Chapter 1

Tags: Wife and Mistress Team Up, Undercover Revenge, Scumbag Bankrupted, Female Solidarity, Sweet Revenge

The boyfriend I loved with all my heart turned out to be a married piece of trash.

When I tracked down his house, his wife didn't scream at me. Instead, she named her price: "Two million dollars. Help me ruin him. Are you in?"

Hell yes! Why wouldn't I be?

Getting payback and walking away rich? That was the best deal on the planet.

So, I quit my job, went undercover at his company, and joined forces with his wife to push that arrogant jerk straight into the grave we dug for him.

Don't talk to me about love. Right now, I only care about cold hard cash and sweet revenge.

Valentine's Day.

Roses, champagne, and the warm traces of his lips still lingering on my collarbone.

The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom as Carter Vance washed away the fatigue of the day.

Everything was picture-perfect.

Until the phone he’d left on the nightstand buzzed, shattering the mood.

The screen lit up, and my eyes instinctively darted toward it.

[Lily's fever spiked to 103.6°F. Where the hell are you?]

Who was Lily? High fever?

My mind went completely blank. Maybe a niece? A younger cousin?

Then a second text popped up, completely annihilating every shred of denial I had left.

[Carter, what kind of father are you?! If you want a divorce, just say it!]

*Carter. Father.* Those words hit me like a slap to the face.

The man I’d been dating for three years was married. And had a kid.

In a split second, the romantic fairy tale he’d built for me crumbled to dust. The man who had sworn I was the only light in his life, the man who claimed he wanted to stay strictly child-free for me—he already had a family.

No wonder he was happy to be "child-free" with me. He already had a child.

The bathroom door creaked open.

Carter stepped out with a towel slung low around his waist, water droplets tracing the defined lines of his abs.

With his eyes half-closed, he habitually opened his arms toward me, his voice low, raspy, and infuriatingly sexy. "Chloe, come here. Give me a hug and blow-dry my hair."

Running on pure instinct, I tossed the phone back where it was and walked over, my limbs stiff as wood.

The hum of the blow-dryer was deafening. The warm air blew through his hair, but I felt nothing but ice coursing through my veins.

Suddenly, he scooped me up by the waist and threw me onto the soft mattress, his hot breath descending on me like a wave.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby." His kiss was aggressive, demanding and desperate.

A violent wave of nausea surged from my gut. I couldn't hold it down.

I shoved him off with all my strength.

"Your phone... it buzzed earlier," I stammered, scrambling for an excuse, my voice trembling. "It looked urgent."

A fleeting flicker of annoyance flashed across Carter's handsome face, but I caught it.

"What could possibly be more important than you?" He gave a low chuckle, his large hand sliding back onto my body. "Tonight, you're all mine."

Just as his fingers reached for the waistband of my shorts, his phone shrilled loudly, cutting through the heavy tension in the room.

Carter’s expression darkened instantly.

I scrambled off the bed, grabbed the cursed phone, and shoved it into his face, a defiant glint in my eyes that even I didn't fully realize was there.

He glared at me, snatched the phone from my hand, and stormed onto the balcony, slamming the sliding glass door shut behind him.

I couldn't hear what he was saying. I could only see the stiff, frantic tension in his back.

A few minutes later, he came back inside, fully dressed.

"Something urgent came up at the office. I have to head over right now." He leaned down to kiss me, but I instinctively turned my head away.

He froze for a second, then muttered, "Be good. Wait for me to come back."

The moment the front door clicked shut, the entire world went dead silent.

Two hours later, at two in the morning, my best friend—an ER nurse at the downtown hospital—called me.

"Chloe! I just saw Carter! He ran into pediatrics drenched in sweat, holding a little girl, with an exhausted-looking woman trailing right behind him! The little girl... she wouldn't stop crying and screaming for her daddy!"

The line went dead. I collapsed onto the floor.

I was the other woman.