Chapter 1

"Gigi, your husband's finally cheating on you."

Giselle Rutherford had barely touched down from her business trip when the message came through—one blunt line from her best friend Lara Hagan that landed like a grenade.

For a moment, her mind went silent, hollowed out by the impact. Then everything inside her cracked wide open.

Her phone chimed twice. Lara had sent a few more photos, rich with skin and sin.

Even if he were reduced to ashes, Giselle would still recognize him. Beneath him, the woman's face twisted in shameless ecstasy.

At last, he was with his childhood sweetheart. There was no denying it now.

The midsummer heat was stifling, yet cold sweat trickled down Giselle's spine. She stood frozen at the airport exit, unmoving until someone behind her urged her forward.

When she finally took a cab home, the villa was dark and empty.

At the sound of the door opening, Ginger came bounding down the stairs. It meowed at her, tail swaying, as if urging her to follow.

After dropping her luggage, Giselle followed Ginger upstairs. As she stepped into the bedroom, a glaring streak of red caught her eye, blooming like a flower against the pristine white sheets.

That lipstick shade wasn't hers. Jack Moore's childhood sweetheart had defiled the love nest Giselle once shared with him.

How disgusting.

Ginger leapt onto the bed and nosed under the pillow, retrieving two condoms in its mouth.

Giselle and Jack hadn't used those in ages, not since she'd started trying for a baby.

They had been married for three years, and he'd always refused to have a child. Now she understood. It wasn't that he didn't want children. He just never wanted to spend a lifetime with her.

A scoff slipped from her lips as her heart ached, as if it had cracked open.

They had endured three years of marriage and seven years together. And in the end? Their relationship had been nothing but a sick joke.

Giselle drifted back into the living room and dropped onto the couch, her eyes blank. One word pounded through her head—divorce.

Some things, once broken, just couldn't be fixed. Even if Jack came crawling back, full of apologies, she knew she wouldn't take him.

The well was poisoned, and once that happened, no one drank from it again.

Without a second thought, she started packing. The house her father, Howard Rutherford, had given her before the wedding had sat untouched for years. Now, it was time to make it home.

…

Jack stumbled into the house in the dead of night, completely wasted.

He lurched around upstairs, barely keeping his balance. Eventually, he found Giselle in the guest room. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then collapsed onto the bed next to her, out cold and snoring.

Giselle sat up and shoved him.

"Did you sleep with Cecilia?" she asked.

Jack's brain was swimming, but even through the fog, he knew this was the kind of question he couldn't afford to get wrong.

"No," he mumbled.

Giselle curled her lips into a cold smirk.

"Was Cecilia's waist soft?" she asked.

Too groggy to open his eyes, Jack mumbled, "Yeah."

"Did she smell good?"

He rolled over, annoyed.

"Yeah."

"Did you sleep with her?"

"No."

Jack was still lying through his teeth.

Giselle climbed out of bed and retrieved the printed divorce agreement. The terms were simple. She only wanted two billion dollars from him.

She yanked Jack upright and pressed a pen into his hand, her voice sugar-sweet. "Babe, sign this for me."

Still half-asleep, Jack didn't even open his eyes.

"Sign what?"

Giselle swallowed hard, forcing the words past the lump in her throat.

"I want to buy a house. I need your signature." She pointed helpfully at the blank line. "Right here."

Jack let out a sleepy mumble, eyes barely open. "We already have a dozen houses. How many more do you need?"

But he scribbled his name anyway. The moment the pen left the page, he dropped back onto the bed like a dead weight.

Just then, his phone rang, "Pouty Princess" flashing on the screen.

Giselle nearly gagged. When she picked up, Cecilia Evans' syrupy voice poured through the speaker.

"Jack, I can't sleep. I'm so used to having you beside me. So what if that old hag's back? What is there to be afraid of? We're getting married soon anyway."

"Oh?" Giselle shot back. "So you're dead set on being the side piece? Do you actually want to crawl into bed between us? Does that sound like a good look to you?"

Cecilia froze, then exploded. "You're shameless, Giselle! Jack and I are getting married. How dare you still crawl into his bed?"

"Married?" Giselle gave a light, mocking laugh. "Please. Without my blessing, you two won't get far. Maybe try getting on your knees and begging me?"

"How dare you!" Cecilia was so furious that she nearly screamed. "Who the hell do you think you are? Jack and I grew up together. You're the one who shoved yourself between us!

"What gives you the right to demand I kneel? After all these years of marriage, what have you ever done for him?"

