Chapter 1

"In the end, he was just a liar. All men are liars."

The bitter words circled in Liliana Preston's mind like vultures.

She had replayed the damning clip ten times, each viewing carving the truth deeper. The man in the grainy video was her husband, Cedric Forrest.

In the video, a woman knocked on the door of Cedric's hotel suite at eleven o'clock

at night. He answered wearing nothing but a robe, ushering her inside. The door didn't open again for three hours.

*That sounds about right for Cedric*, a small, bitter thought surfaced.

The timestamp in the corner confirmed it was from the night before, the third day of his business trip.

Maybe it was just a meaningless encounter, she reasoned, a way for him to scratch an itch while he was away.

He might have seemed refined and gentlemanly on the surface, but she knew the truth about his needs. In their two years of marriage, she'd rarely had a night to herself.

If that was all it was, did it even count as an affair?

Her mother's voice whispered in her ear that it didn't, that men had certain needs. But a line had been crossed, and she couldn't ignore it.

Liliana switched off her phone and stared at the cake on the table, its delicate structure beginning to melt.

Cedric wasn't one for romance. He'd never once celebrated her birthday.

But today was his birthday. Knowing how he disliked frosting, she had spent the entire day in the kitchen, teaching herself to make an ice cream cake.

She'd even painstakingly crafted a small, intricate design on top based on a sketch from his favorite architect.

But she had waited too long. The cake was starting to sweat, the design slumping sideways in a way that was almost comical. She couldn't decide whether to eat it herself or call to see if he was even coming home. Her mind was a fog, replaying the video on a loop, so lost in it that she didn't hear his car pull into the driveway.

The soft click of the electronic lock broke the silence, followed by the familiar sound of his footsteps approaching from the foyer.

Liliana looked up just as Cedric emerged from the dim entryway.

He was everything a woman could want: sharp, deep-set brown eyes, a strong nose, and thin, sculpted lips. His broad shoulders and narrow waist were impeccably framed by a bespoke black suit, giving him an air of untouchable elegance. Even after two years of seeing him every day, the sight of him still made her heart skip a beat.

He was handsome, successful, and from a powerful family. Liliana had never been able to find a single flaw in him. The first time she met him, she'd learned he was the man She had been betrothed to since childhood, and she had fallen for him instantly. It was why she had agreed to their secret marriage, why she'd given up her dreams to become the invisible Mrs. Forrest her world revolving entirely around him. She had become the perfect, dutiful wife her mother had always wanted her to be.

As for whether Cedric loved her... she remembered how, two years ago, her family's investments had collapsed. Her father was about to sell her off to some old tycoon when Cedric had stepped in, announcing he would honor their engagement. He was the only reason she was standing here now as Mrs. Forrest.

So... he had to care about her, right?

The video must be a misunderstanding, she told herself. The sender was anonymous, the woman's face blurry. She would ask him about it tomorrow. Tonight was his birthday.

"I thought you were coming home at six," Liliana said, rising to take the suit jacket from his shoulders. A wave of strong, unfamiliar perfume hit her, and she froze, her eyes lifting to meet his.

"Work ran late," he said, his words clipped. His gaze fell on the slumping cake on the table, and a small frown creased his brow.

"Happy birthday," she said, pushing her doubts aside. She gave him her most practiced, serene smile, the one that made two small dimples appear beside her lips, and looked at him with stars in her eyes.

His expression remained as cold and distant as ever, completely ignoring her gesture. He loosened his tie with a flick of his wrist, revealing a sliver of his honey- toned chest. "Make me some coffee. Strong."

Beneath the perfume, she could now smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Of course," she said, turning toward the kitchen. "Why don't you go upstairs and shower? I've already drawn a bath for you."

When no reply came, she glanced back over her shoulder. He was already gone, heading up the stairs without another word.

It wasn't the first time he had treated her like she was invisible.

In the beginning, it had hurt, but over time she had grown used to it. Her mother always said that was just how men were, and eventually, she had come to accept it.

But tonight, with the video fresh in her mind, a prickle of irritation rose within her. It took a moment to force the feeling back down.

As she prepared the coffee, she tried to salvage the cake, straightening the design to make it look less pathetic. He was probably just tired and feeling the effects of the alcohol, she told herself. That's why he hadn't acknowledged her birthday wish.