Coralie Sinclair woke up in the dim, luxurious penthouse suite of the Waldorf Astoria. Her entire body ached. Her muscles felt like they had been pulled tight and snapped.

She felt a heavy weight across her waist. She turned her head slowly against the silk pillowcase. Alec Montgomery lay beside her. His sharp jawline and straight nose looked cold even in his sleep. His breathing was deep and even.

Flashes of last night hit her brain like lightning strikes. Alec had been drunk. He had pinned her against the door. His kisses had been rough, out of control, burning her skin. Her heart hammered against her ribs so hard it hurt.

She held her breath. She carefully lifted his heavy arm. She moved inch by inch, terrified of waking him.

Alec muttered a low, slurred syllable in his sleep. His brows pulled together in a tight frown.

Coralie froze. Her bare back pressed flat against the cold silk sheets. She did not dare to blink. Her stomach tied itself into a tight knot.

She waited until his breathing smoothed out again. Then, she quickly threw off the blanket and slid out of the massive bed.

Her bare feet hit the thick carpet. The air conditioning blasted her skin, making her shiver violently.

She picked up her torn silk slip dress from the floor. She pulled it over her head with shaking hands.

She turned to look back at the bed. Her eyes locked onto the center of the mattress. Her blood ran cold.

There, on the pristine white sheets, was a dark red bloodstain.

Panic gripped her throat. She couldn't breathe. That physical evidence destroyed the boundary of their three-year contract marriage.

In Alec's eyes, she believed, she was nothing more than the perfect executive assistant. She reminded herself that she was just a convenient shield for his family trust fund. That, she told herself, was the deal.

If Alec woke up and saw that stain, he would think she crossed the line on purpose. He would think she was a greedy gold digger trying to use her body to secure her position as his real wife.

She had to protect her last shred of dignity. She walked quickly to the nightstand. She grabbed the half-empty glass of red wine left over from last night.

Her hand trembled, but she forced it steady. She tilted her wrist. She poured the dark red liquid directly onto the bloodstain.

The wine soaked into the fabric instantly. It spread out, covering the original mark completely. It just looked like a spilled drink now.

She let out a long, shaky breath. Her lungs burned.

She forced a bitter smile. She picked up her high heels and her blazer from the floor. She walked into the bathroom on her tiptoes.

Inside the marble bathroom, she locked the door. She turned on the shower to the highest pressure to drown out any noise.

She stood under the scalding hot water. She scrubbed her skin hard, trying to wash away the scent of mint and tobacco that belonged to Alec. Her skin turned red, but she kept scrubbing.

She dried off and walked into the expansive walk-in closet. She found one of her spare business suits hanging there, a standard arrangement for the CEO's top assistant in his permanent hotel suites. She stood in front of the mirror. She tied her hair back into a tight, flawless bun. She put on her professional mask.

She opened the bathroom door quietly. The man in the bedroom was still asleep.

She walked into the outer living room of the suite. She picked up her phone from the glass coffee table.

The screen lit up. A breaking news alert from a top entertainment outlet popped up.

She tapped it without thinking. A high-definition paparazzi photo filled her screen.

It was Dianna Beaumont. The Hollywood darling was walking out of LAX, wearing designer sunglasses and a bright smile.

The bold headline read: Hollywood Darling Dianna Beaumont Returns to the US After Three Years.

Coralie stared at Dianna's perfect face. A cold cramp twisted her stomach.

She knew better than anyone who Dianna was. Dianna was Alec's high school sweetheart. She was the untouchable first love he kept hidden deep in his heart.

This news hit Coralie like a physical slap to the face. It was a loud reminder. Her three-year role as a stand-in was over. The real lead was back.

She took a deep breath. She shoved her phone into her handbag. She straightened her spine and walked out of the suite. It was time to get a divorce.

Coralie stood in the corner of the hotel lobby. She watched the elevator numbers light up. Her fingers dug hard into her palms.

She pulled out her secondary work phone, a private number she strictly used for discreet corporate PR tasks. She dialed Isla Vance's number. Isla was an escort she had hired once for a corporate PR crisis.

"I need you at the Waldorf Astoria lobby right now," Coralie said into the phone. "I will pay double your hourly rate."

She hung up before Isla could argue. She walked over to the front desk. She used Alec's black card to order a strong black coffee and aspirin to the penthouse suite.

She took the service elevator back up. She slipped quietly into the outer living room of the suite.

Just as she closed the door, a low, painful groan came from the bedroom. Alec was awake.

Coralie adjusted her breathing. She switched into her cold, efficient executive assistant mode.

She picked up the room service tray. She walked into the bedroom with steady steps.

Alec was sitting up in the messy bed. He was pressing his fingers hard against his temples. The silk blanket slipped down, exposing his bare chest.

His eyes scanned the room like radar. They instantly locked onto the massive, dark red wine stain on the bedsheets.

His gaze turned dangerous. He rubbed his forehead, trying to piece together the wild, burning sensory memories of last night.

