slipped my hotel room keycard to a slimy male client.

Little did they know, I had already swapped my keycard with Marcus’s.

Marcus and I had been married for five years. For the longest time, we were the picture-of-perfect couple.

That was until I accidentally found out he was cheating on me. And the other woman was Vivian, my best friend.

Looking at the photos of their secret rendezvous sent by my private investigator, my heart didn’t even skip a beat. I casually forwarded the evidence to my divorce lawyer.

After all, as the CEO of one of the top enterprises in Minnesota, money was infinitely more important to me than any man.

My phone buzzed twice. The PI had sent me two audio recordings.

I tapped play, and the voices of Marcus and Vivian filled the room.

Marcus’s voice was low, completely stripped of the gentle tone he usually used with me:

"During her business trip to Houston, find a way to get Sophia drunk and slip her room keycard to Henderson."

"I’ve already arranged for paparazzi at the hotel entrance. The moment she steps out of that room with him, her reputation will be toast."

Vivian cooed in a sickly sweet, babyish voice:

"Marcus, I’ll do whatever you say. But when are you finally going to divorce her? I’m tired of being your dirty little secret."

Marcus immediately comforted her with a soft, doting tone:

"Vivian, just give me a little more time. Sophia made me sign a prenup. If I divorce her now, I walk away with absolutely nothing."

"But luckily, her company is facing a temporary cash flow crisis."

"Once this hotel scandal blows up, I’ll pressure her to fund a new company under my name as her safety net."

"By then, all her money will practically be mine."

Vivian giggled, her voice dripping with affection.

"Marcus, you are brilliant! You better marry me the second you get that money."

"Don’t worry, babe. I’ll dump her so fast. The title of Mrs. Minnesota’s top tech wife belongs to you and only you."

The rest of the recording was just the two of them making out.

It made me want to throw up. I had no idea they had sunk this low.

Back then, Vivian was the one who practically begged me to give Marcus a chance.

In two weeks, I was scheduled to go to Houston for a major partnership deal. Harold Henderson was the local representative—a middle-aged, greasy, pot-bellied investor.

I almost laughed out loud at the sheer absurdity of their disgusting scheme.

One was the husband I had shared a bed with for five years, and the other was the best friend I had known for seven.

They lived off my dime and spent my money, only to turn around and stab me in the back.

Perhaps they had lived in luxury for too long that they forgot who actually paid the bills.

Originally, I was planning on a quiet, clean divorce. But now? I wasn’t going to let them off that easily.

I picked up the office phone, called my assistant, and told my lawyer to temporarily hold off on drafting the divorce papers.