Cecilia's father was one of the top political figures in Sherfield. Back in high school, she dated Jack, and everyone saw them as the perfect match—a seamless blend of political clout and corporate might.

Naturally, people assumed the princess would marry her prince. But after graduation, the fairytale ended. They broke up.

In college, Jack fell for Giselle, a woman with no connections and modest roots. They married after finishing school.

For seven years, Cecilia waited, but it was all for nothing.

But in the ruthless world of business, political backing was everything. With Moore Group and Cosmo Group battling over a military-industrial project, Cecilia finally spotted her chance to make a move.

Giselle let out a scornful laugh. "So what if you two grew up together? As long as I refuse to divorce him, you'll always be just his dirty little secret—the other woman."

She hung up before Cecilia could spiral into a meltdown.

Jack lay on the bed, still as a corpse. Overcome with frustration, Giselle gave him a hard kick.

That night, she slept in the study.

…

The next morning, Giselle woke to find Jack already gone. She got dressed in a rush and headed straight to work.

With so much to catch up on after her trip, she spent the entire day swamped with work. As she stepped out of the office that evening, she found Cecilia waiting by the exit.

Cecilia blocked her path, her tone firm. "We need to talk somewhere else."

Giselle gave a cold smirk. "A homewrecker should know her place. I have nothing to say to you."

"Divorce Jack now, and I'll forget the seven years you stole from me," Cecilia said.

Giselle scoffed. "Please, hold a grudge if you want. What, are you gonna turn back time? Even then, there's no guarantee Jack would've picked you."

"You'd better think this through, Giselle. Or you'll regret it. Crushing you would be easier than stepping on an ant."

"Then go ahead. Crush me!"

Cecilia might've been the daughter of a powerful politician, but Giselle had never seen her as a threat.

"Just wait. I'll have you crawling back, begging me through tears."

Giselle's tone was light, almost teasing. "Is that so? I'll be here."

Just then, a tall, striking man emerged from the building. He wore a black dress shirt, top button undone, his sharp features and piercing gaze giving off an effortless air of nobility.

He brushed past Giselle without a glance, but a few steps later, he paused. Then he turned, brow creased slightly as he looked her over.

"Are you in some kind of trouble?" he asked.

She shook her head, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "Nope."

Cecilia was all bark and no bite. She wouldn't dare go too far.

…

Jack disappeared for the next two days. There was no trace of him anywhere.

Giselle told herself she didn't care, but seven years of love wouldn't just disappear.

By the time the company outing came around that weekend, everyone else was laughing and having fun, except her. She sat off to the side, quietly drinking herself under the table.

Her head was too heavy to lift after she finished the entire bottle. That was when she saw a face both familiar and distant.

Chapter 2

Michael Zimmer eased into the seat across from Giselle, picked up his glass, and took a slow, deliberate sip before meeting her eyes.

"Rough day?" he asked.

Giselle's vision swam, his face blurring like she was looking at him through frosted glass. She grabbed her drink and knocked it back in one harsh gulp.

"I'm fine," she said.

Michael topped off her glass, added a splash to his own, and gave the amber whiskey a slow swirl.

"Need a hand with something?"

Giselle froze mid-motion, the glass suspended in her grip as a memory surfaced—the first time they met, when he'd asked if she was in trouble.

So he was one of those professional nice guys with a price tag.

She set the glass down, leaned in, and before she could stop herself, the words slipped out. "Do you come with a daily rate?"

Michael stilled, his dark eyes locking onto hers, deep and unreadable. Then, slowly, one brow lifted and a smirk tugged at his lips.

"Yeah. Monthly rates work too."

Giselle nodded, like that answer was exactly what she wanted to hear.

She had a feeling her divorce from Jack was going to be anything but easy, unless she broke him down completely. Which meant she needed a stand-in.

Michael, with his height, sharp features, and that quiet, refined arrogance, was even more magnetic than Jack ever was.

She leaned in, just a breath away, and lowered her voice. "Is it expensive?"

His lashes flicked. A slow smirk curved his lips.

"Depends on the service, Ms. Rutherford. Casual company's cheap. The bed? That'll cost you."

Giselle waved a hand, brushing it off. "Let's skip the bed part for now. Just your company will do."

Michael frowned. "So someone else is already handling the bed? Am I competing with another guy?"

Mid-sip, Giselle choked on her drink, coughing until her eyes watered.

Michael handed her a tissue.

