Chapter 1

A woman cuts in front of me at my family’s auction house and tells me her fiancé runs the place.

I frown.

Because the Managing Director she is talking about is Ethan Cole.

My husband.

I came to Whitmore & Co. to consign part of my family’s private collection. After waiting nearly half an hour, I am finally next when Vanessa Reed walks up with another woman and steps straight in front of me.

“Excuse me. There’s a line.”

Instead of apologizing, Vanessa looks me over.

“Do you know who I am?”

“My fiancé is the Managing Director here. I’m letting one of my VIP clients go first. What’s wrong with that?”

She lifts her chin.

“VIP clients get priority. If you don’t like it, go somewhere else.”

I immediately call Ethan.

“When did Whitmore & Co. start letting employees push scheduled clients aside for their own VIPs?”

He barely reacts.

“Vanessa has a temper. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“Her client is important. Just let her go first.”

“And don’t embarrass Vanessa in front of a client. She handles VIP relationships for me. How is she supposed to work if you undermine her in public?”

Then he hangs up.

Vanessa points back toward the waiting area.

“You heard him. Go wait.”

When I do not move, she gives me a hard shove.

“You’re holding up an actual VIP client.”

I have heard enough.

I turn and head straight for Ethan’s office.

I want to ask my husband one question to his face.

Since when does someone else get to make the rules in my family’s auction house?

-

Vanessa rushes after me and grabs my arm.

“Are you deaf?”

Her fingers dig into my skin.

“I told you to wait. Why are you going into my fiancé’s office?”

I yank my arm free.

“I don’t care what kind of relationship you have with your boss.”

Her face tightens.

“But you’re a Senior VIP Client Relations Manager. You don’t get to push scheduled clients aside because you feel like it.”

I push open the office door.

And stop.

Ethan is not inside.

But someone else clearly spends a lot of time here.

A pair of women’s heels sits beside the couch.

A silk scarf is draped over the armrest.

There is a makeup bag on the side table and an overnight bag tucked near the private bathroom.

This does not look like a woman who dropped by once.

Vanessa folds her arms behind me.

“My fiancé isn’t here, so stop wasting your time.”

A few employees nearby look over.

One whispers,

“Who is she?”

Another says,

“No idea. But if Vanessa decides not to process her consignment, she’s done that before.”

A third lowers her voice.

“Mr. Cole told us Vanessa speaks for him when he’s not here.”

I turn around.

“She’s refused clients before?”

No one answers.

The woman Vanessa brought with her gives me a dismissive look.

“You sound jealous.”

Vanessa smiles.

The woman continues,

“Ethan takes Vanessa on business trips all the time. Everyone knows they’re together. If you want special treatment, find yourself a Managing Director too.”

Vanessa gives her a playful nudge.

“Diane, don’t say that. She might actually try to steal him.”

Diane Parker looks me up and down.

“With what?”

A few people laugh.

Then someone nearby says,

“Didn’t Ethan buy Vanessa a Porsche for her birthday?”

My attention snaps back.

A Porsche?

A few months ago, Ethan put a large charge on one of my credit cards.

When I asked about it, he told me he had secured a major consignment and needed to buy an expensive gift for the client.

I never questioned it.

Vanessa smiles wider.

Diane says,

“He spoils you.”

So that was the client gift.

A birthday present for her.

Vanessa reaches over and knocks my handbag off the counter.

“Stop standing there. Diane has a quarter-million-dollar jewelry consignment. Her time is worth more than yours.”

Diane bumps past me and takes the chair at the desk.

“If you don’t have serious money, move.”

I look at the folder in my hand.

Then I place it on the desk in front of them.

“Two hundred and fifty thousand?”

I tap the valuation packet once.

“The collection I came here to consign is worth fifteen million dollars.”