Chapter 2: The Trophy
Vanessa wore Ethan’s white designer dress shirt like a trophy.
Champagne chilled beside the bed.
Silk sheets tangled behind her.
Warm golden lighting reflected off polished marble walls.
Every detail had been carefully staged to wound me.
And behind her, half asleep against the pillows, was my husband.
Ethan Whitmore.
CEO of Whitmore Global Logistics.
The man I had spent seven years helping build into one of the most admired businessmen in America while he allowed the world to believe he had done it alone.
But Vanessa’s smile was the worst part.
Not because she looked beautiful.
Because she looked victorious.
She had sent that picture expecting me to cry.
To break.
To beg my husband to come home.
I stared at the screen for a long moment.
Then I laughed.
Not loudly.
Not wildly.
Just one cold, sharp laugh. Continue Reading ⬇️
