Chapter 1
The Chicago wind bit through my coat as I fumbled with my front door key.
I was two days early.
I’d closed a $20 million deal in New York a full 48 hours ahead of schedule, and all I could think about was surprising my girls.
Lily, seven. Mia, five.
The only two people in the world that mattered.
The house was dead quiet when I stepped inside.
No squeals of “Daddy!” No tiny feet thundering down the hall.
Only a low, thumping bass vibrating up through the floorboards from the basement.
I dropped my leather bags by the door. My throat was dry from the flight, so I headed for the kitchen first.
That’s when I saw them.
My girls.
Huddled over the counter like they were hiding something.
Lily was picking at a slice of bread.
Green fuzz curled along the crust.
Mia sat on the edge of the counter, her legs swinging, her big eyes glistening with tears. She had a crumb stuck to her chin.
My heart stopped.
I dropped to my knees so fast my joints ached.
“Baby,” I said, my voice cracking. “Where did you get that?”
Lily flinched.
Full body, like she was waiting for a hand to come down on her.
My blood turned to acid.
“Olivia said this is all we get till you come home,” she whispered, not looking at me.
Olivia.
My wife of three months.
The woman I’d married because I thought she’d be a mother to my girls after their mom died.
The woman I’d left with an envelope full of cash thick enough to feed a family of four for a month.
Plus my black card.
No limit.
I heard high, sharp laughter from downstairs.
Careless.
Happy.
“Stay here,” I told the girls. My hands were shaking so bad I had to grip the counter to stand. “Don’t move. I’m right back.”
I walked down the basement steps slow.
The rec room door was cracked open.
Light spilled out into the hall.
I pushed it open.
The music cut off like someone had flipped a switch.
Olivia was in the middle of the room.
She wore a silver sequined gown I’d never seen before. Diamonds dripped from her neck, her ears, her wrists—sparkling enough to blind you.
Her sister, Chloe, was next to her, holding a champagne flute.
On the table between them:
A $500 bottle of Dom Pérignon, half empty.
Stacks of new Gucci and Chanel boxes, tall enough to reach my hip.
Price tags still hanging off some of them.
Olivia spun around.
Her face went white for half a second.
Then she pasted on that bright, fake smile I’d started to hate.
“Daniel! You’re home early! We were just getting ready for your welcome home party—”
“Where’s the food I left for the girls?”
I didn’t raise my voice.
I never did.
That always scared people more.
She laughed. High, tinny, fake.
“Oh, you know how picky kids are. They turned up their noses at the lobster I made. I’m not going to force them to eat, Daniel.”
“They’re eating moldy bread, Olivia.”
Her smile slipped. Just a little.
“Don’t be ridiculous. They probably dragged it out of the trash to get attention. You know how dramatic they are.”
I took a step toward her.
The diamond necklace around her throat cost more than most people’s houses.
I’d bought it for her for our first Christmas together.
Stupid.
So stupid.
“I gave you my card to stock the house,” I said. “To take care of my daughters. To feed them. To love them.”
She rolled her eyes.
All pretense gone.
“Please, Daniel. They’re not my kids. Why should I waste my time or your money on two little brats who don’t even respect me?”
That’s when I heard the tiny footsteps on the stairs behind me.
I turned.
Lily was standing in the doorway.
She was holding Mia’s hand so tight her knuckles were white.
Mia was clutching her half-eaten slice of moldy bread to her chest like it was a teddy bear.
“Daddy,” Lily said.
Her voice was so small it almost didn’t carry over the hum of the fridge down the hall.
“Olivia said if we told you we were hungry, you’d get mad and never come home again.”
Olivia’s face twisted into a snarl.
“You little liar—”
I held up a hand.
She shut up instantly.
She knew that look.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket.
My thumb hovered over the contact I’d saved for emergencies.
Mark.
My lawyer.
The man who’d drafted my ironclad prenup.
Olivia’s eyes went wide when she saw the name on my screen.
“Daniel, wait, baby, I can explain—”
That’s when Mia spoke up.
Quiet as a mouse.
“Daddy? Olivia told Chloe last night that when you die, all your money is hers. And we have to go live in a cardboard box by the highway.”
I didn’t look at Olivia.
I pressed call.
Mark picked up on the first ring.
“Mark,” I said. My voice was steady as stone. “I need you at my house in twenty minutes. Bring the divorce papers. And two uniformed police officers.”
Olivia screamed.
She lunged for the phone, her sequins scratching my arm.
I stepped back out of her reach.
And that’s when I saw it.
Tucked under the champagne bottle.
Half hidden by a blue silk scarf.
A life insurance policy.
On me.
May you like
For fifty million dollars.
The sole beneficiary: Olivia Carter.