He looked up and saw Coralie standing by the door in her stiff business suit. His frown deepened.

"Who was the woman in my bed last night?" Alec demanded. His voice was hoarse and laced with anger.

Coralie looked straight into his eyes. Her voice was completely flat. "She was the date you brought back from the charity gala, sir."

Alec pinched the bridge of his nose. "I blacked out. But she didn't feel like a random woman."

Coralie's heart squeezed painfully in her chest. She kept her face blank. "She spilled the wine on purpose to demand more hush money."

Alec let out a cold laugh. "Bring her up here. Now. I want to see her face."

Coralie gave a slight nod. "Yes, sir."

She turned and left the bedroom. A layer of cold sweat coated her palms.

She took the elevator down to the lobby bar. She found Isla Vance sitting there, wearing a tight dress and heavy makeup.

Coralie handed Isla a thick envelope full of cash. She quickly explained the spilled wine and the hush money story.

Isla took the envelope and winked. "Don't worry, honey. I know exactly how to handle rich guys with hangovers."

Coralie brought Isla back up to the penthouse. She told Isla to go into the bedroom alone. Coralie stayed in the living room, listening by the door.

Alec's voice was ice-cold. He fired questions at Isla. Isla stuttered through the script Coralie gave her.

Less than two minutes later, Alec yelled, "Get out!"

Isla stumbled out of the bedroom. Her face was pale. She shrugged at Coralie, grabbed her purse, and ran out of the suite.

Alec walked out of the bedroom wearing a bathrobe. His dark eyes locked onto Coralie. He took slow, threatening steps toward her.

His tall frame cast a heavy shadow over her. "Where were you all night, Coralie?"

Coralie's fingernails dug deeper into her palms. "I went back to the corporate office to finish the quarterly reports. I slept at my desk."

Alec narrowed his eyes. He stared at her pale lips and her tight jawline. He was evaluating every word she said.

The silence stretched. Coralie felt like she was suffocating.

Finally, he looked away. "Get the car ready. We are going to the office."

A seed of doubt had been planted.

Coralie sat at her desk at Montgomery Enterprises headquarters in Manhattan. A white folder lay right in front of her. The courier had just dropped it off.

She took a deep breath. She picked up the folder and stood up.

She walked through the bright executive floor. Chloe Hayes, the junior assistant, asked if she needed coffee. Coralie shook her head.

She pushed open the heavy mahogany double doors. She walked into Alec's massive CEO office overlooking Central Park.

Alec was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, fixing his tie. He didn't turn around. "What is my next meeting?"

Coralie didn't answer. She placed the white folder squarely in the center of his black obsidian desk.

Alec turned around. He raised an eyebrow. He thought it was the quarterly financial report she claimed to have worked on all night.

He reached out and flipped the folder open. His eyes scanned the bold title on the first page.

Divorce Settlement Agreement.

Alec's hand froze. He snapped his head up. A dangerous storm brewed in his dark eyes. He stared at Coralie.

"What kind of game are you playing?" Alec asked. His voice was dangerously low and tight.

Coralie met his gaze. Her voice was completely steady. "Our three-year contract is up. I am terminating the marriage."

Alec took a long stride around the desk. He towered over her. "Is the family trust not paying you enough? Do you want a bigger cut?"

The words stabbed Coralie in the chest. She swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth. She flipped to the last page of the agreement. She pointed to her signature. "I am waiving all spousal support. I am leaving with nothing."

Alec looked at the clause. She didn't want a single cent. The anger in his chest didn't fade. It twisted into a violent, unexplainable frustration.

He grabbed the agreement. He ripped it in half right in front of her face.

The pieces of paper fluttered down to the plush carpet. "I decide when this marriage ends," Alec said coldly. "Not you."

He shoved past her shoulder, knocking her slightly off balance. He stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

Coralie stood alone in the huge, empty office.

Alec marched down the hall. He kicked open the door to the Chief Operating Officer's office.

Autry Myers jumped in his chair. He stared at his boss.

Alec slammed both hands onto Autry's desk. "Pull the security footage for the building. I want to know exactly where Coralie was last night."

Autry quickly typed on his keyboard. He pulled up the security logs.

The access logs showed Coralie’s badge swiping at the front entrance at 2:30 AM. She had carefully orchestrated the digital trail to cover her night at the Waldorf. The system didn't show her leaving until 6:00 AM.

Autry turned the monitor toward Alec. "Her badge was active, Alec. The logs put her in her office all night."

Alec stared at the grainy footage of Coralie leaving the building at dawn, looking exhausted. His suspicion faded, but the annoying frustration in his chest grew worse.

He turned to leave.

"Wait," Autry said. He hesitated. He handed Alec a tablet. "The private investigator just sent this."

It was a photo taken in the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria. The timestamp was right around the time Alec was carried up to his room drunk.

A woman wearing sunglasses was walking toward the elevators. Her face was partially hidden, but her figure and jawline were unmistakable.

Alec's pupils shrank. He recognized her instantly.

It was Dianna Beaumont.