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 had to be strong. That was the mantra I repeated until the words lost their meaning and became nothing more than a hum in my blood. I refused to let my mind drift back to the image of the beautiful, guarded woman in Clinton's apartment—the woman who occupied the space in his heart that I had spent a lifetime trying to earn. Clinton had hurt me. That was an objective fact, a cold reality I had to pack away like winter clothes I no longer needed.


When I had returned to the estate the night of his birthday, my mother was waiting, her face alight with maternal curiosity. I had forced a smile so bright it made my face ache, weaving a lie about a wonderful celebration. I couldn't tell her the truth. I couldn't bear to see that look of pity in her eyes, the one that said she'd always known I was chasing a ghost.


Chapter 183 - ~ 183