Chapter 1

During the seventh year of my secret relationship with Brandon Vance, we attended our firm's annual ski retreat in Aspen.

During the team lottery, he cheated so he could pair up with Hailey Thorne, his first love who had just returned to the country.

In front of everyone, he handed my custom heated gloves to Hailey and said softly, "You get cold easily. Put these on."

The crowd went wild, cheering about how they were "meant to be."

I didn’t say a word. Instead, I quietly accepted the blue draft card handed to me by Julian Sterling, a man notorious in the venture capital world for his ruthless, cold-blooded tactics.

Late that night, Brandon sent me a text: "Don’t throw a tantrum. This is just a test to see if you’re mature enough to handle being Mrs. Vance."

At that exact moment, I threw the seven-year anniversary watch I had custom-ordered for him straight into the deep snow.

If anyone wanted to be the future Mrs. Vance, they could have the job. I was officially done.

The snow in Aspen was heavy, but the heating inside the luxury chalet was so intense it made my skin itch.

I stood on the outermost edge of the crowd, watching Logan Miller carry a raffle box to the center of the grand hall.

"Alright, everyone! The rules for this year's backcountry ski rally have changed!" Logan yelled excitedly, scanning the room. "Co-ed pairs, blind draw! If you pull the same color, you’re locked in. For the next three days and two nights in the wilderness, you survive together!"

Whistles and cheers immediately erupted throughout the hall.

The investment banking world is small. These men and women, usually suffocating in tight suits, loved nothing more than a little forced proximity and thrill in the wild.

Hailey Thorne, wrapped in an expensive white mink coat, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold, shrank timidly behind Brandon.

The corner of Brandon’s mouth ticked upward. His tall frame shifted subtly, shielding her from the draft near the door. "Don't worry," he murmured, his voice deep and reassuring. "I’ve got you."

"Oh, look at Brandon already playing the knight in shining armor! The rest of us better watch out on the slopes. Don't run into his princess, or Brandon will have our heads!"

The teasing grew louder and louder.

I lowered my eyes, my hand stuffed deep into my coat pocket. My fingers tightly gripped the blue plastic card I had just drawn.

No one knew that ten minutes before the game started, I had been standing near the second-floor stairwell. I had heard Logan whisper to Brandon:

"Brandon, I marked the red cards. They're at the very bottom right of the box. I kept them special for you and Hailey. That's the best I can do for you, man."

And Brandon had merely given a casual, confident grunt in response.

In our seven years of dating, he had never once acknowledged my existence in public.

Before this trip, he had even asked me to book economy class while he flew first class. His excuse? "People at the firm talk too much, Chloe. For our future, we need to keep our distance."

And I had believed him.

I genuinely thought that once this retreat was over and he was officially promoted to Managing Partner, he would fulfill his promise from seven years ago—to make our relationship public and propose to me.

But now, he was walking toward the raffle box.

His long fingers reached in, pulling out the marked red card with absolute precision.

A second later, Hailey "coincidentally" pulled out a red card as well.

"Oh my god—red! A perfect match!" Logan clapped, and the entire room erupted.

Hailey’s face flushed red. She looked up at Brandon with watery, sparkling eyes. "Brandon, it looks like I’m going to be a burden to you for the next three days. I’m still such a terrible skier..."

"It's fine," Brandon said, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. He untied his cashmere scarf and wrapped it gently around her neck. "I’ll teach you. Just follow my lead."

At that moment, my heart felt like it had been plunged into the freezing Colorado snow.

That scarf... I had spent three months knitting it for him, stitch by stitch.

I took a deep, shaky breath, pushing down the bitter taste in my throat, and raised my blue card.

"Who has the blue card?" I asked. My voice wasn't loud, but in the suddenly quiet room, it carried perfectly.

Everyone’s eyes snapped to me.

Logan blinked, trying to laugh it off. "Chloe, tough luck. Blue is the extreme backcountry route. It's the most dangerous. Want me to swap it for you?"

"No need," I cut him off, my gaze sweeping the room.

Hearing my voice, Brandon raised his head. Our eyes met through the crowd.

His brow furrowed, his eyes flashing with a familiar, warning look that said: "Don't start acting up now."

Just then, a cool, deep voice drifted over from the corner sofa.

"I have it."

The crowd turned, gasping collectively.

The man sitting in the corner stood up. He wore a minimalist black ski jacket. He was tall, with sharp, striking features, and carried an aura of absolute authority that warned everyone to stay away.

It was Julian Sterling.

The youngest, most ruthless venture capital titan on Wall Street, and the primary sponsor of this entire retreat.

He walked over to me, opening his palm. A blue card lay quietly in his hand.

"Looks like we're partners, Chloe."