Chapter 1

For our fifth anniversary, Elliot finally agreed to give me the wedding ceremony he'd promised me.

On the day of the wedding, out on the lawn at the Vance estate, he handed me a headset and a clipboard.

"You're the bride today. I want your entrance to be the one everyone remembers, so you'll come in last. Until then, I need someone to cover the front row. Help out for a minute."

I believed him.

The ceremony began. I was just about to step onto the runner when three women in the front row stood and shrugged off their coats in unison.

His childhood friend. His first love. His assistant.

They were all wearing wedding gowns.

Elliot walked out, dropped to one knee, and slid a ring onto each woman's finger in turn.

Someone yanked me aside, shoved a broom into my hands, and barked, "Hey, cleaning lady. Sweep up the confetti."

He never looked at me once.

Then I picked up a phone from one of the chairs. Its screen was open to a group chat with all four of them.

Margot: "I bet the wife watches the whole thing and doesn't make a sound. Just kneels there and finishes cleaning it up."

Vivian laughed it off: "What wife? She's a convenient fixture. Takes care of Elliot, handles his family. That's all."

Willa asked: "What if she asks for a divorce?"

Elliot: "She's a gold digger who married me for my money. Why would she ever divorce me?"

I kept scrolling.

Every anniversary he'd missed in five years was in that album, along with where he'd spent it.

Even on the day we signed our marriage license, they were already taking bets on how long it would take me to figure out what the four of them really were to one another.

Elliot: "She wants to be Mrs. Vance so badly, she could catch all four of us in bed and still pretend nothing happened."

I saved the chat and sent it to my lawyer.

"Draft the divorce papers."

…

Then I booked the next flight out.

On the way to the airport, Elliot called."The wedding isn't even over yet. Where are you?"

"Airport."

"You stormed off over one joke?"

I laughed in disbelief. "Elliot, you put rings on three women right in front of me—at our own wedding. What the hell do you take me for?"

He had no intention of apologizing.

"They've been by my side for years. They just wanted a wedding of their own. The dresses and rings were props; none of it was real. You're the only woman who's actually my wife."

"Your wife? Then why did they call me the cleaning lady and make me sweep up after your wedding?" I tightened my grip on the phone. "And that betting pool—how long were you planning to keep lying to me?"

"You found out?" He paused. "It was a joke. A little confetti. And you were on the payroll for the hour."

My phone buzzed. He'd sent me a wedding plan.

"Relax. The real one's been ready for a while. Three days from now."

I rejected it on the spot. "I don't want a wedding from you."

"Don't be stubborn."

He laughed it off. Then he wired a million dollars into our joint account.

"Everything's been arranged the way you like it. If there's any jewelry you still want, buy it yourself. Just show up on time in three days."

I hung up and opened the joint account to cancel the automatic transfer.

That's when I saw the line items.

Three rings. Three gowns. The entire ceremony. All of it out of that account.

Every dollar in there was mine. Five years of saving, all of it for this wedding.

He'd spent it putting on a wedding for the three of them, then wired in a million as if that settled what he'd taken from me.

I shut off the transfer and moved every dollar that belonged to me.

The car pulled up to departures. My phone pinged with a motion alert from the home-security system.

I opened the live feed.

Elliot came through the front door with Margot Pearce, Willa Shaw, and Vivian Hale. Each woman still wore her gown and had a suitcase behind her.

Margot looked around the living room and laughed.

"I won the bet, so the primary suite's mine tonight?"

Elliot said, "Mm."

Willa objected immediately. "Then where do we sleep?"

"Take a guest room."

Vivian glanced around. "And when Nora comes back?"

He laughed under his breath. "She's clearing her head. She'll calm down and come back to her senses."

Then he walked into the bedroom, came out with my pillow, and dropped it in the hallway.

He reached back for Margot's hand. They walked inside together, her train dragging over my pillow on the floor.

The door eased shut.

I saved the footage and the account statements and sent both to my lawyer.

"Get back everything that's mine."

They called my flight.

I picked up my bag and boarded the plane to Harbor Point.