Chapter 1Her Lookalike Lover My Secret Daughter

It was during a game of Truth or Dare that Valerie decided to drop the bomb.

"Actually, the night before our wedding, Cameron and I checked into a hotel together."

In a heartbeat, the air was sucked out of the room. Every pair of eyes shifted to me, heavy with a suffocating, pitying weight.

Valerie leaned back against the plush leather of the VIP booth sofa, nursing her drink. She looked completely at ease, just waiting for me to lose my mind.

Instead, I gave a calm, measured nod.

"I have something I’ve been keeping from you, too," I said. "I have a daughter. She’s seven."

* * *

The private room went dead silent. You could have heard a pin drop.

It took a long, agonizing moment before Brooke, Valerie’s self-appointed best friend, scrambled to break the tension.

"Nathan... God, Nate, Val is just messing around," Brooke laughed, a shrill, nervous sound. "Your joke isn't exactly funny, either."

I cut her off. "I’m not joking."

Valerie shifted. Her posture straightened, and that smug, playful glint in her eyes began to freeze over.

"Nathan," she said, her voice dropping to a low, warning register. "Do you have any idea what you’re saying right now?"

Right on cue, Cameron leaned a fraction closer to Valerie. He had that soft, almost fragile cadence down to a science.

"Nate," Cameron murmured, his eyes big and earnest. "I know you're in a bad mood tonight, but you really shouldn't joke about something like that. If what Val said upset you... I'm so sorry. I apologize on her behalf."

As he spoke, the rims of his eyes turned a delicate shade of pink. The perfect picture of the long-suffering victim.

Watching his little performance, I actually let out a genuine laugh.

"I'm not joking, and I'm not in a bad mood. It’s just that listening to you two talk about the past reminded me that it's probably time I came clean about a few things, too."

Valerie let out a sharp scoff, slamming her cocktail glass down on the glass table. The ice clinked violently.

"Nathan, if you can't handle the game, just leave. There's no need to say this kind of garbage just to get a rise out of me."

"Exactly," Cameron chimed in, perfectly synchronized. "Whatever happened between Val and me, it’s in the past. If it really bothers you, I can explain everything. You don't need to invent some imaginary kid just to throw a tantrum."

I met Valerie’s stare head-on. "I'm not throwing a tantrum. I’m not lying. I have a child. A seven-year-old girl."

This time, even Brooke’s nervous smile vanished.

The rest of the friends in the booth, who had been aggressively pretending to look at their phones, snapped their heads up. Their gazes darted back and forth between Valerie and me like they were watching a tennis match.

Valerie’s face cycled through a spectrum of emotions before settling into a cruel, mocking smirk. "Seven? Nathan, we’ve been married for six years. Care to tell me where exactly you conjured up a seven-year-old daughter?"

"She was born before the wedding," I said simply.

"Impossible," she hissed, her jaw tight. "I’ve known you for eight years. You think you could hide a kid from me?"

But I saw the flicker in her eyes. The anger was morphing into suspicion, and the suspicion was curdling into something darker, something deeply unsettled. I could practically see the gears turning in her head, frantically scanning the last eight years for any blind spots, any missing hours.

Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Cameron decided to intervene.

"Well, Nate, if you really have a kid, why don't you bring her around?" He tilted his head, flashing a sweet, innocent smile. "We’d love to meet our new little niece."

There was a faint, taunting edge to his mouth. He thought he was calling my bluff.

"There's no need," I said flatly.

"Why not?" Cameron pressed, his tone dripping with fake concern. "Is she shy? Or..." Or does she not exist? He left the implication hanging in the air.

"She has no desire to know people like you," I said.

Cameron’s smile shattered.

Valerie stared at me, a violent storm brewing in her dark eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but for once, the words failed her.