Chapter 1

When a stylist at a Las Vegas salon said my hair looked healthier than Celia Norwood's, my husband's childhood friend grabbed the clippers and shaved my head.

Instead of apologizing, Celia posted the video online with the caption: "Leander's got my back. If I'm pissed off, I can shave his wife's head."

Leander even chimed in under the post.

"As long as you're happy, go for it. Shave her head, shave her eyebrows too—I don't care."

My hair was insured for thirty million dollars, and to them, it was just another punch line.

I wasn't about to let that slide. I grabbed a pair of clippers and went straight to Celia.

Leander rushed over, pulled her into his arms, and snapped, "Celia was already miserable because everyone kept saying your hair was better than hers. So what if she shaved your head to blow off some steam?"

"Apologize to Celia right now, or we're getting divorced!"

That was the hundred-and-first time Leander had chosen Celia over me—and used divorce to keep me in line.

My phone lit up with an iMessage from Gideon Westcott, my childhood friend.

"Annelise, I've waited eight years. Please divorce him and marry me."

For the first time, the idea of choosing someone else didn't sound so bad.

This time, I gave Leander a different answer.

"Fine. Let's get divorced."

...

Leander hadn't expected me to say yes.

His eyes widened. "Don't be dramatic. I might actually hold you to that."

"It's hair, Annelise. You're really blowing up our marriage over that?"

"Celia only did it because she feels close enough to you to joke around. Otherwise, why would she pick you?"

I laughed.

Something small?

My hair was insured for thirty million dollars.

"Then I'm close enough to return the favor."

I stepped toward Celia with the clippers raised.

Her face went white, and she pressed closer against Leander.

He snatched the clippers out of my hand.

"Enough. Go home and cool off. If you scare Celia again, you'll answer to me."

Celia edged out from behind him, pale but determined to look brave.

"Annelise, I took the joke too far. If shaving my head will make you feel better, then I'll let you do it."

Leander's face tightened with concern, and he wrapped his arms around her like I was the threat.

Then he looked at me. The concern vanished, replaced by open irritation.

"She apologized. What more do you want?"

"Do you need her dead before you're satisfied?"

Before he could react, I grabbed the clippers back and aimed them at Celia's hair.

So much for being willing. Celia screamed the second the clippers came near her.

"Leander, help me!"

Without thinking, Leander shoved me away.

He shoved too hard. The clippers hit the top of my foot and gouged away a chunk of skin.

Blood pooled fast on the floor.

Leander froze, guilt flashing across his face as he fumbled for what to do.

I clamped a hand over the wound. I wanted to cry, but nothing came.

Celia paled in alarm. "Annelise is bleeding a lot. She needs to get to the ER."

That snapped Leander out of his daze. He scooped me up and headed for the nearest ER.

Then Celia stumbled and fell.

"My ankle! It hurts so bad!"

Leander set me down without hesitation and scooped her up instead.

"Celia's always had a low pain tolerance. I'll take her to the ER first, then come back for you."

He didn't even wait for my answer before hurrying away with her in his arms.

Over his shoulder, Celia shot me a smug, triumphant look.

As Leander hurried past with Celia in his arms, his shoulder knocked me off balance.

The back of my head slammed against the edge of a step.

Pain burst through my skull. I reached behind my head and pulled my hand back slick with blood.

For the first time, I was scared.

I reached toward Leander's retreating back on instinct.

"Leander... help me..."

But all his attention was on Celia.

He never looked back.

Bitterness rose in my throat as I watched him disappear.

Pain came in waves. My vision blurred.

Then everything went dark.