After dabbing at her eyes, she said, "No, not at all. I'm married, but things are a little rocky right now. So I might need a stand-in. How long have you been in business?"

Michael paused, then let a smile slip.

"Not long. You're my first."

Giselle shot him a knowing look, her eyes full of quiet understanding.

"These days, the pressure on young people to make a living is brutal. A lot of them end up juggling side gigs. With a face like yours, it'd be a shame to let it go unnoticed."

Michael's gaze darkened, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

"You're not wrong. Every industry is cutthroat now. How about we swap numbers? If you ever need anything, I've got you."

"Sure."

After exchanging WhatsApp info, Michael stood with a smile and turned to go.

…

At 10:00 pm, Giselle came home to an empty house. Jack was still nowhere to be seen. The place was pitch-black, and only Ginger was there to greet her, meowing and weaving around her ankles.

She flipped on the lights, topped off Ginger's food bowl, and took a shower before collapsing into bed. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she slept like a rock.

By the time she stirred, the sun was already blazing at midday. Too sluggish to get up, she lay there in bed, lazily scrolling through her phone.

Then she opened Instagram. The first thing that popped up was a photo taken in bed. Cecilia curled on her side, clinging to someone's arm.

The caption read, "Something good is on the way. Bless me with your wishes!"

The arm in the photo was unmistakably a man's, and that mole on it erased all doubt—it was Jack. Below the post, the comments were pouring in, a tidal wave of congratulations.

Giselle's chest clenched like she'd been punched, her breathing turning ragged and shallow.

Their wedding had been quiet and low-key, just a simple dinner with both families.

Jack's mother had looked down on her from day one, dismissing her as some nobody from a small family who didn't deserve the Moore name. A real ceremony, she said, would only bring shame to the family.

Giselle's mother had died long ago, and with Howard always away, she was raised entirely by her aunt, Sarah Mercier.

Sarah had hoped to give her a proper wedding, but given who Howard was, they'd kept it quiet. In the end, barely anyone even knew Giselle and Jack were married.

Now, staring at the photo, Giselle felt frozen in place, her body gripped by a cold that sank deep into her bones. A storm of emotions swirled inside her, too many to name.

It was clear now. Their marriage was over.

…

After lunch, Giselle called Jack, hoping he might come home that evening for one last dinner—a quiet goodbye to the seven years they'd spent together.

Things hadn't ended perfectly, but once upon a time, they had loved each other with everything they had. They'd gotten each other through the worst of it.

And even if it was over now, she still wanted to honor what they'd shared before she let it go for good.

Unfortunately, he didn't pick up.

So she sent a message instead. "Jack, come home for dinner tonight. I'm making your favorites. It's been too long since we sat down together."

But there was no response. It felt like her text had disappeared into a void.

Half an hour later, she tried calling him again. This time, he finally answered.

"I saw your message, Gigi. I was busy earlier. I'll try to make it back tonight," Jack said.

Busy with what? Fucking someone else?

Giselle's nose stung, and a heaviness pressed down on her chest like a weight she couldn't shake. The bitterness rose in her throat, but her voice came out calm, like always.

"Okay. Just come home early. I'll be waiting."

Maybe this would be the last time she ever waited for Jack. But he didn't have a clue.

"Alright, if I'm running late, just go ahead and eat without me," he said.

"I'll wait," Giselle replied, her voice firm.

Then came a voice that sliced through the phone like a needle to the eardrum, sweet and high-pitched, unmistakably Cecilia.

"Jack, come on! Dad's getting annoyed!"

He scrambled to hang up, clearly flustered.

Giselle clutched her phone, her mind a blur.

Were they moving at rocket speed or what? Jack was already meeting Cecilia's parents? Did he seriously not care that this was basically bigamy?

Sure, the thoughts ran through her mind, but she knew better than to bother with them. Trying to hash things out with idiots was a waste of time.

Arguing wouldn't get her anywhere. It'd only leave her reeking from the fallout. Better to walk away before any of it rubbed off on her.

Giselle had gone all out on dinner, and almost every dish on the table was one of Jack's favorites. By 8:00 pm, everything was ready, but there was still no word from him.

She texted him, and after a long wait, he finally said he'd be home soon and asked her to wait a little longer.

That "little longer" turned into two hours. The food had gone cold. Her stomach ached with hunger, but she couldn't bring herself to eat. The thought of it made her sick.

She sat stiffly on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram until she stumbled on a post from Cecilia with the caption, "Dinner with Mom and Dad."

Of course, Jack had gone to meet her parents.

