He threw money on the bed after our one-night stand.
I threw it back in his face at his own inauguration.
By sundown, we were engaged. By the week's end — married.
Franklin Flemington needed a wife to secure his empire. I needed a miracle to save my family. For two years, we played our parts flawlessly — the golden couple the whole city envied.
Behind closed doors, I was invisible to him.
When the two years were up, I handed him divorce papers without blinking.
He stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "I've given you everything a husband should. What more do you want from me, Octavia?"
I smiled, signed my name, and walked out.
I thought that was the end. I thought I'd finally won.
I forgot one thing — Franklin Flemington has never lost anything in his life. And he has no intention of starting with me.
Game on.

I didn't go back to the party. I couldn't. Every time I closed my eyes, the ghost of that image played on the back of my eyelids like a grotesque film reel: Franklin and Bella, caught in a state of indecent, feverish passion. It wasn't just the betrayal that burned; it was the ease of it.


 The way they looked together, they looked…natural, frantic, and real while every second of my life with him was a choreographed performance.


My spirit felt as though it had been put through a paper shredder. I wanted to howl, to break the expensive crystal vases lining the hallway, to scream until the Hamptons' elite heard the truth. 


Instead, I stood on the darkened terrace of Frederick's vacation home, the cold Atlantic wind whipping my hair into a tangled mess. I had wept until my throat was raw, but now, the tears had dried into a salty crust. 


Chapter 21 - ~ 21