Nine months pregnant. My water just broke.
On the way to the hospital, the girl I’d been paying through college called my husband.
“I’ve been in love with you for so long,” she sobbed into the phone. “I can’t destroy your family anymore. I’m ending it all. The blade’s already on my wrist…”
My husband–the man who swore to love me till death–slammed the brakes. Made an illegal U–turn on the freeway. Left me bleeding on the side of the road. “Her life matters more than yours right now!” he screamed as he sped away. I walked five miles in active labor. Five. Fucking. Miles. Cars flying past. Blood running down my legs. Strangers recording instead of helping.
By the time I collapsed in the ER, it was too late.
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said. “Your baby didn’t make it.”
When I called him from my hospital bed, he had the audacity to say: “Listen, let’s divorce temporarily. Just until Senna calms down. I know we lost our baby, but we can’t bring it back by crying. At least we can save HER life. She’s young, innocent… Be reasonable, Ivy.”
Reasonable? After he killed our child for his side piece?
“Fine,” I whispered. “Enjoy your freedom.”
She got my husband, my house, my life. I got therapy bills and nightmares. Three years later, I’m thriving. New city. New husband who actually loves me. Pregnant again.
Then Raven found me at a charity gala.
His fingers wrapped around my throat as he snarled: “You fucking whore! You remarried? We had a DEAL! You were supposed to wait for me! What, you couldn’t keep your legs together for five minutes? How many men have you spread them for, you desperate slut?”
CHAPTER 1: The Accusation
“Ivy! You pathetic bitch, finally decided to show your face?”
“What, ran out of men to leech off? Here to beg for scraps?”
I froze outside LAX’s departure gates. The man spitting venom at me–it took me a moment to recognize Raven Morrison, my ex–husband.
The woman plastered against him, dripping in designer labels from her red- bottomed heels to her Birkin bag? Senna Winters. The same girl who used to sob in my kitchen about choosing between textbooks and food. I’d paid for her entire education, even her therapy sessions.
Guess she’d been planning this from day one.
Raven’s face contorted with disgust. “Three years, Ivy. Three fucking years you’ve
been playing victim.”
“What happened? Reality hit hard? Realized you’re nothing without my money?” His eyes swept over my sweaty gym clothes with contempt. “Jesus Christ, look at you. You’re disgusting. This is what you’ve become? A gym rat desperately hunting for your next meal ticket?”
“Well, too fucking bad. You walked out on ME, remember? You don’t get to come
crawling back like the worthless parasite you are.”
“Get this through your thick skull–I wouldn’t take you back if you were the last
woman on Earth.”
I found my voice. “I’m here on business, asshole. Not everything revolves around
you.”
Raven barked out a laugh. “Business? You can’t even afford a bus pass.” “Stop the pathetic act. We both know why you’re really here.”
Senna’s syrupy voice cut in: “Ivy, sweetie, Raven and I are getting married at the Four Seasons next month. This is… awkward. Can you please just go?”
“I mean, Raven’s company just went public. We can’t have you making scenes. It’s bad for our image.”
Raven yanked out his wallet and hurled bills at my face. Hundreds scattered around my feet.
1/2
“There’s five grand. Now fuck off before I call security.”
He grabbed Senna’s waist possessively and stalked away.
I stood there shaking–not from hurt, but rage. I wanted to grab him by his designer tie and remind him who paid for his first startup. Who believed in him when he was nobody.
But my phone buzzed. Jett’s flight had landed.
I’d been crushing it at SoulCycle when I remembered I had to be at the airport. Hence the messy appearance that made Raven assume I was desperate.
Screw them both. I had better things waiting for me.
But the second I walked into the first–class lounge, I gagged. Cigar smoke and
cologne created a toxic cloud. A bunch of finance bros had colonized the space, acting like they owned it.