Giselle let out a scoff but tapped the photo anyway. The restaurant screamed five-star—gaudy, over-the-top, dripping in gold and excess.

The table was set for four, but only Cecilia and her mother were in the frame. Naturally, her father wouldn't make an appearance. Someone like him wouldn't show up so casually.

As for Jack, only part of his shoulder and his hands were visible.

Cecilia was trying to play it cool, but everyone already knew she and Jack were back together.

Giselle shut Instagram and got to her feet, ready to toss the cold food straight into the trash. She swore this was the last time she'd ever cook for Jack. After tonight, there'd be no more second chances.

Her fingers had just grazed the plate when the door creaked open and Jack rushed in, looking travel-worn and out of breath.

He hadn't even taken off his shoes when he started explaining himself. "Babe, I'm sorry I kept you waiting. Things have been so busy lately. I couldn't get away."

"Oh, is that so?" Giselle turned, her stare ice-cold. "Then tell me, what exactly was keeping you so busy?"

Chapter 3

There was a chill in Giselle's gaze as she fixed it on Jack, unwavering, like she meant to strip him bare with her eyes.

Jack slipped into his slippers and walked over, arms outstretched, but she smoothly stepped aside.

"You stink. Don't come any closer."

He lowered his head and gave himself a quick sniff. Nothing seemed off.

After a moment's thought, he said, "Gigi, I admit I've been neglecting you lately, but it wasn't intentional. You might hear some rumors, but no matter what anyone says, don't believe a word of it."

Giselle let out a cold scoff. "Why?"

"Because you're the only woman I've ever loved."

There was a time she would've believed that without hesitation. Now? She knew better. That was total bullshit.

Her eyes stayed cold as she spoke, slow and razor-edged. "So when you were fucking Cecilia, were you loving me at the same time?"

Jack's face darkened instantly. "What are you even talking about?"

Giselle wanted to pull up the photos Cecilia had posted and smash her phone right into his face, but in the end, she held back.

"Let's just get a divorce, Jack. Stop lying to yourself."

She turned to leave, but barely made it a step before he grabbed her.

He clamped down on her wrist, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't even think about it. We're not getting divorced. Not now, not ever."

Giselle's lips curled into a cold, mocking smile.

Oh, she'd thought about it. In fact, the divorce agreement was already signed. Just 21 days to go, and it would all be over.

There was so much cruel disdain in her smile that Jack felt it under his skin. He frowned before he even realized.

He said, "I won't deny I've been spending time with Cecilia, but it's strictly business. I need her father's support to land Atlas Defense Group's shipbuilding and heavy industry project.

"If we pull this off, the Moores will rule Sherfield. No one else will even come close, not even the Zimmers."

For generations, the Moores had chased one goal—to surpass the Zimmers and become the richest family in Sherfield. Yet no matter how hard they pushed, they always fell short.

The Zimmers had built their empire on military-industrial contracts, while the Moores were left trailing behind, watching from the sidelines.

Now, Atlas Defense Group had thrown them a lifeline. Jack knew they were likely just a pawn, a token player to stir competition. But he went for it anyway.

What if, against all odds, they actually pulled it off?

"So what? You're selling yourself just to get in with the Evans family?" Giselle asked.

"I... didn't," Jack said, but it came out weak and unsure.

She turned around and dumped all the food from the table straight into the trash. She didn't need dinner. She was already stuffed with rage.

Just then, Jack's phone rang. He hesitated, then stepped outside to answer it.

The door wasn't fully closed, and Jack's voice came drifting in through the gap. He was talking in that syrupy voice, the same one he used back when they were in love.

His tone was tender and doting. It made Giselle gag.

After hanging up, Jack drove off without a word. He didn't come back for days.

Giselle didn't reach out to him. In her mind, she was already a widow.

Now and then, she'd see glimpses of him on Cecilia's Instagram—photos of them hiking, camping, tangled up in bed. They were all lovey-dovey in every photo, nonstop with their little romantic stunts.

At first, the photos hit Giselle like a punch to the gut. But after a while, looking at them felt no different from watching two garbage heaps in love. No matter how many photos they posted, they still stank.

Giselle slipped into a quiet routine. Each evening after work, she packed a little more, hauling her things to the new place one small load at a time.

She clipped herself out of their wedding photos, shredded what was left, and tossed the confetti into the trash.

Every piece of clothing she'd ever bought for Jack went into boxes. Then off they went, shipped to places that needed them more than he ever had.

