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P resent day.

“Mrs. O’Doyle, do you have a comment about your husband’s whereabouts last night? Do you know the woman he was with?”

“Mrs. O’Doyle, this way, please! That’s it, smile for the camera!”

“Is it true Liam O’Doyle tricked you into marriage?”

I blinked against the flashes from the paparazzi and looked for a path to the car waiting for me that wouldn’t require I wade into the thick of the foul-smelling photographers and tabloid hacks.

It was their job to get all the juicy, gritty tidbits of people's lives and to turn them into fodder for the public. I understood all that. But I hated them just the same.

Fuck. Shit.

My heart was breaking, but I couldn’t let them see. I had to keep my chin up, my emotions hidden from the ravenous crowd.

“Excuse me. Move. Get the fuck away from my wife!”

I heard his voice before I saw him. Liam O’Doyle. My two-timing bastard of a husband.

My chest squeezed.

My throat felt thick.

I steeled my spine and started walking. Remembering who I was had never been a problem before.

Then he happened.

This man—my husband—swept into my life like a tsunami. He turned everything I ever thought I knew about myself completely topsy-turvy, and I should have hated him for it.

But, to my unending shame, I didn’t.

“Michaela,” he murmured as I neared him and the small group of men he had with him, pushing the crowd back.

Our eyes met, but I schooled my face to show no emotion.

“Excuse me. I have to get to an appointment.”

“We have to talk,” he whispered.

“I think we’re beyond that, don’t you?”

I turned away from his too handsome face. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate his looks.

Liam had a way of drawing attention without even trying.

It was so damn unfair.

Our deal was supposed to stop this from happening. But he tricked me in more ways than one.

Everything started to feel too real. Before I knew what was happening, I’d gone and fallen in love.

Stupid, Micky .

Being around him now was like staring into a storm. I knew from the start he was something beautiful but deceptively dangerous. Back then, I wasn’t sure how long I could stand in its path before being swept away.

I’d looked forward to it, to him, doing just that.

But I was a fool. Now, I just felt so hollow and empty now.

It was the kind of emptiness that filled you up with the quiet roar of your own mind.

Every thought echoed louder than the last.

Every word uttered reminded me how far apart we really were.

Even though we shared the same space, the same air, lived together for months, I really didn’t know him. Not at all.

I couldn’t even look at him now, because the weight of everything I hadn’t said, everything I couldn’t say, pressed too hard against my chest.

How could you do this to me?

I just felt so stupid.

No, I didn’t wait to hear what he said next. It didn’t matter.

I was already moving, already retreating into the cold comfort of the routine I knew.

I handed my briefcase to one of his guards, a silent gesture that felt automatic, as if I’d done it a thousand times before.

I didn’t need to look at the guard to know that he would take it without question, that he would follow his orders without hesitation.

These men, all of them, were extensions of my husband, and, cheater or not, he wouldn’t ever put me in harm’s way. It was the unspoken order of things.

I was Adrik Volkov’s daughter. And Liam O’Doyle had married me for that reason alone.

I nodded for the guard to lead the way to the car, my steps measured but distant.

The clack of my heels on the icy stretch of sidewalk felt muffled somehow—like I was already walking away from everything.

I sniffed delicately, halting the emotion I refused to allow myself to feel.

I didn’t trust myself to speak anymore, not without the words coming out wrong.

Not without him seeing the cracks in my mask.

I knew he was still watching me. His glittering eyes, so intense, would be fixed on my back. But I couldn’t let that matter right now.

I couldn’t let him see that I was unraveling, thread by thread, under the weight of everything we couldn’t say to each other.

It didn’t matter, anyway. Nothing mattered. Not now. Not while the emptiness inside me was the only thing that felt real.

As the guard closed the door to the SUV after me, I allowed my mind to wander back to when everything I ever cared about was so much simpler.

In that moment, I wondered just how desperate I’d become to allow this all to happen.

And I hated myself for that weakness.