Chapter 1

My husband, Ethan Grant, was photographed looking far too intimate with his young assistant, Lily Hart, during a business trip.

The photos went viral the moment they dropped, rocketing straight to the top of every trending list.

The image Ethan had spent years cultivating—the devoted husband, the perfect CEO—collapsed overnight. Grant Group's stock price tanked for days straight, and the board members and the Grant family couldn't sit still any longer.

They came to me in shifts. They said the company couldn't afford a scandal. I was Ethan's wife. I needed to think about the bigger picture.

So I recorded a statement, exactly the way they asked.

In the video, I smiled and spoke clearly, word by word:

"There is no third party in my marriage with Ethan Grant. The relationship between Ethan and his assistant, Ms. Lily Hart, as circulated online, is simply that they furnished a cozy apartment together at Lakeview Tower."

"My three miscarriages over the past five years were all accidents. They were in no way caused by Ethan losing bets with Ms. Lily and, to amuse her, arranging for them to happen."

"On our wedding anniversary, Ethan traveled with his assistant to a hot spring resort in Japan purely for work purposes. Ethan's monthly jewelry purchases for Ms. Lily are standard business gifts."

"I gave my grandmother's heirloom jade pendant to Ms. Lily entirely of my own free will."

"As for the intimate photographs now circulating online, I maliciously edited and fabricated them."

"I hereby offer my sincere apology to Ms. Lily Hart."

Less than a minute after the video went live, Ethan—who'd been unreachable for days—sent me a message.

"Emma Reed. Delete it. Now. Or when I get back, you know what happens."

I looked at the screen and let out a short laugh.

Then I replied: "Then I won't wait for you to get back."

I'd barely set the phone down when the staff member beside me spoke in a low voice:

"Ms. Reed, your reinstatement application has been approved. Due to the nature of the position, please confirm that you are not legally married and not pregnant before departure."

I nodded.

"Thank you."

After they left, I sat alone in the walk-in closet.

An open suitcase lay in front of me. Inside were a few changes of clothes and an old photo album.

The phone screen kept lighting up.

The "statement" had been live for barely forty minutes, and the comments had already broken a million.

Seven of the top ten trending topics were about me.

#EthanGrantBetCausedEmmasMiscarriage

#EmmaReedApologizesToLilyHart

#EthanGrantPerfectHusbandImageCollapsed

I scrolled through them one by one.

"Isn't Ethan Grant supposed to be the famously devoted husband? What kind of horror story is this?"

"Standard business gifts of jewelry? Is Grant Group a charity?"

"Grant Group doesn't even have a branch in Japan. What business trip?"

"Someone dug it up—the hot spring resort they went to is a couples-themed hotel."

"Voluntarily gave her grandmother's heirloom jade pendant to the other woman? Emma Reed, were you threatened?"

"I've been in entertainment journalism for ten years, and I've never seen anyone write 'my husband is scum' inside a statement that's supposed to be clearing his name. Emma, are you calling for help?"

I stared for a moment, then smiled faintly.

They weren't wrong. I was calling for help. Just not to them.

Every sentence in that statement—outsiders couldn't decode it. But Ethan could.

From the moment it went live, there was no going back for us.

The phone buzzed again. A private message from an anonymous account.

Just one line:

"Ms. Reed, upon verification, the marriage registration documents held by you and Mr. Ethan Grant have been confirmed as forged."

I froze.

When I first noticed the signs, I thought I'd already braced myself.

But the moment I saw it confirmed, my eyes still burned.

So for all five of those years, even the title "Mrs. Grant" had been a lie.