…

One evening after work, Lara invited Giselle out to dinner. They met at The Waterfront Table.

The moment Giselle walked in, Lara blurted, "Well? Did you divorce him?"

Giselle rolled her eyes. "Is it so hard to wish me well?"

Lara let out a sigh. "What's even worth keeping about that loser? That guy's a cheating bastard. The sooner you kick him to the curb, the better. Lucky for you, I've got a total dreamboat lined up."

Giselle took a sip of her drink, playing it cool. "Dreamboat, huh? What kind of size are we talking about?"

Lara almost choked, then gave her a wicked grin. "His body's insane. As for the goods? No idea. Do you want me to introduce you so you can check for yourself?"

Giselle waved her off. "No thanks. Men are the last thing I need right now."

"Huh?" Lara instinctively hugged herself. "Hey, don't get any funny ideas. I'm totally straight. I like handsome guys."

"Since he's your kind of guy, why not keep him?"

"Because he's my cousin," Lara said, shaking her head regretfully. "He grew up abroad, never had a girlfriend. He's completely loyal."

Giselle let out a bitter laugh. "I'm still bleeding inside. Who knows how long it'll take to stop? Even the perfect guy wouldn't change that."

Seven years of love had cocooned her. Breaking out of it and starting fresh? That was easier said than done.

"Come on, you can't swear off all men just because of one jerk. At least check out his photo," Lara said.

Giselle looked unenthused. "Forget it. Maybe another time."

And just like that, Lara's matchmaking attempt died before it even got off the ground.

After dinner, they stepped out of their private room, only to come face-to-face with two all-too-familiar faces—Cecilia and Elisa Moore.

Elisa, Jack's younger sister and a graduate of a top foreign university, had always been close to Cecilia.

When Jack married Giselle, Elisa gave her "blessing" by wishing them a speedy divorce and a lifetime apart, which exposed just how spiteful she really was.

Now, face-to-face with Giselle, Elisa offered a saccharine smile, practically glowing with smug satisfaction as she delivered her taunt.

"Ms. Rutherford, Jack's back with Ceci. You've been playing stand-in all these years, and for what? Nothing. All your effort is wasted."

Giselle met her gaze with icy composure. "Wasted? Please. Even if Jack marries Ms. Evans tomorrow, she's still settling for a man who's been married twice. He's a scumbag, used up and tossed aside by me.

"And let's not forget, we're still legally married. Whether she ever gets him depends entirely on how generous I'm feeling."

"How d—"

"How what? Shut it!" Lara snapped.

She had had enough. She yanked Giselle back and stepped up to Elisa, eyes blazing like she was ready to throw a punch.

It was like her dog was getting into it with someone else's, and Lara, like a pissed-off owner, went straight for the other mutt.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Your in-laws tossed you out after one day of marriage, and you've got the nerve to judge someone else's relationship?"

Lara went straight for Elisa's sore spot and hit it hard.

Elisa's ex-husband was Clarence Lanner, the eldest son of the Lanner family—one of the four most prominent families. He was charming in appearance and just as unrestrained in character.

The day after their wedding, he was caught cheating in broad daylight. Instead of making excuses, he admitted it, then turned around and beat Elisa so badly she ended up in the hospital.

Elisa wasn't the type to suffer in silence. She marched straight to the courthouse and filed for divorce.

Her "heroic" episode became something of a legend among high society, often repeated by elite matrons as a cautionary tale for their daughters. Naturally, it remained Elisa's deepest humiliation.

She was shaking with rage, her eyes nearly popping out of her head. She was about to lunge at Lara when a voice called out from behind.

"What's going on here?"

Chapter 4

Cecilia turned her head. The moment she saw Jack, tears spilled down her cheeks.

"Jack…" she choked out, looking so devastated like Giselle had just roughed her up.

Jack closed the distance in quick strides and positioned himself protectively beside Cecilia, his icy stare fixed on Giselle. He didn't even need to know what had happened. He'd already passed judgment.

"Gigi, what are you trying to pull?"

Giselle froze, her heart plunging into ice.

She never imagined Jack could be this blind, so hopelessly taken with Cecilia that he'd turn on her without even asking what happened. And she hadn't even done anything wrong.

"Are you blind? What the hell could I have even done?" she shot back.

Still fuming, Elisa slipped into victim mode first. "Jack, she called you a scumbag."

Jack's eyes darkened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face.

"Gigi, can you stop with the crap? How many times do I have to explain myself? Why is it so hard for you to trust me?"

