### Chapter 5

Randolph sat on the couch, clothes half off, Lily coiled around him like a snake, her face flushed nearly red enough to bleed.

The moans and ragged breathing mixed with the sound of the couch knocking against the wall, and the cold spread through me.

When she saw me, Lily screamed.

Randolph froze for a second, then yanked his shirt over to cover her.

The scene in front of me was like some warped nightmare, the sour smell of it rolling toward me. I forced down the shaking in my body and asked him,

"Why did you destroy the nursery? Why did you burn the letters I wrote to my baby? Why give her the pacifier too?"

Lily's eyes went red at once. She shrank into Randolph's arms, her voice catching on a sob.

"I—I'm sorry, I get so anxious, I keep biting my nails, so Randolph gave the pacifier to me."

"I didn't know the ashes in the sachet were the letters you wrote to your baby. If I'd known, I never would have taken it."

She wept in little hiccuping gasps, as if she were the one who'd been horribly wronged.

I clenched my fists, the nails driving deep into the cut in my palm, blood running down.

Randolph only let out a contemptuous little laugh. He kissed Lily's cheek to soothe her, his tone utterly indifferent.

"They were just worthless junk. Put to use on you, they're worth more."

Worthless junk?

That room. From the first day I knew I was pregnant, I had poured every ounce of love into it.

I'd painted the picture on the wall stroke by stroke. The pacifier had taken months of searching the world over, asking everyone I could, before I settled on it. The letters I'd written night after night, deep into the dark. I'd thought I would keep writing them until she was grown, a gift to hand her when she came of age, the most precious thing she'd ever receive.

All of it ruined by her own father, just to make his mistress smile.

My voice scraped out of my throat, hoarse.

"Randolph, those things took me searching all over the world to get. I put so much into them—"

"Enough." He cut me off, his voice thick with irritation. "Can you stop making a scene? Lily's not even holding the past against you. She's willing to be the child's godmother. You should learn from her. Be more forgiving. Be kinder."

Destroying everything I'd poured my heart into for my baby, all to win his mistress a smile.

That was forgiving? That was kind?

"My child does not need a mistress for a godmother!"

I closed my eyes and held back the tears about to spill over.

I had always believed that, at least when it came to the child, he would do right by it. Only now did I understand how foolish I'd been.

The baby wasn't even born yet, and already he could strip away everything that should have been hers without a second thought, just to please another woman.

I didn't dare imagine it. If this child were really born, would she end up like Snow White, denied her father's protection, driven step by step into a corner by someone else?

I had still held one thin sliver of hope that Randolph could be a good father. In that instant, he destroyed my last illusion without mercy.

I couldn't speak.

His dark gaze dropped to my belly. Then he set Lily down gently, pulled his pants on without hurry, and walked toward me.

"All right, don't act like I've done something terrible to you." He hooked my chin up with a fingertip, the way he handled his mistresses. He looked at my red, swollen eyes. "Poor thing. I'll make it up to you."

His face wore that charming smile he always had, the smile that had once made me feel I was everything to him.

But when I looked at him now, this face I had spent ten years beside and loved for five had become so strange to me, twisted like a devil's.

The highest point in this city had once been where we began.

We had fought side by side here, building the new map of the Farley empire under the late-night lights, sketching out our dream of an empire on blank paper.

Dawn would break across the skyline, witness to an understanding that belonged only to us. On that couch, two figures had always lain sprawled, drained to nothing.

But now there was only a filthy stain left on it.

Precious documents scattered across the floor, trampled, footprints stamped over them.

Everything before me was foul beyond words.

"No need. Save it for your mistress."

### Chapter 6

I knocked Randolph's hand away and ran down the stairs, hunching over by the car as everything came up. As if I could empty my body of him, every trace of him in my memory along with it.

I went back to the "home" I'd built so carefully over five years. Dead center in the living room hung our wedding portrait, the two of us smiling so sweetly in it.

I grabbed the vase off the floor and smashed it straight into those smiling faces.

Crash.

The huge frame toppled over and shattered across the floor.

The housekeeper came running at the noise, fright on her face.

I pointed at the floor. "Burn every photo of me and Mr. Farley."

She froze a moment, didn't dare ask, and got to work.

She piled every album and frame, big and small, out on the lawn in the yard. The flames leapt up and burned through the whole night.

That night, Randolph didn't come home.

I spent the night looking at houses for me and the baby, then called my assistant. "That estate with the best view. Pay in full and close it."

Over the next few days, I packed my luggage and shipped it out, piece by piece.

My estate was on the other side of the ocean, somewhere Randolph would never find us again.

Randolph was lost in Lily's softness, oblivious to all of it, and indifferent. He did start sending things to the house, by way of compensation.

Couture jewelry, expensive prenatal supplements, heaps of designer baby goods. I didn't give any of it a glance. I had the staff sell all of it.

I'd stopped paying him any attention, but his and Lily's affair still blew through Atlanta's upper circles like wind.

He opened a bar for her and showed up every night to lend his support.

He made her the top draw in Atlanta, drove her around himself in a luxury car, the whole show rivaling a top celebrity's.

Some people envied her, said Lily was lucky, that Randolph had never been this generous with any mistress, going everywhere as a pair with her.

Word went around that she'd soon replace me as the Farley lady of the house.

Others said I was the one Grandpa Farley had personally claimed as his grandson's wife, holding half the Farley empire in my hands, and that what Randolph was doing was foolish.

Whatever they said out there, I no longer cared.

Within half a month, I secretly moved every asset under my name.

Two days left until I was gone.

It happened to fall on Farley's centennial gala, where I would appear as the Farley lady of the house for the last time.

The night before the banquet, Randolph came home.

