Chapter 1

I signed the divorce papers the same morning I found out I was carrying twins.

My husband of three years, Ethan Cross, didn't even look up from his phone. His secretary, Vanessa Moore, was perched on his desk in a dress that cost more than my monthly grocery budget.

"Finally," Ethan muttered as he slid the papers into a folder. "Vanessa, call my lawyer. Tell him it's done."

I stood in his corner office on the 40th floor of Cross Tower, the building I had helped him build from a bankrupt shell company into a billion-dollar empire. Three years ago, Ethan had nothing. I had poured my family inheritance — or what I believed was my full inheritance — into his startup, managed his accounts, negotiated with vendors, and slept on the office floor beside him during those early months.

Vanessa hadn't been there for any of that.

She arrived eight months ago, with her designer heels and her Harvard MBA and her father's connections to old money. Ethan changed overnight.

"You'll receive the settlement we agreed on," Ethan said, still not looking at me. "Two hundred thousand. That's more than generous for someone with your background."

My background. He meant that I was an orphan, raised by my grandmother in a small town in Vermont. No powerful family. No connections. No leverage.

That's what he thought.

"Two hundred thousand for three years and everything I gave you?" I asked quietly.

Ethan finally looked up. His jaw was sharp, his dark eyes cold — the same eyes that used to look at me like I was his entire world.

"Don't be dramatic, Serena. You were a good partner in the early days, but let's be honest — you're not cut out for the world I'm entering now. Vanessa's father is offering a merger that will make Cross Industries a top-five firm. I need a wife who matches that level."

Vanessa smiled at me. It was the kind of smile that said I already won.

My hand instinctively moved to my stomach. This morning, the doctor had confirmed what I'd suspected for weeks. Twins. A boy and a girl.

I almost told him. The words sat on the tip of my tongue.

But then Vanessa leaned over and whispered something in his ear, and he laughed — the same laugh he used to save just for me.

I swallowed the words whole.

"Fine," I said. "Keep your two hundred thousand. I don't want it."

For the first time, surprise flickered across his face. "What?"

"I said I don't want your money." I placed my copy of the signed papers on his desk. "I want nothing from you, Ethan. Consider this a clean break."

I turned and walked out of Cross Tower for the last time.

In the elevator, I pressed my hand against the wall to steady myself. My reflection stared back at me from the polished steel doors — pale face, dark circles under my eyes, trembling lips.

I allowed myself exactly ten seconds to fall apart.

Then I pulled out a phone — not the one Ethan knew about — and dialed a number I hadn't called in four years.

It rang twice.

"Serena." The voice on the other end was calm, deep, and carried the kind of authority that made billionaires nervous. "I was wondering when you'd call."

"Hello, Grandfather," I said. "I'm coming home."

There was a pause. Then: "I'll send the jet."

My name is Serena Aldrich. My grandmother didn't raise me because I was an orphan — she raised me because my grandfather, Victor Aldrich, was the most powerful man on the Eastern Seaboard, and he had enemies who would have used a child to get to him.

Ethan Cross thought he married a nobody.

He had no idea what he just threw away.