Chapter 1Wiring Her Money Was His Habit

My mother’s pancreatic cancer took a sharp, brutal turn, and I found myself sobbing into the phone, begging Carter for the $150,000 we needed for a last-resort experimental treatment.

He promised to wire it immediately. I sat in the sterile chill of the hospital waiting room for three agonizing hours. What I saw instead, while endlessly refreshing my phone, was Harper’s Instagram story: a screenshot of a $150,000 wire transfer hitting her bank account, captioned with a heart.

My mother died in the quiet, unforgiving hours of the early morning. Carter’s money didn’t arrive until the sun was up, far too late.

Later, Carter stood before me in a bespoke Tom Ford suit that cost more than a car, his face a mask of mild inconvenience.

"I've been transferring money to Harper a lot lately for the new portfolio," he said, adjusting his cuffs. "It was muscle memory. A simple mistake."

Harper stood beside him, the diamonds of the $150,000 necklace he’d bought her resting against her collarbone. Her red lips curled into a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Maddie, please," she murmured, her voice dripping with weaponized sympathy. "I'm sure Diana is looking down from heaven right now, and she completely understands. You really shouldn't make a scene. Carter’s career is at a critical juncture, after all."

Six years of absolute devotion. Six years of building a life together, reduced to a punchline. To them, my mother’s life was nothing but collateral damage on their climb to the top.

I clenched my fists so hard my manicured nails bit into my palms. Blood and tears fell in tandem, hitting the pristine, icy linoleum of the hospital floor.

* * *

A sea of black umbrellas. The low, mournful hum of a cello playing through the pavilion speakers.

I stood before my mother’s casket, the cold wind whipping my hair across my face, my fingers white-knuckling the phone in my pocket. I had just hit 'send' on a single email.

I accept the offer. I'll be in New York in three days.

I looked down at my mother’s peaceful face, the lines of pain finally smoothed away. I could still feel the phantom weight of her frail hand in mine, could still hear her final, breathless whisper:

Maddie, my sweet girl. Don't ever shrink yourself down just to fit into someone else's life.

I hear you, Mom. I finally hear you.

"Madeline Frost! Do you honestly think playing the tragic orphan is going to win you any sympathy points? Carter isn't coming back to you!"

The sharp, grating voice cut through the somber quiet of the cemetery. Harper pushed her way through the crowd of mourners, a vivid splash of scarlet against the sea of black. She was wearing a tailored crimson suit, her Christian Louboutin heels clicking aggressively against the wet stone pathway.

She gestured wildly at the floral arrangements. "Look at all this! I have to admit, Maddie, your little performance is top-tier!"

I turned slowly. Carter was trailing a few steps behind her, a look of profound irritation etched onto his handsome face. He was wearing his standard charcoal mourning suit, but tied neatly around his neck was a crimson silk tie—the exact shade of Harper's suit. A tie she had bought him.

He was wearing another woman’s colors to my mother’s funeral.

"Shut your mouth," I said. My voice wasn't loud, but it possessed a jagged edge that sliced through the murmuring crowd. "You are not welcome here."

The guests froze. Conversations died in their throats. Every eye darted toward us.

Carter frowned, slipping effortlessly into that condescending, authoritative tone I used to mistake for leadership.

"Maddie, lower your voice. Look at where we are. Don't make this harder on your mother's memory than it needs to be."

My vision blurred with a rage so pure it felt like a religious experience.

Who made it hard on her memory? Who starved her of her last fighting chance by giving her lifeline to his shiny new toy?

"Carter," I rasped, the sound tearing out of my throat like shattered glass. "How dare you even speak her name standing on this grass?"

Harper immediately shrank back, looping her arm through Carter’s and pressing her chest against his bicep.

"Carter, just let it go," she whispered loudly enough for the front row to hear. "Losing a parent makes people completely unstable. Though, Maddie..." She looked at me with wide, Bambi eyes. "Throwing a tantrum like this? It's really not a good look for your mother's legacy."

Every word was a perfectly calculated strike.

I looked at her, my voice eerily calm. "My mother’s legacy requires zero input from a woman who sleeps her way onto a cap table."

"Excuse me?!" Harper gasped, her hand flying to her chest. Tears sprang to her eyes with terrifying speed. "I am just trying to be supportive! After all, we're both Carter's..."

"Enough." Carter cut her off, but his glaring eyes were fixed squarely on me. "Madeline, when are you going to stop this hysterical crusade?"

I stared at the man standing before me. The man I had pulled all-nighters for. The man whose startup I had built from the ground up. He was actually standing over my mother's grave, scolding me.

A laugh bubbled up in my chest. A dark, hollow sound that startled even me. I was laughing at my own six-year blindness. At my pathetic, unwavering loyalty.

"From this second forward, Carter, we have absolutely nothing to discuss."

I reached into my black clutch and pulled out the crisp, white envelope I had carried for three days. With a flick of my wrists, I tore the resignation letter in half, then into quarters, letting the pieces flutter like snow over the damp grass.

"I, Madeline Frost, officially resign as Head of Acquisitions." I looked him dead in the eye. "Orion Capital, you, and your little parasite over there—you are dead to me."

Dead silence draped over the cemetery. I turned my back on them, facing my mother’s portrait resting among the white lilies.

"Watch me, Mom," I whispered, the dam finally breaking as hot tears tracked down my frozen cheeks. "I'm going to build my own empire now. I'm done being the architect for someone else's."

The memories of the last six months crashed over me, a suffocating wave of deceit.