Chapter 1

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my husband, Julian Vance, spent forty million dollars at a charity gala to buy back my late mother’s diamond necklace.

But the moment he secured it, he turned around and gently fastened it around the neck of his first love, Blair Sterling.

He even took the elite medical team reserved for my life-saving treatment and handed them over to her—just because she had slightly sprained her ankle.

He looked at me and said, "Sera, you’ve always been the strong, rational one. Blair is terrified of pain. Don’t pick a fight with her over this."

Clutching my terminal cancer diagnosis in my cold hand, I felt an exhausting, bone-deep weariness wash over me.

My time was running out. I wouldn’t fight her for him anymore.

The lights of the grand ballroom were blindingly bright.

I sat in the audience, my fingers ice-cold as I tightly gripped the thin piece of paper in my purse—a diagnosis of late-stage glioblastoma.

On stage, the auctioneer slammed his gavel down with ecstatic energy.

"Forty million! Congratulations to Mr. Vance for winning this stunning diamond necklace, 'The First Snow'!"

The room erupted into thunderous applause. Every eye in the house turned toward the front row, admiring the tall, devastatingly handsome man in a tailored tuxedo.

Julian Vance.

My husband. My love of ten years, and my partner in a seven-year marriage.

That necklace was my late mother’s most treasured possession. I had been forced to pawn it three years ago when my family’s business collapsed.

Julian had promised me that tonight, he would bring it back home. He said it would be our seventh-anniversary gift.

I watched him stand up and accept the velvet box from the stage hostess. A fragile, hopeful smile began to form on my lips, and I prepared to stand and greet him.

But Julian didn't walk toward me.

He turned, walked straight past my row, and went to the other side of the room where Blair Sterling sat, her eyes red and watery.

Under the stunned gaze of the entire high-society crowd, Julian personally draped the necklace—the one carrying all my memories of my mother—around Blair's neck.

"You had a scare today, Blair. Consider this a little gift to soothe your nerves."

His voice, transmitted through the microphone, was deep, gentle, and echoed clearly throughout the massive hall.

Blair covered her mouth, tears trembling on her eyelashes as she leaned delicately into his chest. "Julian, this is too expensive... Won't Sera be angry?"

"She won't." Julian didn't even glance back at me. His voice was dismissive, utterly cold. "It’s just a necklace. She’s not that petty."

I sat frozen in my seat. Around me, the whispers of the guests began to pierce my ears like poisoned needles.

"Oh my god, the poor Mrs. Vance. Her husband just gifted a priceless heirloom to his ex right in front of her."

"Everyone knows Julian only has eyes for Blair. Seraphina is just a placeholder."

Suddenly, a sharp, blinding pain stabbed through my brain, as if a chainsaw were ripping through my nerves.

I gasped and quickly covered my nose. A warm, thick liquid flowed out without warning.

Blood.

It dripped rapidly through my fingers, staining my custom white gown. It was a horrifying contrast.

I didn't make a sound. Trembling, I pulled a handful of tissues from my clutch, pressed them hard against my face, and stumbled out of the hall through the back exit under the mocking stares of the crowd.

Outside, the freezing winter wind slapped my face like a whip.

I looked back through the glass doors at the glittering hall. Julian was leaning down, tenderly adjusting a wrap over Blair's shoulders, treating her like fragile porcelain.

"Julian," I whispered his name, my mouth filling with the bitter, metallic taste of blood.

Seraphina. My name meant burning fire, but my life had already burned down to the very end. I was about to become nothing but ash.

And he was still spending his millions to keep someone else warm.