Rage bubbled inside Giselle, growing hotter by the second. At this point, she wanted nothing more than a blowtorch to burn this pathetic couple to ash and end their so-called epic love story once and for all.

"Trust you? Trust that you're innocent? Trust that you're only with Cecilia for work?"

Night had long fallen. The workday had ended hours ago. And still, they remained entwined.

Jack's expression darkened, his voice edged with irritation.

"It's Ceci's birthday. I was just celebrating with her, and there were plenty of other people there. What the hell is wrong with you? How many of your birthdays have I celebrated?

"What's the big deal if I spend one with her? Is that really so unreasonable?"

What kind of twisted logic was that? A married man defending celebrating his mistress' birthday like it was some righteous act.

Giselle was so furious, she couldn't even get a word out.

"Oh, not unreasonable at all," Lara drawled. "Jack's just a big softie, Gigi. Why not be a little more open-minded? Embrace the side chicks! You could be their fearless leader by next week."

Then she cracked up, unable to hold back her laughter.

Jack shot her a look that could kill. "How dare you…"

"What the hell are you even saying? I swear, I'll tear that mouth right off your face!" Elisa snapped.

She'd always hated Lara. She lunged, hand poised to slap, but Lara dodged with ease, leaving Elisa swiping at nothing. In one fluid move, Lara caught Elisa's wrist and drove a kick hard into her.

Lara scoffed. "No wonder your ex dumped you. Takes a bimbo to get left like that."

Elisa let out a furious shriek.

"I'll kill you!" she screamed, then lunged at Lara, aiming to headbutt her.

Giselle saw it coming and yanked Lara out of the way. Elisa's head slammed straight into Giselle, the impact sending her reeling. She staggered backward, barely keeping her balance.

Jack instinctively reached out to steady her, but Cecilia clamped down on his arm, stopping him.

Lara cried out and lunged toward Giselle, but she was a heartbeat too late.

Giselle felt someone steady her by the waist. With a sudden lift, she was almost hoisted into the air.

Frightened, she turned her head midair, only to come face-to-face with a chiseled, commanding face that looked like it had been carved from stone.

It was none other than Michael.

His sharp brows cut like blades above eyes that gleamed with quiet intensity. Every angle of his face was perfectly sculpted, and the clean, unforgiving line of his jaw lent him a cool, distant edge.

He wore a pale blue shirt, the sleeves casually rolled up to his forearms. There was a crisp sharpness to his look, yet beneath it lingered an unspoken allure, cool and refined.

He looked like a prince who had just tossed aside his evening coat after a lavish gala.

Their gazes collided in midair, sparks bursting and scattering into stardust. For a moment, time stood still. Everyone around them looked up at once, wide-eyed and stunned.

"Holy shit, this is way too romantic..." Lara drawled, stretching out each word. "Mike, give her a spin."

"Should I?" Michael murmured, lowering his gaze to meet Giselle's.

Her head was spinning.

"N-no, no…"

She shook her head quickly, wriggling to get down.

Michael pressed his lips together, his dark eyes unreadable. "It's free."

"No, no. Thank you, Mr. Zimmer."

There was no way she could take him up on that. If Michael so much as gave her a spin, Jack would blow a fuse.

Still, Michael shifted subtly, and suddenly, she was spinning through the air like a dandelion caught in the breeze, floating gracefully before touching down on her feet.

Everyone around them looked on, completely entranced. The two of them moved like dancers, so graceful that it was as if they'd stepped out of a dream.

Jack's expression turned stormy. He tore free from Cecilia and marched straight over to Giselle, grabbing her hand like he was staking his claim, eyes locked on Michael with a predator's glare.

"Who are you? What do you think you're doing?"

Michael narrowed his eyes, a cold, mocking smile tugging at his lips.

"I was just trying to help. Didn't you notice?"

If he hadn't stepped in, Giselle would've hit the floor.

Giselle yanked her arm out of Jack's grasp and shot him a glare. "Jack, seriously, can't you get Elisa under control? She's going around attacking people like a rabid dog."

Jack said nothing. Right then, Elisa was the last thing on his mind. He was too focused on the man who'd just grabbed Giselle by the waist.

In Jack's mind, Giselle was his. No one else had any right to touch what belonged to him.

Michael was strikingly handsome—sharp features, a chiseled jaw, and that smug, rebellious edge that immediately put Jack on alert.

Jack turned to Giselle, agitation flaring in his eyes. "Who is he? How long have you two known each other?"

Giselle bristled at his accusing tone.

