Chapter 1

On our seventh wedding anniversary, Ethan gifted me a luxury penthouse worth eight million dollars, overlooking the city skyline.

My best friends were popping champagne in the spacious living room, their eyes burning with envy.

"Ethan absolutely adores you, Audrey! He put the deed entirely in your name!"

Ethan gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his voice dripping with affection. "Everything I own belongs to Audrey."

I smiled and leaned into his chest, basking in the envy of everyone in the room.

But later that night, as I was hanging up his suit jacket, a folded piece of paper slipped out of the inner pocket.

It was a newly notarized family trust agreement.

My eyes scanned down the page, stopping at the beneficiary line.

There, in bold letters, was the name: "Leo Sterling." Age: six.

My heart skipped a beat. I looked up at my perfect husband, who was currently in the kitchen searing sea bass for my anniversary dinner.

It turned out he didn’t just have a six-year-old son.

He had already drained and transferred all the core assets of the Sterling family estate, leaving me with nothing but an empty shell.

"Hey babe, who’s Leo Sterling?"

I leaned against the kitchen doorframe, casually waving the piece of paper in my hand.

Ethan turned around from the stove, a smear of garlic butter on his designer apron.

He glanced at the paper in my hand.

"Oh, that's my cousin's kid. You met him last Thanksgiving, remember? The little guy who kept chasing you around for chocolate."

He walked over, took the paper from my hand, folded it twice, and slid it back into his pocket. Then, he playfully pinched my nose.

"The company is doing some tax restructuring through a family trust. The accountant needed me to sign off on it."

He looked down at me with a tender smile.

"Since when did my Audrey start going through my pockets?"

"Just checking to see if you're hiding a secret stash of cash."

"My money is your money, remember?"

He repeated the same line he had said ten thousand times before, his voice as warm and soothing as a cup of hot cider.

For seven years, every word he spoke had been pitched at the perfect frequency to make me feel safe.

It was so perfect, it felt rehearsed.

I smiled, leaned into his embrace, and dropped the subject.

After my friends left, he brought me my nightly cup of wellness tea. The amber liquid shimmered under the crystal chandelier, smelling faintly of chamomile and lavender.

Every single night, for seven years.

He claimed it was for my insomnia.

Tonight, I didn't drink it.

I pretended to take a sip, and the moment his back was turned, I poured the tea into the pot of the snake plant beside the sofa.

Then, I lay down in bed, closed my eyes, and regulated my breathing to mimic a deep sleep.

Forty minutes later, he got up.

His footsteps were incredibly light. He wasn't going to the bathroom—he walked straight toward the study.

The door clicked shut.

I opened my eyes.

Every night for the past seven years, that tea had knocked me into an unnaturally heavy sleep. I had never once been awake at this hour.

Every single night. For seven years.

I walked barefoot to the study door, knelt, and pressed my ear to the gap.

He was on the phone.

"Yeah, it’s signed... Leo is the sole beneficiary, it’s all set... She saw the papers, but I handled it. She won't ask again."

A pause.

"Victoria, when have I ever broken a promise to you? Just three more months. Once the deed transfer for the downtown commercial lot is complete, she’ll be of no use to me."

Another pause.

Then, he laughed.

It was a laugh I had never heard from him before—relaxed, genuine, the laugh of a man who was finally done acting.

"Once this is over, the three of us are moving to Vancouver. Didn't Leo say he wanted to see the Northern Lights?"

I knelt in the dark hallway, digging my fingernails deep into my palms.

The downtown commercial lot—the prime piece of real estate my dad left me as my only inheritance before he died.

A year after we married, Ethan offered to manage my assets, and I signed the power of attorney.

Seven years.

Just how many things had he signed using my name?

I silently retreated to the bedroom and slipped back under the covers.

Five minutes later, he crept back in, slid under the sheets, and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Audrey, still awake?"

I kept my breathing steady and didn't move a muscle.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against the back of my neck.

"Goodnight, sweetie."