Chapter 1

I loved Ethan Sterling for seven years, from seventeen to twenty-four, and became his most obedient mistress.

Until Olivia Hayes, the woman he had never gotten over, came home.

“Claire, you’re just my personal assistant. I’ve always thought of you as a friend.”

Seven years of devotion turned out to be nothing but a joke.

I burned every photo of us, threw out the luxury gifts he had given me, and decided to move to New Zealand—to disappear from his life for good.

Before I left, I told him in front of his entire family:

“Ethan Sterling, I could end up with anyone. But never you.”

He thought I was just throwing a tantrum. He had no idea that this time, I truly didn’t want him anymore.

Claire’s POV

When I woke up, a strong arm was still draped across my waist.

His steady breath brushed the hollow of my neck, carrying the faint scent of tobacco and mint.

I looked at the handsome man beside me.

Seven years.

From seventeen to twenty-four, I had given the best years of my youth to Ethan Sterling.

Everyone in New York knew the Sterling heir was a playboy. No one knew that for the past seven years, there had only been one constant woman in his life: Claire Bennett.

I was the mistress who came whenever he called, the nurse who stayed up all night when he was sick, the shield who drank for him at business dinners, and the only sign of warmth in this cold apartment.

I had always thought he kept us secret because his family was too strict, because he needed more time to take over the family business.

I could wait.

And today, I thought my wait was finally over.

“Awake?” Ethan’s voice was rough with sleep. He withdrew his arm, sat straight up, and grabbed a shirt. There was no tender good-morning kiss.

I fought back a smile and asked softly, “Should I get a gift for dinner tonight?”

His fingers paused on a button. Through the full-length mirror, he glanced casually at me on the bed. “No need. My mother arranged it as a date. Olivia’s back in the country.”

Something exploded inside my head, shattering the little happiness I had felt.

Olivia Hayes. The girl Ethan had loved in high school. The one he had never been able to have, or let go.

When Olivia moved abroad three years ago, Ethan drank himself into a stomach hemorrhage. I had stayed at his hospital bedside for three days and nights without rest.

“A date?” My voice trembled. “You’re going on a date with Olivia? Then why… do you want me there?”

Ethan turned around, frowning slightly. “She just got back. She’s out of touch with everyone in our circle. You can keep the conversation going. And if any of the older relatives try to get her to drink, take the drinks for her.”

He studied my face. Perhaps deciding he had sounded too harsh, he added casually, “Having you there will show my mother I’m taking the whole setup seriously, too. Use your head. Don’t make Olivia uncomfortable.”

Every word was about Olivia.

I tasted blood in my throat and forced it down. My eyes burned as I stared at the man who had been sweating over me just last night. “Ethan, you want me to go on your date and drink for her? Then what am I to you?”

His hand stopped halfway into his suit jacket.

A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes before they turned cold again.

“What’s gotten into you today, Claire? Why the attitude?” He came over and patted my cheek, as if soothing a pet.

“Haven’t we had a good arrangement these past seven years? You’re my personal assistant. Haven’t I paid you enough? The bags, the jewelry?”

Personal assistant.

A woman in his bed to satisfy his needs.

Seven years of love. Seven years of swallowing my feelings and waiting. In his mouth, it all came down to that one simple label.

I didn’t move away from his hand. I just felt cold.

I looked at his flawless, handsome face, and for the first time, he seemed like a complete stranger.

“I understand.” My voice was strangely calm. Not a ripple in it.

I threw back the covers, walked barefoot into the bathroom, and slammed the door. The moment the lock clicked, my legs gave out, and I sank onto the cold tile.

I bit the back of my hand to keep from making a sound, but the tears had already broken free.

Outside, in the bedroom, Ethan made a phone call.

“Yes, the restaurant at the Grand Hyatt… The flowers are ordered. Right, confirm with the florist again. Olivia only likes white Ecuadorian roses. No other colors, and make sure every thorn is removed. She’s sensitive to pain…”

I leaned against the freezing wall and looked at myself in the mirror—red, swollen eyes, a complete wreck.

Then I laughed.

After seven years inside a dream, it was finally time to wake up.