Chapter 1: The Night of the Vow The night we signed our marriage certificate, Lucas Bailey stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse, chain-smoking as darkness fell over the city. The lights below twinkled like fallen stars, casting shadows across his sharp features. For hours, he hadn't moved from that spot, his silhouette cutting a lonely figure against the skyline. I sat on the leather couch, my designer dress still perfectly pressed despite the long day of formalities. The Bailey Estate had spared no expense-the courthouse ceremony had been brief but elegant, followed by a lavish reception at the Northbrook Country Club. Everyone who mattered in this city had been there, watching the union of two powerful families with calculating eyes. But now, in the privacy of his home-our home-the facade had crumbled. "I have something to tell you," Lucas finally said, his voice cutting through the silence. He turned to face me, his crystal tumbler of whiskey catching the light. His tie hung loose around his neck, top buttons undone, revealing the hollow of his throat. I straightened my posture, bracing myself. "What is it?" Lucas took a deep drag of his cigarette, then crushed it in the crystal ashtray beside him. "There's a woman I love." The words hung in the air between us. My heart contracted painfully, but I kept my expression neutral. Years of practice had made me good at hiding my emotions, especially around him. "Her name is Phoebe," he continued, watching my reaction carefully. "Phoebe Graham." I nodded slowly, my fingers lacing together in my lap to stop them from trembling. "Tell me about her." A soft, genuine smile touched his lips then-one I'd never seen directed at me. "She's unlike anyone in our circles. She works as a waitress at Bellini's downtown. She's poor but..." he paused, searching for words, "resilient. Like a lotus rising untainted from the mud." The poetic description felt like a knife twisting in my chest. I'd known Lucas since we were sixteen. I'd sat beside him in class, watched him excel at everything he touched, nursed a quiet, burning love for him that had never died. And he had forgotten me completely. When our fathers had announced the arrangement between the Shepherd and Bailey families, I'd been secretly elated. A chance to be with the man I'd loved from afar for seven years. I hadn't known then that his heart already belonged to someone else. "I see," I managed to say, my voice impressively steady. Lucas walked over, sitting on the opposite end of the couch. In the dim light, his features looked harder, more determined than the boy I'd known in high school. "So, what do we do?" I asked after a moment of silence, not telling him that I, too, had secretly loved him for many years. He gave a faint smile, but his eyes remained cold. "Two years." His voice was laced with steel. "In two years, I'll have enough control over the company. I won't be the man I am today, someone to be manipulated at will." I understood immediately. Lucas had been under his grandfather's thumb since his parents died. The Bailey fortune came with golden handcuffs. This marriage was his grandfather's way of securing an alliance with my father's shipping empire. A merger of bloodlines rather than just business assets. "When the time comes, we'll divorce," he continued, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "But don't worry, I'll ensure you and the Shepherd family are compensated." He spoke as if offering me a business deal. In a way, that's exactly what it was. I took a moment to study him-the sharp line of his jaw, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead, the intensity in his eyes that had made me fall for him all those years ago. Now that same intensity was directed at freeing himself from me. "Agreed," I said simply. Lucas looked almost surprised at my easy acquiescence. He'd expected resistance, perhaps tears or bargaining. Instead, I stood up smoothly, the silk of my dress falling back into place. "It's late," I said. "Which room is mine?" He pointed down the hallway. "Second door on the right. I had your things moved in this morning." I nodded and turned to leave, but his voice stopped me. "Autumn." I paused without turning around, afraid my face might betray me. "Thank you for understanding." I managed a small nod and continued walking. In the guest bedroom-my bedroom now-I closed the door quietly behind me before allowing my composure to crack. I leaned against the door, sliding down until I hit the floor, my wedding dress pooling around me like spilled champagne. Outside, through the wall, I could hear Lucas moving around. The clink of the whiskey decanter. His footsteps. The soft thud as he opened and closed the balcony door to smoke again. I hadn't cried at my mother's funeral. I hadn't cried when Lucas failed to recognize me at our engagement meeting. I wouldn't cry now. Instead, I stood up, slipped out of my wedding dress, and carefully hung it in the closet. In the adjoining bathroom, I stared at my reflection. My makeup was still perfect, my long brown hair falling in loose waves around my shoulders. I looked like a bride. The irony wasn't lost on me. As I washed my face, I made a promise to myself. Two years. For two years, I would be the perfect wife in public. I would play my part in this charade. And then, when Lucas Bailey had what he wanted, I would walk away with my dignity intact. What I didn't tell him-what I couldn't tell him-was that I had loved him since I was sixteen years old. That when he carried me to the infirmary after I collapsed with fever, missing his championship basketball game to stay by my side, I had fallen hopelessly for him. That when others spread rumors that my mother had been a gold-digger who trapped my father, calling me an illegitimate child behind my back, Lucas had stood up for me, teaching me to hold my head high. That I still remembered every moment we'd spent together, while he had forgotten I even existed. I slipped into bed alone on my wedding night, listening to Lucas Bailey smoking by the window until dawn broke over the skyline of Northbrook.