Three days after we got our marriage certificate, Jason casually dropped that he'd handed the keys to our new place... to his ex, Nina Zeller.

I clenched my jaw. "So you just HAD to give our house key to your poor, delicate ex?"

He sighed. "She needed surgery. It was urgent. I'll get it back after."

I stared at him. That blank, serious face? I actually laughed.

I own a ton of properties. Even my managers have to book time to get in.

But Jason? First guy with the nerve to sneak his ex into my home.

"Do you even remember that was our newlywed home?" My voice could cut glass. "It was fully furnished. I hadn't even spent one night there."

Jason scowled. "Can you not be so dramatic? Nina's been through a lot. She came here for surgery, totally alone. She's broke, hotels cost a fortune, and the place was just sitting there. I thought she could stay a bit—it was an emergency."

"So she's broke, sick, and sad—so I'm just supposed to hand her our house?" My voice cracked sharp. "Who's supposed to pity ME, Jason? Just because I have money, I deserve this crap? I'm supposed to just take it?"

His face turned stormy. "How can you say that? I thought you were better than this. Nina just needs help. Can't you have a little compassion?"

Compassion? For his ex?

What am I, Mother Teresa?

"You know what real compassion is? Tossing a snack to a stray. Donating to a relief fund. NOT letting the girl who still wants your man move into your house like it's hers."

"Enough!" Jason slammed the table. "Wynne Warrington! Don't you dare talk about Nina like that! Nothing happened between us! You're dragging both our names through the mud!"

Nothing happened?

He gave his ex the keys to our newlywed home—three days in—and I'm supposed to buy that? Who's he trying to fool?

Watching him freak out over Nina, I felt my heart shut down.

"Jason, are you actually insane?" My voice was ice. "You wanna play tragic lover and shack up with your side chick? Fine. Let's get divorced. Send me back the money I dropped on that house. Then go fill it with chicks—I don't care."

That $3 million home? I paid in full. Title in my name.

Jason scoffed, full of smug. "Are you serious? You'll be a divorcée. You really think you'll land someone better after that? Who's gonna want you?"

He really thought I'd fold. Thought I was too in love to leave.

I stared him down, pulled out my phone. "Peter, come up and toss Mr. Palmer—and all his junk—out."

That smug look cracked. "You're actually doing this? I was just trying to help her. Do we really have to go this far?"

I stared him down, stone-cold. "Honestly? This is perfect. I'm not dumb. And maybe you forgot—my dad's Richard Warrington. I'm the only daughter of the richest man in Clouderton.

"Divorce me once or ten times—guys would still line up around the block.

"And you? You're nobody."

When my people dragged Jason out, he looked like he couldn't believe it.

I flopped onto the couch, totally wiped.

Three years with that guy—what a joke.

That night, a text popped up from some random number:

[So what if you and Jason got married?]

[He loves ME. He gave ME your honeymoon house. All you've got is a sad little marriage certificate.]

Nina.

Didn't even bother answering. Blocked. Deleted.

There was no love—just money. If Jason hadn't been kinda hot with a smooth mouth, I wouldn't have picked him.

A few minutes later, Jason updated his status.

There he was, all smug, with Nina cuddled up on his shoulder, trying to look sweet. She had on a diamond bracelet that caught the light just right.

I knew that bracelet. Gave it to him for his birthday—eighty grand.

So he used my gift to play Prince Charming? Cute.

The caption? Gag-worthy: [Every day is filled with sunshine when you're with the right person.]

No reaction. Just snapped a screenshot, added Nina's nasty texts, and shot it over to my dad.

[Dad, cancel the wedding party. I'm already filing for divorce.]

Dad called right away, voice blazing. "Wynne, that scum! How dare he! I'll have someone snap his legs and dump him—and that side chick—straight into the river!"

A warmth hit me.

"Dad, it's fine. I just want a quiet divorce. No drama. No headlines."

He sighed hard. "Alright, whatever you need. If it all goes to hell, I'll be the one holding it together for you."

***

The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed, dark circles screaming I hadn't slept. I was ready to call Jason and start the divorce.

But the second I stepped into the living room—bam. Couch packed. Jason, his parents, and Nina. All here. All smug.

Jason's mother, Margot, rolled her eyes the moment she saw me. "Finally! Look at the time. We've been waiting for breakfast! Jason didn't marry you so you could play princess. Show some respect!"

Jason's father, Christopher, jumped in, loud and smug. "Exactly. Get in the kitchen. I need my fresh-ground coffee."

I stared at this circus of fakes, so mad I almost laughed.

Before the marriage license? Margot was sugar-sweet—holding my hand, calling me a "good girl," acting like I was wasting away, dropping off homemade casseroles and vitamins like it was her job.

Christopher? Grinning like he was president of my fan club, dumping gifts on me like he had stock in a department store.

