On day two of Matthew's so-called business trip, I was wiping down the counter when I said, "Auri, play some music."

Instead of music, a syrupy voice chirped,

"Sure thing, my Baby Moon. Oh, and Matthew, don't forget Bibi's birthday surprise tonight."

I froze. The speaker blasted some random playlist, but all I heard was 'Bibi.' Matthew Kein was my husband. So who the hell was Bibi?

I called him. "Did you mess with our smart speaker?"

A beat of silence, then his fake laugh. "Oh, a buddy dropped by. Probably logged his account in. Why?"

I laughed back like I bought it, then hung up. Two taps later, I was scrolling the login history, already hailing a cab to the company tied to that mystery account.

The cab dropped me off in front of Nebula Studio.

Glass façade flashing in the sun, all sharp and showy—pretty much their whole brand. Two years in the game and already trying to outshine Dreamforge Studio.

The receptionist was professional, no shade thrown even though I was Dreamforge's co-founder. She just picked up the phone.

Then out came a girl in a white dress, hair down to her waist, no makeup, playing the sweet-and-pure card.

Abigail Barne.

Her eyes widened for a split second—busted—but she smoothed it over fast with a shy little smile.

"Hi, may I ask who you are?"

"My smart speaker," I shot back, steady. "Login records trace to your account."

"Oh, that speaker!" She smacked her forehead like she just had the dumbest epiphany. "That was my roommate. She borrowed my phone—her membership expired. Did it mess anything up? I'm so sorry!"

Her excuse was airtight, all wide-eyed innocence. Cute. If I didn't know Matthew, maybe I'd buy it. But him? Mr. Proud-and-paranoid? He'd never let some intern link her account to his home devices.

My eyes slid from her angel face to her wrist.

Silver bracelet. Two rings linked together. Tiny engraving: MK.

Last year, I sketched that design myself, had a craftsman friend make it for Matthew.

MK—Matthew Kein. One of one.

Abigail saw me staring and tried to hide her hand behind her back.

I smiled, stepping in close, voice soft. "Cute bracelet. Boyfriend gift? He's got solid taste."

Her face went ghost-white. Lips shaking. Nothing came out.

That was enough.

I didn't spare her another glance. Just turned and walked out.

Back in the cab, I called Donna—my best friend and the fiercest divorce lawyer alive.

The line clicked. "Well, well, our star designer calls? What, pigs flying today?"

"Do me a favor." I watched the streets blur past, my voice ice. "Check someone. Intern at Nebula Studio, Abigail Barne. And grab Matthew's last six months of financials, hotel bookings—everything. Don't miss a detail."

Donna's tone dropped, serious now. "...That's basically a full sweep."

"Worse."

I hung up. The cab sank into silence.

Matthew's name lit up my screen. 'Hubby.'

The word stung like a bad joke. I took a long breath and picked up.

"Selene, what's wrong?" Smooth as ever, his voice warm, laced with fake concern. "Donna said you asked her to check on something. Trouble at work?"

Of course. Eyes and ears everywhere.

I swallowed the rage, kept my tone flat. "No. Just... missed you."

He sighed like he'd been holding his breath, then gave a soft chuckle. "Silly girl, I miss you too. Once this project's done, I'll fly back right away to be with you, my Baby Moon."

Baby Moon.

The words drilled into my skull. My grip on the phone turned my knuckles white.

So I wasn't the only moon.

Maybe I never had been.

Donna worked faster than the FBI. Half an hour later, my phone buzzed.

A link. And her snark: [Presenting the performance of the year from our fake-sweetheart actress. Evidence chain so airtight I feel guilty charging you full price. Enjoy.]

I tapped it open. Abigail's public account.

Front and center: a close-up of her wrist flaunting the MK bracelet I knew by heart.

Caption: [The moon is coming to you, MR. K.]

My "Baby Moon."

My MK bracelet.

Now paraded around as someone else's prize.

Expressionless, I kept scrolling.

One shot—our study. Abigail cupping her face, smiling like butter wouldn't melt, with my rare Italian architecture books stacked in the background.

Caption: [Soaking up knowledge in MR. K's study, I feel like I'm improving too!]

