/0/86624/coverbig.jpg?v=e279815d7444d28d832d590bb03c9c55)
The first sign of trouble arrived as a notification on my phone. It was a screenshot from my friend, Joanna, of my husband' s new executive assistant, Chloe Miller. She was smiling brightly, her hand touching a diamond necklace sparkling against her skin. A necklace I recognized immediately. It was the star piece from an auction Liam had attended two nights ago, two million dollars. He' d mentioned it was a "stunning piece of craftsmanship." He just failed to mention who he was buying it for. A quiet anger, cold and sharp, settled in my chest. This wasn't about jealousy; it was about respect. Our marriage was an arrangement, a merger of his new money ambition and my old money influence. The foundational rule was simple: public respect. Liam had just broken it. I scrolled through the comments, gushing over her "amazing boss." Chloe was actively fanning the flames of speculation. It was a deliberate, public provocation. I put my phone down, stood up, and walked calmly to the intercom. "Please have Liam' s car brought to the front," I said. My husband had forgotten who I was. My family hadn't built their empire by being passive. He was about to be reminded.