Chapter 1

At a yacht party, our social circle played a blindfolded game — find your husband by touch alone.

Blindfolded, I reached out and caught Oliver's hand immediately. All it took was the faint scent of cedarwood and oud on his cuff.

When I pulled off the blindfold, the crowd gasped with envy. "Oliver literally missed a heartbeat for you."

He kissed my forehead with such tenderness. So devoted. So perfect.

But I caught it — in the glass reflection on the tabletop, clear as anything — his other hand, hidden beneath the tablecloth, gripping the thigh of a single mother nearby. His thumb moved in slow, deliberate circles against her inner leg.

And she sat there, red lip caught between her teeth, eyes glistening as she stared back at him.

I didn't make a scene. I just laughed coldly and let go of his hand.

Later, after Oliver went bankrupt and ended up working as a waiter at a private club, he pushed open the door to a VIP suite — and found me there, pinned beneath the hands of the most powerful man in the room, his palm sliding up the hem of my dress.

Oliver dropped to his knees, eyes red, begging me to come back.

But Alistair just bit my earlobe, his voice low and rough: "Baby,make more noise, let your ex-husband hear you."