PART 1

They thought I would arrive broken.

That was the entire reason the Montgomery family invited me to my ex-husband’s wedding in the first place.

The Montgomerys were old-money royalty in Chicago — powerful, ruthless, obsessed with appearances, and convinced that anyone without their last name was beneath them. Especially me.

The invitation wasn’t an act of kindness.

It was bait.

They wanted me sitting quietly in the back while my ex-husband, Ethan Montgomery, married a younger woman from a “better” family. They wanted to watch me suffer while the entire elite social circle of Illinois whispered about how completely I’d been replaced.

And Eleanor Montgomery — Ethan’s cold, calculating mother — made sure every detail of my humiliation was carefully prepared.

Including my seat.

Table 27.

Right beside the kitchen doors inside the massive lakefront estate in Lake Geneva.

Close enough to hear the staff shouting orders.

Far enough to remind me I no longer belonged.

But Eleanor made one catastrophic mistake.

She had absolutely no idea I wouldn’t be arriving alone.

The invitation smelled like expensive perfume and imported paper. I stood beside the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse overlooking downtown Chicago, turning the envelope slowly between my fingers.

Gold lettering announced the wedding of Ethan Montgomery and Caroline Hastings, daughter of a powerful U.S. senator.

I laughed softly.

Bitterly.