Next—her holding a pen over a blueprint. Not just any pen—the limited-edition one I gave Matthew for his thirtieth.

Caption: [The pen MR. K gave me is amazing. He said my hands deserve the best.]

Then our favorite restaurant, table lined with my go-to dishes.

Caption: [Our secret spot. He said I'm the only one who makes him feel truly at ease.]

Each post cut deeper, turning memories into blades.

Then came the kicker—three days ago. Abigail, grinning with a printed draft.

Caption: [MR. K stayed up late helping me revise this. He said I'm the most inspired designer he's ever seen and that I'm sure to win the Horizon Spire project. Fighting!]

Horizon Spire.

Dreamforge's crown jewel. Six months of my life. My career's milestone.

I shot off the couch, grabbed my keys, and stormed out.

The office sat empty at this hour. I pressed my fingerprint to the lock and headed straight for Matthew's office.

His computer lit up with our wedding photo as the screensaver. His smile—soft, tender.

It made me sick.

I tapped a key. Password box popped up. My birthday? Wrong. Our anniversary? Wrong again.

I smirked and typed in Abigail's birthday.

[Welcome.]

The desktop was spotless, except for one folder screaming at me. Encrypted. I clicked. Inside—Dreamforge's Horizon Spire plan, finalized. Every line, every detail, six months of my team's blood and sweat.

Beside it sat another folder, marked with just two letters: AB.

I opened it.

The design was basically ours—just tweaked in a few key spots, enough to dodge patents but still scream Dreamforge.

At the bottom: one word. [Abigail.]

He hadn't just cheated. He was handing over my work—our future—like a stepping stool for his side chick.

Bile crawled up my throat. I gripped the cold desk, holding myself upright.

Turns out jealousy and betrayal can warp a guy till he's unrecognizable.

The Horizon Spire bidding hall buzzed like a hive.

I slid into a corner, eyes locked on Nebula Studio's rep.

Abigail.

Gone was her sweet intern act. Today she strutted up in a power suit, hair pinned tight, makeup on point—like she actually belonged here. Cute.

She took a breath.

"My inspiration came from the eye of the city. We hope this won't just be a cold structure, but a living body that breathes with the city and bears witness to its growth..."

Yeah. My words. My nights, my caffeine, my bloodshot eyes. Every line I'd whispered to Matthew when I still thought he was on my side.

I used to think those words were our deepest connection.

Turns out, it was just me talking to myself while he quietly pocketed everything.

My gaze landed on the judges' table, and wow, the irony stung.

Matthew sat there like some VIP—perfect suit, perfect hair, playing the part of the golden boy. He leaned forward, nodding along like Abigail was reciting scripture. The way he looked at her? Pure pride. A look he never once wasted on me.

To him, I was scenery. Background noise.

My phone buzzed. Donna.

[Want me to crash this with a baseball bat?]

I smirked and tapped back: [Hold tight.]

Onstage, Abigail hit her big finish. The screen lit up with my renderings—straight off my stolen files.

The room gasped. Then came the applause, loud enough to rattle the walls.

The host beamed. "Thank you, Ms. Barne. Now, let's hear from our special guest judge, Dreamforge Studio's own Mr. Matthew Kein."

The mic landed in his hand.

He gave Abigail that soft look, the kind he'd never wasted on me. "Honestly? I'm impressed. Ms. Barne's design balances artistry and practicality perfectly. Those adjustments to the structure? Bold—truly INSPIRED."

Inspired. His little dagger of a word.

He let the pause drag, scanning the crowd like a king on parade.

"I believe this work is today's clear winner."

Applause crashed again, louder, sharper.

My heartbeat drowned everything else out.

The host grinned, clutching the mic. "Thank you, Mr. Kein, for such high praise! Looks like Nebula Studio's the clear frontrunner. Any questions for Ms. Barne?"

Silence.

Matthew's seal of approval was gospel. No one dared push back.

Abigail beamed like she'd just been crowned.

I slid my phone away and stood. Chairs squeaked, claps stalled, every head swiveling my way.

The host blinked. "And you are...?"

Matthew's smile locked in place.