Vows Of Deception

Chapter One

I stared at the divorce papers on my kitchen table, my hands shaking so bad I could barely hold my coffee cup. Three years. Three years of marriage, and this is how it ends. A stack of papers and a check with more zeros than I could count.

The morning sun came through the window, making the papers glow white. They looked official. Final. Like my whole marriage was nothing more than a contract that could be ended with a signature.

"Sign them, Sophia," my best friend Lisa said from across the table. "He doesn't deserve another second of your time."

She was right. Michael Cross, billionaire CEO and my soon-to-be ex-husband, had made his choice. And that choice wasn't me. It was never me. It was always her. Vanessa Pierce, his first love, the woman who came back into his life six months ago and destroyed everything I thought I had.

I picked up the pen. My signature would make it official. I would no longer be Mrs. Cross. I would just be Sophia Hart again. The girl who fell in love with a man who could never love her back. The girl who thought she could be enough for someone like Michael Cross.

How stupid I had been. How completely blind.

"Did you read the settlement?" Lisa asked, pushing her dark curls behind her ear. She looked worried. She had been worried about me for months now, watching me waste away in this marriage that was killing me slowly.

I shook my head. I didn't care about the money. When I married Michael three years ago in that small courthouse ceremony, I thought we would build a life together. I thought the quiet vows, the simple gold band he had slipped on my finger, meant something real. But it was all a lie. Just another business deal for him.

"Sophia, you need to read it. He's giving you fifty million dollars."

My head snapped up. "What?"

"Fifty million. And the penthouse in Manhattan. The one you always loved. He's being very generous." Lisa's voice was careful, like she was afraid I might break.

Generous. The word made me sick. Like money could fix what he broke. Like money could replace the nights I spent alone in our huge bed, waiting for him to come home from work. Like money could erase the image burned into my brain of him with Vanessa at that charity gala last month, his hand on her waist, looking at her the way he never looked at me.

With love. With want. With everything I had been begging for.

"I don't want his money," I said, but my voice cracked. "I wanted him. That's all I ever wanted."

Lisa reached across the table and grabbed my hand. Her fingers were warm, real, the only solid thing in my world right now. "I know, sweetie. But you can't have him. So take the money. Take it and use it. Build the life you deserve. The life you always dreamed about before you met him."

Before Michael. When I was still Sophia Hart, struggling art student, working three jobs to pay for my mom's medical bills. When I thought love was simple and good men existed.

I looked down at the papers again. My name was printed in black ink next to his. Sophia Hart Cross. I had been so happy when I first saw those three names together. So stupid.

Maybe Lisa was right. Maybe this was my chance to start over. To be someone other than the woman Michael Cross threw away when his real love came back into his life.

I signed my name. The pen moved across the paper, smooth and final. Sophia Hart. Not Cross. Never Cross again.

The second the pen left the paper, my phone rang. The sound was loud in the quiet kitchen. I looked at the screen and my heart stopped.

Michael.

His name on my phone still made my stomach flip. Even after everything. Even after all the pain. I hated myself for it.

I declined the call. He had nothing to say that I wanted to hear. Not anymore. But then a text came through, and I couldn't stop myself from reading it.

Don't sign those papers. We need to talk. - D

Too late. Way too late.

I showed Lisa the message. Without a word, she grabbed my phone out of my hand and typed back, her fingers flying over the screen.

Too late. Already signed. Enjoy your life with Vanessa. Don't contact me again.

She hit send before I could stop her. "Lisa—"

"He needed to hear it," she said firmly. "You're done being his backup plan. You're done waiting for him to love you."

My phone rang again. And again. And again. Five calls in a row. I watched his name light up the screen each time, feeling something inside me break a little more with each ring.

Finally, I turned it off. The silence was somehow worse than the ringing.

"Good," Lisa said, nodding in approval. "Let him panic. Let him feel what you've been feeling."

She was right. I was done. I had to be done.

An hour later, someone knocked on my door. Hard. Loud. Angry. The sound echoed through my small apartment like thunder.

I knew who it was before I opened it. My body knew. My heart knew. Even after everything, I still knew the sound of his knock.

Michael stood in my doorway, and my breath caught. He looked like he had run all the way here. His perfect designer suit was wrinkled. His dark hair, usually styled perfectly, was a complete mess. And his gray eyes, those eyes that used to look at me with such cold distance, were wild with something I had never seen before.

Fear. Desperation. Panic.

"Sophia," he said, his voice rough like he had been shouting. His hand was braced against my doorframe, and I could see it shaking. "Tell me you didn't sign them. Please tell me you didn't sign them."

I wanted to lie. I wanted to tell him I hadn't. But I was done lying. Done pretending. Done being the woman who waited for Michael Cross to love her.