Chapter 1

I used to be Christian Sterling’s placeholder. But after years of breaking up and making up, Christian convinced me—and himself—that I was his true love. He claimed Summer Vance, his gilded muse, was ancient history.

Once the misunderstandings were cleared, we finally tied the knot in a lavish wedding.

But only a year into our marriage, I discovered he was still collecting memorabilia of his precious Summer.

And worse? I was just one of his many collectibles.

A leopard never changes its spots. So, I decided to pack my bags, drain his bank accounts, and run.

Traveling the world with over a hundred million dollars in my pocket sounds infinitely better than being the miserable Mrs. Sterling, doesn't it?

On our first wedding anniversary, I spent four hours slow-cooking Christian's favorite organic chicken broth.

I stood in the dining room, looking up at our wedding portrait on the wall. In the photo, Christian’s eyes were filled with an intense, melting tenderness.

Everyone in our social circle said I, Vivian Lane, must have won the husband lottery. They said it was a miracle I went from being Summer’s cheap replacement to the official Mrs. Sterling.

It was no secret in high society that Christian had an ex-girlfriend he loved to his very bones: Summer Vance.

After Summer moved abroad, Christian met me. Because my eyes and brows looked about seventy percent like hers, he began to pursue me with a near-obsessive intensity.

I had suffered and struggled because of it. I even tried to cut ties completely.

But Christian’s gentle, relentless affection was suffocatingly perfect. After breaking up and getting back together more times than I could count, my heart finally softened.

He would drive thirty miles in the dead of winter just to deliver a hot matcha latte to my office when I worked late.

He would cancel million-dollar contracts just to stay by my side at the hospital when I caught a fever.

And when his elitist parents looked down on my family background, he held my hand firmly and declared to the media, "I’m marrying Vivian, and no one else."

He proved with his actions that I wasn't anyone's shadow.

He loved me. Vivian.

At our wedding, he slipped a massive diamond ring onto my finger, kissed the back of my hand with absolute devotion, and choked up. "Vivian, thank you for finally showing me the way home."

At that moment, I believed I was the happiest woman alive.

Our first year of marriage was pure bliss.

He spoiled me like a princess, granting my every whim.

I truly believed that the chapter about his gilded muse had been closed forever.

Until today.

In his private study, I found a beautifully wrapped velvet box.

It was palm-sized, emerald green, and tied with a silver silk ribbon. It looked incredibly expensive.

My heart began to hammer against my ribs.

Was this our anniversary gift? But he had already given me a diamond tennis bracelet this morning.

With trembling fingers, I untied the ribbon.

The box clicked open. Inside lay a necklace.

It was a platinum chain with a small, intricately carved crescent moon pendant.

It was stunning, but it wasn't my style at all.

I only wore minimalist, geometric jewelry. Christian knew this; every gift he bought me always aligned perfectly with my aesthetic.

The smile froze on my face.

Could it be...?

I stared at the crescent moon, and a name screamed in my head—Summer.

Summer Vance was obsessed with anything related to the moon and stars.

I remembered seeing an old photo of her. On her wrist, she had worn a moon-shaped bracelet.

A cold shiver ran down my spine, making me shake violently.

Suddenly, the front door clicked. Christian was home.

As if burned, I snapped the box shut and shoved it back into the depths of the drawer.

I rushed out of the study, forcing a natural smile. "You're home! Go wash your hands, dinner is almost ready."

Christian walked up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. "Nothing beats coming home to you. That broth smells amazing. You're the best, Vivian."

His warm breath brushed against my ear, but I couldn't stop myself from trembling slightly.

At the dinner table, I acted casual. "Oh, by the way, I stopped by your office today. I noticed your assistant was wearing a new bracelet. A moon shape. Is that style trending lately?"

Christian’s hand paused mid-air. "Oh, that? It was just a corporate gift from a vendor. They sent a bunch to her department. Just some cheap retail stuff, I didn't really look at it."

He spoke too fast, too smoothly. It sounded like a script he had rehearsed a thousand times in his head.

My heart sank into a cold, dark abyss.

We had been together for three years and married for one. I thought I knew everything about him.

Yet, at this moment, I realized with terrifying clarity that Christian lied just as beautifully as he whispered sweet nothings.

That night, I blamed a headache and slept facing away from him.

At midnight, his phone screen lit up. A notification popped up.

I squinted, reading the text clearly in the dim light.

The contact name was: Luna 🌙