All of it? Fake.

Now that they've got the certificate? This is the real them.

I let out a cold laugh and pointed at the door. "Out. All of you. Or I'm calling the cops for trespassing."

Margot's smile twitched, but she slapped on her fake charm and grabbed my hand.

"Oh, sweetheart, don't be like that. We're family! How can that be trespassing?"

She flashed that sugary grin. "You're just upset. Christopher and I were only joking.

"Jason said you two had a little fight—don't take it out on him. And don't sink to Nina's level, okay? She's had it rough.

"But she's super helpful, hardworking. If she stays, she can help around the house. Isn't that nice?"

I nearly gagged. Yanked my hand back. "I don't need help. I've got money. I can hire maids."

Margot's smile cracked.

When the sweet talk flopped, she spun on Jason and smacked him hard. "You useless idiot! I'll beat you to death!"

She kept swinging, screeching the whole time. "This is all your fault! Look what you've done! How could you treat Wynne like that?"

Jason just stood there, clutching his face, totally shell-shocked.

When she finally ran out of steam, she turned back to me, dabbing at fake tears. "Wynne, honey, I'm so sorry. It's all Jason's fault. Last month, he got drunk with some friends and... something happened with Nina. Just once. She ended up pregnant. He didn't tell you 'cause he didn't wanna hurt you."

Boom. My brain just shut off.

Pregnant? Nina's pregnant?

She touched her flat stomach like she was in a drama special, tears rolling. "Wynne, don't blame Jason—it's on me... We just couldn't stop ourselves.

"But this is a life, and I couldn't go through with ending it. That's why I came. Jason only just found out.

"I know you two are married, but the baby's innocent. Don't worry, I won't ruin your relationship. Once I give birth, I'll leave. I promise."

I almost hurled.

So much for that "surgery" lie—she was totally fine.

They wanted me to accept a mistress. Be stepmom to their secret love child. That was the play.

Margot kept yapping. "Isn't this perfect? Nina gives birth, we keep the baby, and she's gone. Best of both worlds!"

"I don't want kids. I'm not stupid." I cut her off, ice-cold. "If you actually cared, you would've kept your legs closed.

"And even if it was an accident—ever heard of birth control? No, you two made a baby on purpose, wrecked a marriage on purpose, and now you wanna dump your bastard child on me?"

"Who the hell are you calling a bastard?" Jason barked, jabbing a finger at my face. "What's wrong with you? You're cruel! You're toxic! Whoever married you is cursed!"

I snapped right back. "Whoever ends up with a cheat like you must've burned all their good karma!"

We were already yelling when Nina snatched a mug of tea.

She stepped closer, full-on sobbing, holding it out like a truce flag.

"Wynne, please... I didn't mean any of this. I didn't seduce him on purpose. Just accept me and the baby..." She even added a shaky hand, like she was auditioning for pity.

"Get out!" I smacked the mug from her hands—tea splashed all over her.

Wasn't enough. I slapped her across the face.

Her cheek puffed up fast.

She gasped, then made her move—grabbed my wrist and flung herself backward like it was all staged.

"Wynne, fine, don't forgive me... but why push me? My baby..."

"Nina!" Jason lunged over and shoved me. "You vicious woman!"

My lower back cracked against the coffee table. Warm blood trickled down my face.

Jason didn't even look at me. He rushed to scoop Nina up, full panic mode. "Nina, hang in there. I'm taking you to the hospital!"

"Stop." I pressed my forehead, blood slick under my fingers, and stepped in front of them. "Jason Palmer, you're not leaving until we're divorced. Once those papers are signed, you can play house with her and your so-called love child. I'm done."

My words lit the Palmers up.

"You psycho! You're blocking us from the hospital?"

"You're trying to kill my grandson!"

"Beat this bitch to death!"

Margot and Christopher came at me, fists and feet flying.

Jason held Nina but still threw in kicks.

They closed in. I fought back, swinging hard, but I was outnumbered.

In the chaos, I grabbed my phone and hit speed dial. "Gabriel, they're attacking me. Get up here. Now!"

Ten seconds tops—two bodyguards in black stormed in and locked the Palmers down.

"What the hell? Let go!" Jason broke loose and lunged, hands choking me. "Wynne! What are you doing?! If something happens to Nina's baby, I'll kill you! Call them off! I need to get her to the hospital!"

I couldn't breathe.

Then—bam. One of the guards kicked him straight in the gut.

Jason hit the floor, hard.

That was it. If they didn't want a clean break, fine—no more games.

I grabbed my phone. "Dad, get over here. Bring the court clerk and the best OB-GYN you know. I'm ending this marriage today.

"And it's time this side chick gets put in her place. Let the doctor take a good look—let's see how 'at risk' her fake baby really is after my so-called push."

Yeah, we're doing this. Court clerk in the living room. Classic rich Dad power play.