Chapter 1
934 Words
In my past life, my best friend and I were thick as thieves. We married into one of the wealthiest families together, and we got divorced together too.
But after the divorce, we had no money and no marketable skills, so we ended up dirt poor and scraping by.
In the end, we both died in our shabby rental apartment from a gas leak.
Our ex-husbands, though? One married his childhood sweetheart, the other shot straight to the top of his career. Life treated them pretty damn well.
When I opened my eyes again, reborn, my best friend and I were lying in the spa room of that giant mansion, staring at each other in shock.
"I'm not getting divorced anymore. Are you?"
I tore the divorce papers into tiny little pieces, so desperate to get rid of them I almost ate the scraps.
"Divorce? Only an i***t would get divorced!"
It took getting burned by real life to realize how easy we had it, as wealthy socialites. Being a wealthy wife is basically a total cakewalk.
Who could even understand that whiplash? One second, I was in that run-down low-rent apartment, fully conscious as the poison seeped through my body, my muscles going limp until my eyes finally drifted shut.
The next second, I was in an 8,600-square-foot mansion, getting an essential oil spa treatment so good my eyes were half-closed in pure bliss. It felt like divine intervention, straight up.
Amelia and I? We understood that feeling perfectly.
We'd just been staring at each other with teary eyes for a minute when there was a knock on the door.
It was my ex-husband.
Wait, no, ew, scratch that. It was my dear, sweet husband Rowan Logan's voice.
"Declan and I are waiting for you in the living room. I have a meeting later, and he has a flight to catch."
Oh, s**t. I almost forgot.
At this exact point in my past life, we'd already made it clear we wanted a divorce over and over. But every time we tried to schedule it, either Declan was off at a competition or Logan was out of town on business.
We'd gone back and forth with their assistants for three whole months to lock in today's divorce appointment.
We hurried to change our clothes, whispering back and forth to hash out a plan.
"It's just apologizing, sucking up, and taking a little scolding, right? We're tough girls, we can take a little humiliation to get what we want!"
"Hell yeah. No divorce, no matter what!"
Downstairs, Declan was sitting on the sofa reading a book, completely silent. Logan was standing with his back to us, and the cold aura rolling off him was terrifying.
I gave Amelia a pleading look, silently begging her to speak first and break the awkward silence.
"Uh..." Amelia stammered out, "Why are you back?"
Slap.
Declan slammed his book shut and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, dry and unamused. "Forgot already? Weren't you the one sticking pins in a voodoo doll of me, cursing me to lose my competition, so I'd fly home early to divorce you?"
Amelia snapped her mouth shut and shot me a desperate, "help me" look.
My voice came out shaking too. "Logan... what if we... don't get divorced?"
Logan huffed a cold, mocking laugh. "Not get divorced? Then how's that 6-foot college jock you've been seeing gonna upgrade from side-piece to your real husband?"
Fair. I shut my mouth too.
Back when we were dead set on getting divorced, we'd thrown out so many cruel lines just to twist the knife in those two brothers' hearts.
In the end, we'd gotten exactly what we wanted and walked away with our divorce papers signed.
We'd even acted all self-righteous and stubborn as mules, choosing to leave without taking a single cent from them.
Back then, we'd been spoiled rotten by those soon-to-be ex-husbands of ours. We had zero clue what real poverty felt like, and thought all that waited for us was endless, glorious freedom.
We had no idea, though, that freedom only existed when you had the cash to back it up.
We got rejected from every job we applied for, scammed out of every penny we tried to invest, and ended up so broke we could barely afford to eat.
Two total good-for-nothings, we tried to cook for ourselves once, forgot to turn off the gas, and ended up dead side by side.
At that memory, both of us shivered at the exact same time.
Amelia was the first to move. She inched over to Declan Rowan, putting on her most sweet, ingratiating smile.
"Hehe, I only said that to get you to come home and keep me company, that's all."
I copied her move immediately, jogging over and looping my arm through Logan's.
"I was messing with you. What's a 6-foot college jock with abs even compared to you?"
That wasn't even a lie, let's be real. We'd always had insanely good chemistry in that department.
We'd butt heads nonstop in front of other people, but the second we were alone? We were all over each other…
Logan Rowan froze for a split second, then turned his head to stare at my hand on his arm.
That was when I noticed the exhaustion pooling under his cold, sharp eyes.
He tugged at the corner of his mouth, his tone dry and dismissive.
"Alissa, cut the crap. You want stocks or cash? Spit it out. I don't have time to mess around with these silly games of yours."
- Writer
