Chapter 3

The awards ceremony ended. The crowd dispersed.

I pulled on a baseball cap and a mask, slipped past the press, and made my way to the VIP lounge. I knew this hotel well.

The venue fee for tonight had been charged to Ethan's account last month, under the line item "laboratory space rental" -- approved by me.

The door to the lounge was slightly ajar.

I pushed it open. Vivian was sitting at the vanity mirror, touching up her makeup.

The boy named Noah was on the sofa, slamming a rare limited-edition Transformer toy against the cushions.

At the sound of my entrance, Vivian glanced at me through the mirror and frowned slightly.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?"

She looked me up and down -- faded jeans, plain black tee -- and made no effort to hide her contempt.

"I'm here for Ethan." My voice came out rough. Years of high-intensity livestreaming had done a number on my vocal cords.

Vivian turned around and let out a cold laugh.

"Another desperate patient's family member? Or some broke startup founder begging for funding?"

She stood up, smoothed out her starfield gown, and walked over to me, looking down at me like I was beneath her notice.

"Ethan is very busy. I manage his entire schedule. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

I looked at her -- specifically at the massive pink diamond on her ring finger.

It caught the overhead light and threw sharp, glittering sparks in every direction.

Your husband?

I slowly curled my hand into a fist, my nails pressing deep into my palm.

"Of course," Vivian said, arching an eyebrow, her tone drenched in self-satisfaction. "We've been married for five years. Our son is right there. Do you have a problem with that?"

Five years.

Ethan and I had been married for seven.

For all seven of those years, he'd told the outside world he was single. He said medical research demanded total purity of focus -- that investors would think he was distracted. He was also afraid that my identity as a "livestream shopping influencer" would drag down the image of his high-tech company.

To protect his reputation, I had never once mentioned his name in public.

Even my closest assistant thought I was just a single woman who worked herself to the bone.

Standing there looking at Vivian, I suddenly started to laugh.

The kind of laugh that brings tears to your eyes.

"What's so funny?" Vivian stiffened, her expression darkening.

"I'm laughing at you," I said. "You've been played for a fool, and you think you're the lady of the house."

Vivian's face changed. She swung her hand up to slap me.

"Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?!"

I caught her wrist mid-air and shoved it away.

She was wearing heels. She stumbled and nearly fell.

"Mom!" The little boy dropped his toy and ran over, wrapping his arms around Vivian's legs.

At that moment, the door to the lounge was shoved open.

"Vivian, the car's ready, we should --"

The words died in Ethan's throat.

He looked at me, standing in the middle of the room. Every trace of warmth and tenderness on his face vanished instantly, replaced by sheer, undisguised terror.

"L-Lily?"

Even his voice was shaking.