Chapter 1

"He didn't even read it?"

Talia's fork clattered onto her plate, the sharp sound slicing through the quiet atmosphere of the café. She stared at her best friend in horror. "Verity, you handed Caelum Vance divorce papers, and you're telling me he signed them without reading a single word?"

Verity Kerrigan stirred her cold coffee, her expression terrifyingly calm.

"He was busy. He thought it was just another acquisition contract for the merger. He signed his name, tossed it onto the 'completed' pile, and went right back to texting her."

"That bastard," Talia hissed, gripping the edge of the table. "Three years, Verity. You've been the perfect wife for three years. You nursed him when he was sick, you handled his family, you gave up everything... and he signs away your marriage like it's an invoice?"

Verity gave a faint, self-deprecating smile. The light in her eyes, usually so resilient, had finally dimmed.

"Does it matter?" Verity whispered, looking out the window where the rain had begun to blur the city lights. "I'm moving abroad in two weeks. By the time he realizes he's single, I'll be gone."

"But... does he really feel nothing?" Talia pressed, her voice trembling with indignation. "If he knew..."

"He doesn't know. And he doesn't care."

Two weeks ago, Verity had placed the document in front of him. Caelum Vance didn't even look up from his laptop. His mind, as always, was somewhere else—or rather, with someone else.

There were only two weeks left until the divorce became official. After that, their marriage—built entirely on her one-sided devotion and his misunderstanding—would finally be over.

The sudden buzz of her phone snapped Verity out of her thoughts.

"It's pouring out there," a deep, baritone voice said on the other end. It was Caelum. "Send me your location. I'll come pick you up."

She sent him the address mechanically.

A few moments later, a man in a long charcoal trench coat strode into the restaurant. He was undeniably handsome, with sharp features that seemed carved from cold marble. Rain soaked a patch across his broad shoulders, droplets clinging to the tips of his dark hair.

Talia opened her mouth, ready to scream at him, to demand how he could be so heartless, but Verity stood up before she could make a scene.

"I'll call you later," Verity said softly. She grabbed her coat and walked toward the man who was no longer her husband in anything but name.

During the drive back, the silence in the car was suffocating. The weather forecast droned on from the radio, static mixing with the sound of rain drumming against the roof.

"Verity," Caelum called out, his eyes fixed on the wet road. "What was that document I signed for you two weeks ago? The legal department couldn't find a copy."

His question hung in the air.

Two weeks. It took him two weeks to realize he might have signed something important. Then again, it wasn't surprising. When had Caelum Vance ever paid attention to anything regarding Verity Kerrigan? His heart was a fortress, and the only person with a key was Liora Davenport.

Verity pressed her lips together, debating whether to tell him the truth right then and there.

Just then, Caelum's phone rang through the car speakers.

A woman's voice filled the cabin, sugary and cloying, laced with a practiced vulnerability. "Caelum? It's thundering outside. I'm all alone, and the lights just flickered... I'm so scared. Can you come over?"

At the sound of that whining tone, Caelum's expression darkened instantly. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

His voice sharpened with warning. "Liora, I've told you. I'm a married man."

The line went quiet for a beat before Liora replied, completely unfazed and dripping with malice. "Have you forgotten? That title was supposed to be mine. Verity is just living the life I was meant to have. She's just a placeholder, Caelum."

Liora's words sent a visible surge of tension through Caelum. He bit his lip hard, a look of tormented conflict crossing his face.

For years, Liora had been the only woman capable of making the composed Caelum Vance lose his mind.

At the next traffic light, he suddenly swerved, changing lanes to take a different route—toward Liora's apartment.

"You know I have a weak heart," Liora continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If the thunder startled me and something happened... I don't know who else to call."

She broke off with a choked sob. "Never mind. I understand. I won't bother you anymore. I hope you two are happy."

The call ended.

The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush bones. Caelum abruptly pulled over to the shoulder, tires spraying water as the luxury car screeched to a halt.

He slumped forward, pressing his forehead against the steering wheel. After a long, agonizing moment, he let out a resigned sigh, pulled out his phone, and typed a short message.

I'll be there soon.

Verity watched him hit "send". Before he could struggle with an excuse, she beat him to it. Her voice was steady, devoid of the warmth she used to offer him.

"It's fine. Go. I'll find my own way back."

Caelum watched her open the car door and step into the downpour. When he saw her standing there, bracing herself beneath her umbrella against the biting wind, a flicker of guilt crossed his face.

"I'll come find you as soon as I'm done."

Verity stood in the rain, watching his taillights fade into the gray mist.

They were in the middle of nowhere, and the storm was worsening. The chances of catching a cab were slim to none.

Caelum must have regretted his youthful impulsiveness long ago.

The only reason he still bothered to play the role of a husband was out of lingering responsibility—or perhaps guilt. Whatever it was, Verity knew one thing for certain.

It wasn't love.