my phone was a

ed my husband, Julian Vance, the cold, untouchable tech CEO, standing in a small, cluttered art studio. His hand rested on

s smi

. It was a small, genuine curve of his lips, somethi

ive years, a partnership that was more about business and appearances than affection. I knew Julian w

s wr

e: "Lily Chen. Struggling artist.

ogies gala, a massive event that celebrated our latest achievements. I was supposed to st

my designer gown feeling like a costume. I found Julian near the stage, talking to a

his voice smooth and lo

t smil

to talk,

w, a flicker of ann

. We have

ed, my voice hard

secluded balcony overlooking the city lights. The co

e asked, his back to me as

picture of him and Lily

his

t, he said nothing. He just stood there, a silhouette against

now," he

was more chilling than an

I asked, my

ily Chen. It do

me! We are mar

face me. His eyes w

rangement, Scarlett. You knew t

it was more

document from his jacket pocket and handed it to me. "I was going

ous package, including several prime properties in Silicon Valley. It

s," I said, crumpling

ing no room for argument. "I want h

if I r

e, cold ruthlessness that I had seen him

difficult, Scarle

I. He poached our top engineers, sabotaged our biggest contracts, and spread rumors that sent our sto

ction I had, but it was like trying to stop a

day afternoon. I received a call fr

s voice devoid of any emotion. "They are safe

dark, damp room. They looked terrified. My mother was crying silen

papers on the passenger seat. I ran into his office

ed on a large screen. Lily Chen was sitting on the couch, lo

ian ordered, poi

t. But as my pen touched the paper, Julian looked at the screen a

No

oom. Before I could even scream, they killed

thought was of the utter, so

ed, my eyes

eamed through the windows. My phone was b

tion from my priv

It was the picture of Juli

y. The day it all