Chapter 2

Dominic came home at ten that night. It was the first time in a month he'd been home before ten.

He sat on the couch with his legs crossed, his attitude unusually calm.

"Elena, drop the divorce petition first. Let me explain."

He said Mia Kensington was his college junior.

She got pregnant by her ex-boyfriend, who abandoned her. She had nowhere to turn, so she came to him for help.

He was just helping her out of sympathy.

"The baby isn't mine."

I looked into his eyes, searching for any trace of a lie.

His expression was sincere, as sincere as when he'd proposed five years ago.

My heart wavered for a moment.

Maybe this really was a misunderstanding?

"If that's true," I said, "why did you write 'husband' as the emergency contact?"

He paused.

"The retreat center required married status for a discount. I just filled it in without thinking. It doesn't mean anything."

"What about the lakefront penthouse?"

"She's alone with a baby on the way and has nowhere to live. I couldn't just let her end up homeless."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

He was quiet for a long time.

"I was afraid you'd overthink it."

Last year, his female assistant sent him suggestive messages at midnight. I saw them and asked about it.

He said, "You're a lawyer. Why are you so paranoid?"

Now he said he was afraid I'd overthink it.

So he hid a woman, an apartment, a $40,000 postpartum package, and a lawsuit he filed as her "husband."

I said, "I'll think about it."

He thought I was giving in. He reached out to touch my hair.

But I moved away. His hand hung in the air, then dropped.

The next morning, I ran into the judge overseeing the retreat center case in the courthouse hallway.

He knew me. He came over to say hello, hesitated, then said something.

"Ms. Sterling, your husband's case—opposing counsel submitted evidence. Photos of your husband and that woman together, intimate photos spanning over two years. Your husband's attorney confirmed the authenticity in court."

Over two years. Two years of intimate photos.

Every word he said last night was a lie.

In five years of marriage, Dominic and I had fewer than twenty photos together in my phone.

They had enough intimate photos over two years to submit as evidence.

Back at the firm, I pulled Dominic's financial records from the past two years.

Monthly flower deliveries. Recipient: Mia Kensington.

Holiday luxury purchases. Not a single one shipped to our address.

Last Valentine's Day, I waited for him at home. He said he was working late.

The records showed he spent $1,500 at a Michelin-starred restaurant that night. Dinner for two.

I printed everything out and filed it neatly into a folder.

My hands had stopped shaking.

At noon, I went to see my mom at the hospital. She was lucid today, a rare moment of clarity.

She grabbed my hand and suddenly said, "Elena, the last time Dom came to see me, he brought a girl with him. He said she was his sister. But I didn't think so. The girl had a big belly."

My blood rushed to my head.

He'd brought that woman to see my mom and lied to an Alzheimer's patient and called her his "sister."

When I walked out of the hospital entrance, I saw Dominic's car parked by the door.

He was helping Mia Kensington out of the car.

She had one hand on her lower back, the other looped through his arm.

Dominic saw me and froze. Mia saw me too. She tightened her grip on his arm.

Dominic tried to pull his arm away.

Mia suddenly clutched her stomach and crouched down.

"Dom, my stomach hurts so bad."

Dominic immediately crouched down to support her.

"What's wrong? Should we go to the ER?"

He didn't even glance at me again.

I stood there and watched for ten seconds. Then I walked over, crouched down, and used the calmest voice of my entire legal career.

"Ms. Kensington, when is your due date?"

Mia looked up at me, tears still clinging to her lashes.

"If you conceived during the period of my marriage to Dominic Hayes, I will subpoena you as a third party in the divorce proceedings. Your personal information will become part of the evidence in the judgment."

"Divorce judgments are public record."

Mia's face went white. Dominic looked up at me, his lips moving.

I stood up, took out my phone, and right in front of him, called the court clerk's office.

"Hello, this is Elena Sterling, attorney. Case number 2024-CV-3867. I'm filing to add a third party to the proceedings."

I turned and walked away. Behind me, Dominic called my name.

But I didn't look back.