Three Years, A Shattered Reality With The Heir

From the back cover

Three years. Three years of marriage to Olivia Reed, the woman who redefined my world.

On our anniversary, I went to sign the final papers for our joint asset trust, a mere formality.

But the city clerk told me words that shattered my reality: "According to our records, you are not legally married to Olivia Reed."

My laughter died in my throat when she added, "There is a record of a marriage for Ms. Olivia Reed... to Alex Thorne. It was filed two years ago."

Alex Thorne. My protégé. The talented young architect I'd mentored, the man I trusted after our ceremony.

The wedding certificate, the grand gestures, the vows-all lies. Every single one.

I pieced it together: Olivia's sad eyes, her whispers of a "replacement" while I was overseas, her tears and apologies for being "paranoid" about Alex when I returned.

Now, I heard her cooing to him on the phone, "To him, I'm his devoted wife. To the world, you' re my husband. It' s a perfect arrangement. I have his love and your legal status. I have everything."

Everything. And I had nothing. I was a sham. A joke.

The love I felt, a towering structure, crumbled to dust. There was no rage. Just a cold, empty void.

Then, the sculpture crashed. Olivia chose him, shielding him, letting the heavy steel frame slam into me, crushing bones.

Lying broken in the hospital, I watched her dote on him while ignoring me. I realized she had intended to erase me.

This wasn't a mistake. This wasn't an accident. This was a brutal choice, a calculated punishment.

Ethan Miller, the trusting fool, was dead.

I decided then. I wasn' t confronting her. I was disappearing. And then, when she least expected it, I would take it all away.