"The housekeeper says you haven't been eating well lately," he said, touching my slightly worn face. "I've been neglecting you. Once the gala's over, I'll take you away somewhere to clear your head."

I turned my head aside. Randolph didn't seem to mind, just took my hand instead.

"There's some gossip online, saying Lily deliberately wrecked our marriage. I'll bring her tomorrow night, get a few friendly photos of the two of you, kill the talk."

In an instant my whole body went rigid, and I understood he hadn't come back for me.

"You want me to be a human shield for your mistress? Never."

The hand around mine tightened all at once. His gaze came down on me like a king's, merciless, and his voice landed word by word.

"I expect you to explain that you invited her yourself, to lend us your support."

My chest clenched. I looked at Randolph, then at the row of bodyguards outside the door.

He'd made up his mind to make me fall in line. There was no room to negotiate.

I closed my eyes and pressed down the bitterness rising in my throat.

"As you wish."

The next evening, at Farley's centennial banquet, the hall blazed with light. The champagne tower threw a thousand streams of light through the crystal chandeliers.

Every important Farley banquet was flawless.

I controlled the details myself from behind the scenes, from the music to the lighting, from the table arrangements to the careful touches on the drapery, while Randolph, with the presence of Farley's CEO, kept command of the mood with ease.

I'd assumed tonight would be the same.

The emcee picked up the microphone and began the grand introduction of the important guests. We'd spent tens of millions to bring in one of the most prestigious, most influential stars to headline.

But at the center where the spotlights converged, it was Lily who came gliding in on Randolph's arm.

And on her head she wore the crown that symbolized the Farley lady of the house.

### Chapter 7

The room blew up.

"Isn't that Lily White? Randolph Farley's mistress, the stripper. What's a piece of meat like her doing at an event like this?"

"And where's Melanie? She's the real Mrs. Farley, isn't she?"

"This is insane. It's being livestreamed! Farley's reputation is finished!"

That crown had cost me ten years of my life to earn. I had searched the whole house and never found it, and all this time Randolph had taken it and given it to Lily.

I almost charged forward to rip it straight off her head.

Then Randolph cleared his throat and spoke.

"Thank you all for coming to witness a century of Farley glory. Let me take this chance to clear something up. Miss Lily White has traveled all over the country promoting Farley's new line. It's been hard work, and the doubled sales are entirely thanks to her."

"She's done great things for Farley, and she's also a good friend of my wife's. I hope everyone will stop spreading rumors."

The room went silent in an instant, and then every eye turned to me. Suspicious, startled, amused.

It was so absurd I almost laughed.

All those nights my team and I had burned through, and one sentence from him turned it into her achievement.

I lifted my head. Randolph's gaze was like a poisoned thorned vine, twisting around my heart until it bled.

I gave a bitter smile and walked up onto the stage. I shook Lily's hand and forced a smile for the photo.

"Lately Lily has been with my husband for work. I can confirm she's an honored guest of mine, not some mistress wrecking our marriage."

Lily's eyes reddened, and she wiped at tears that weren't there.

"As long as Melanie's willing to clear it up for me, I don't mind being wronged a little."

But her fingers dug into the back of my hand, her nails carving several bloody lines into the skin.

I winced and yanked my hand back, then strode off the stage and walked alone to a quiet corner.

It's fine. Get through tonight, and I'll be free.

The sound of high heels came from behind me.

I turned and saw the pitiful look gone from Lily's face.

In its place was undisguised smugness, the crown glittering in her hair, the perfect picture of a fairy-tale wicked queen.

"You're his legal wife," she said, arms folded across her chest, brimming with triumph. "So what?"

"I'm already pregnant. Randolph promised me himself, my baby will be the next heir of the Farley family."

"If I were you, I'd get out on my own and keep a little dignity."

She was really pregnant?

The world spun, and I nearly lost my footing, but then I straightened my back and looked her dead in the eye.

"And what exactly are you? A whore who slept her way up by taking off her clothes, and you think you're fit to strut around in front of me?"

Lily's expression froze, as if it had never occurred to her that I could say something vicious too. Her mouth opened and closed, and for a long moment she couldn't force out a single word.

I swung my glass hard, and the red wine splashed all over her face. The red liquid ran down her chin in an ugly stream, staining a gown worth millions.

"A mistress who can't see the light should crawl back to the dark hole she came from. Don't come grovel in front of me!"

She shrieked and stumbled backward, and the next second the tears spilled over.

"Bang! "

A force slammed into me, and my back crashed against a pillar, the pain blacking out my vision.

Randolph had her wrapped in his arms, looking down at the wine and tears all over her face, aching for her.

"Melanie, what did you do to Lily?!"

Lily huddled against his chest, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe.

"I only came to thank Melanie, and she called me a whore and threw wine on me."

I watched her shoulders shake as she cried in Randolph's arms, watched him glare at me with a rage that burned like he was looking at an enemy, and I knew nothing I said would make him believe me.

I clenched my teeth and turned to leave.

Then, all at once.

"Fire!"

I spun toward the voice, stunned. The velvet curtains were burning, the flames licking up the carpet, and in the blink of an eye the place became a sea of fire.

The crowd began screaming and surging toward the exits, everything dissolving into chaos.

I ran with everything I had toward the escape route, only for Lily to shove me hard, and I went sprawling to the floor.

A violent pain shot through my belly, and on instinct I cried out to Randolph.

"Honey, help me—"

Randolph froze for a beat, then immediately reached his hand out toward me.

Before his fingertips could touch me, Lily threw herself crying into his arms. "My stomach hurts so much. Randolph, don't let our baby burn to death!"

Randolph's hand stopped in midair.

Then he drew it back and wrapped it around Lily's waist instead.

My eyes went wide, and my heart felt like it was being crushed in someone's fist.