Chapter 1: The Marble Guillotine
The echo of heels on the courthouse marble resounded in my head like the strike of a hammer against a coffin nail. Thud. Thud. Thud.
I was seven months pregnant, carrying a weight that felt heavier than biology should allow. My breathing was ragged, a shallow staccato rhythm against my ribs, and my hands, resting protectively on the swell of my belly, trembled with a frequency I couldn’t suppress.
A few feet away from me stood the architect of my nightmare. My husband, the untouchable tech titan Julian Vance. He wore his three-piece charcoal suit like armor, his posture relaxed, his smile a razor-thin curve of ice that froze the blood in my veins. Beside him, hanging on his arm like a decorative parasite, was Vanessa. She was officially his “Executive Assistant,” but everyone in the city—including the judge we were about to see—knew she was the mistress who had helped him dismantle my life.
