Chapter 2

To finish me off, Julian rose and swept a cold look across every table.

"Anyone who helps Eve Mercer tonight is an enemy of mine. And of the Harringtons."

Every person in that room knew what that meant. The Harrington Group was the top of the Manhattan food chain. No one crossed Julian Harrington.

A few of my business partners had been half out of their chairs, ready to step in. The second they heard him, they dropped back down fast enough to rattle the glassware, terrified he'd seen them move.

"See? He means it."

"He cares more about the assistant than his own wife. That's telling."

"I figured it was just a fight. They're legally married. But no, he's really done with her."

"With that kind of warning, who the hell is going to help her?"

Something inside me snapped. I crossed to him, grabbed his wrist, and yanked him around to face me.

"Julian. You're seriously going to do this to me over some scheming little snake?"

He looked at me like I was dirt on his shoe, then backhanded me across the face.

The sound cracked through the room.

"Yes."

I stared at him. I couldn't make my brain work around it.

We'd been married three years. Three years of being the couple everyone envied. He'd been the one to chase me when I first moved to New York. At our wedding he'd stood in front of three hundred people and vowed he'd love me forever, he'd die for me, he'd never betray me.

Three years. That was all it took to dismantle every one of those promises with a frozen card and an open palm.

They were right about women like me. Marry up on your looks and you have no real standing. The moment a prettier, younger thing catches his eye, the penthouse lifestyle ends.

What he never understood was that I didn't marry him for the Harrington name or the Harrington money. I had more of both than he'd ever see. I married him because I loved him.

He saw the red rimming my eyes and pulled out a pocket square. Dusted off the hand he'd just hit me with, like I was something contaminated.

"You knew I cared about her. You couldn't let it go."

"Eve. If you can't settle this bill, I'm going to have the manager strip you to your underwear and walk you out the front door."

The room cheered like they were at a fight.

"Harrington's got guts, I'll give him that. Throwing his own wife out naked for a side piece."

"Not for long. After tonight she's going back to whatever alley he found her in."

The older men at the far tables were leaning forward now, appraising me like livestock.

"Let's find out if she's got the body to go with the face. Could be a nice little show."

My face burned.

He'd taken my card at the door. Played it off as chivalry. I was standing there in a Valentino couture gown with nothing in my clutch but a dead phone, and now I realized even the phone was dead because he'd planned it.

Every piece of this night. He'd planned every piece of it.