Michael was just a colleague who'd only recently joined the company. They barely knew each other, but Jack was acting like there was some shady secret between them.

"He's a human being, so technically, I've known him since the day he was born. You've got a problem with that?"

"Bullshit," Jack shot back, his voice spiking. "You can keep hiding it, but I'll still find out."

"Are you out of your damn mind?" Giselle snapped, finally losing it. "He's just a new colleague. Instead of poking around in his life, maybe take a good look at how many women you've slept with."

Jack said nothing.

Cecilia froze. The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She could handle the fact that Jack had been married before, but the idea of him sleeping around with countless women? That was unbearable.

Her eyes welled up as she looked up at him, vulnerable and deeply hurt.

Jack shot Giselle a sharp look, his fists tightening before he forced himself to unclench them.

Then he turned to Cecilia and said gently, "Don't listen to her. She's just talking nonsense. I never did any of that."

Of course, Cecilia believed him.

After everything they'd been through to be together, walking away wasn't even an option. But that didn't mean she was going to stand by and let anyone drag his name through the mud.

"Ms. Rutherford, you're free to stop loving Jack, but you don't get to slander him."

Giselle nearly laughed in disbelief.

Since when did the mistress get to defend the cheater? What kind of messed-up world was this? The two of them were absolutely shameless.

"So what if I'm slandering him? What are you gonna do? Call me out online? Post a little rant? Why not add those shots of you two in bed while you're at it?

"Oh, right, you deleted those. Good thing I saved backups. Want me to send you a few?"

"How dare you!"

Cecilia's face turned crimson—whether from shame or fury, no one could tell. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she covered her face and bolted.

Jack growled, "Was that really necessary? She's not even married yet. Couldn't you have let her keep a shred of dignity?"

"It's not like she's some blushing virgin—"

Giselle didn't get to finish. Jack had already turned on his heel and gone after her. That left just two bystanders, soaking up the drama.

Lara patted her shoulder. "Gigi, let me introduce you. This is my cousin. He just got back from overseas. And guess what? You two work at the same company!"

Giselle found herself at a loss for words.

Wasn't he the daily-rate guy?

Chapter 5

As Lara made the introductions, Giselle wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

"Don't bother. We've met," Michael said, his voice quiet but rich with depth.

"Huh? How did you two meet?" Lara asked, surprised.

"Through work."

Michael's lips thinned as he locked eyes with Giselle, his stare burning with unspoken tension. He'd said it was work, but that didn't quite cover it.

Giselle fell quiet. If she'd known Michael was Lara's cousin, she never would've hired him as a stand-in.

Still, he'd played the part so well. With just a few moves, he'd almost provoked Jack into a full-blown meltdown.

Meanwhile, Lara had no clue. She just figured they'd met at work.

The truth was, Giselle was just a regular employee at Cosmo Group, about as far from Michael, the company's newly minted CEO, as it got. She hadn't even realized who he was, mistaking him for some fresh-faced newbie.

"Since we all know each other, why don't we kick back and go sing some karaoke?" Lara suggested.

Giselle inwardly scoffed at the idea of karaoke. She was ready to make a run for it. The last thing she needed was Michael accidentally spilling everything about their deal like some clueless straight dude.

"You guys go ahead, Lara. I have some things to handle at home. Let's hang out another time."

"You're about to be single as hell, Gigi. What could you possibly have going on?"

Giselle was speechless. She wanted to grab a bat and bash Lara's head in.

Was Lara really that blind to how mortified she was? Were best friends just there to throw each other under the bus now?

"Aunt Sarah said she's dropping by soon. I should really get going."

In her rush to escape, Giselle had even dragged poor Sarah into the lie, who was probably already tucked into bed for the night.

To her relief, Michael didn't press. He just offered a soft smile, warm as sunlight.

"Ms. Rutherford, since you're busy, we won't keep you. Would you like a ride?"

"No need, but thank you. Have fun, you two."

Giselle let out a quiet breath. Running a hand through her hair, she turned and practically bolted, swift as the wind.

…

The top-floor private room at The Waterfront Table hummed with energy, bathed in the warm glow of crystal chandeliers. Well-heeled guests clinked glasses, trading light conversation in scattered clusters.

It was Cecilia's birthday, and half the city's social scene had shown up, drawn in by whispers of a joyful announcement.

Cecilia appeared, now dressed in a snow-white gown, her delicate features glowing like a rose just beginning to bloom at dawn.

She greeted her guests with a beaming smile, her eyes shining with joy, but under it all, a knot of unease tightened in her chest.

It was nearly 10:00 pm, and Jack was still nowhere to be found. She'd called him several times, but he never picked up. For all she knew, that bitch Giselle had dragged him off somewhere.

Cecilia's jaw tightened. She swore to herself that one day, Jack would be so tightly bound to her that Giselle wouldn't even get the chance to breathe the same air as him.

Jack made it back just in time, but there wasn't the slightest trace of joy on his face. His expression was grim.

Cecilia's smile faltered, but she recovered in an instant. This was her night. She wasn't about to let anyone—least of all Giselle—see her crack.

Until Giselle finally gave up and filed for divorce, Cecilia would keep up the picture-perfect act with Jack.

"Jack, where have you been?" Cecilia asked, worry threading through her voice.

Jack's thoughts were a mess. Every time he pictured that stranger's hand on Giselle's waist, it made his blood boil. The urge to put a bullet in someone was hard to shake.

What pissed him off most was that, even after ordering a full investigation into the stranger, his men had come up with nothing.

What kind of sick joke was this? He'd never hit a wall investigating someone.

If anything, that just confirmed one thing—the guy wasn't some nobody. The fact that he left no trace only meant his reach ran deeper than Jack had ever imagined.

"I just stepped out for a minute. Is it starting?" Jack asked, his voice softer now as he turned to Cecilia, eyes warm.

That one glance sent her heart into a sprint, a flutter rising in her chest.

"Yeah, it's starting soon. We were just waiting for you," she said, her voice soft and sweet, eyes brimming with tenderness.

The staff wheeled out the cake, and the room lit up with cheers. Everyone gathered around Cecilia, singing along to the tune of "Happy Birthday".

Overcome with emotion, she blinked back the tears welling in her eyes. Just as she leaned in to blow out the candles, she glanced over her shoulder.

Jack wasn't by her side. He was standing off to the side, head bent, completely absorbed in his phone.

Bitterness coiled in her chest like a knot.

He'd promised he'd be there for her birthday. And yet there he was, standing across the room, glued to his phone. She'd waited seven years for this moment. And now? Her heart felt like shattered glass.

Teeth grinding, she told herself that Giselle would pay for it.

…

The birthday party wrapped up before long, and as the guests drifted off, Jack drove Cecilia home.

When they pulled up to her place, he stayed behind the wheel, looking deeply melancholic in the faint glow of the streetlamps.

His voice was rough as he murmured, "Go on, Ceci. I'll come by another day."

Cecilia couldn't hold it in anymore. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Jack, it's my birthday. Can't you just…"

She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him.

…

At midnight, Jack came home.

The light was still on upstairs. Giselle was awake.

For reasons he couldn't name, a faint sense of satisfaction stirred in him. He kicked off his shoes and slipped into his house slippers, then hurried up the stairs.

But the moment he reached the doorway, that smug little feeling vanished, replaced by a surge of rage.

Giselle was awake, but she wasn't waiting for him. She was packing. Her things were strewn all over the floor in bundles, like she was preparing to flee.

Jack's expression darkened like a brewing storm, and his voice came out tight. "Are you planning to run off with someone?"

Giselle was too absorbed in packing to notice he'd come back. His words made her jump. She turned to find him glowering.

"Exactly. You get to sleep with Cecilia and throw her a birthday party, but I'm the one who's not allowed to run off with someone?"

Giselle had never tiptoed around Jack, never softened her words to spare his feelings. She always pushed back, knowing full well it would piss him off.

"How dare you!"

Jack hauled her to her feet and gripped her shoulders, forcing her to face him. His eyes blazed, his breath coming in harsh, ragged bursts, like a wild animal on the edge of attack.

"What will it take for you to believe me? This project is the Moores' future. I have to go all in—no safety net, no second chances. Do you even get that? This dream has been building for generations!"

He shook her hard, nearly shaking her to pieces, like he was trying to jolt her out of some deep sleep.

Giselle stepped back, slipping free of his grip, and looked at him with calm resolve. "No need to explain. I get it. You have my support. Do whatever it takes, just make sure you win."

"Really?" Jack stared at her, disbelief giving way to a slow, unmistakable smile.

"Yeah. When have I ever lied to you?"

Giselle turned away and continued packing.

"But why are you still packing?" Jack asked, stunned.

"I never said I was staying with you."

"You've got some nerve!"

Jack's face contorted with rage. He yanked her to her feet again, then slapped her hard.