I never planned to build a life with Asher Vance. We were too alike—two apex predators constantly at each other's throats. Our relationship was sparks and hostility, violent venting rather than affection.
So when my memory regressed to pure hatred and I discovered he had a mistress, I didn't feel betrayed. I felt relieved.
"I'm filing for divorce," I told Sophie.
"Divorce?" Her voice pitched up. "You? You worship the ground that man walks on. You'd never leave him."
Sophie was adamant I loved him to the bone—a conviction that baffled me. According to her, Asher treated me like a queen. But I knew myself. I wasn't the type to be moved by kindness or material gestures.
Was there a hidden reason I had stayed?
The next morning, I drafted the divorce agreement and placed it on the breakfast table.
Asher stared at the papers, jaw tightening. "I bring her home for one night, and you immediately jump to divorce?"
"Judging by the screaming last night, you two are clearly in love." I shrugged. "I'm stepping aside."
My words only fueled his rage. He snatched the agreement, tore it to confetti, and slammed me against the door. His grip on my wrists was iron, bruising.
"Listen to me," he hissed. "The only way you leave this marriage is as a widow. Divorce is not an option."
I stared into his furious eyes and slapped him. "Psycho."
"Morning."
Jessica sauntered out wearing nothing but Asher's dress shirt. Her neck and collarbone were a canvas of fresh bite marks.
"It's a bit hot in here," she murmured, tugging the collar wider to expose mottled skin on her chest.
She waited for tears or a defeated collapse. Instead, I walked over and pulled the fabric back up.
"Your chest is flat," I said. "Don't show it off. People might think we're starving you."
Her face twisted. She shot a pleading look at Asher.
He caught my arm, voice low. "Apologize."
I had no interest in arguing with a cheater and his mistress. I waved dismissively at the opulent living room.
"Fine. Take whatever you like. Consider it my apology gift."
Jessica's gaze swept the room before landing on the jewelry cabinet. She pointed at a specific piece. "I want that one."
Hundreds of rings, all rare gems worth fortunes. Yet with surgical precision, she'd chosen our wedding band.
Asher froze, eyes locking onto mine.
The housekeeper stepped forward. "Miss, you cannot take that. That is the Young Master and Madam's wedding ring."
I walked to the cabinet. "It's fine. Let her have it."
With my memories gone, the ring felt vaguely familiar but held no weight. I had drawers full of jewelry. Losing one band meant nothing.
I plucked the ring from its velvet cushion and tossed it to her.
Asher looked as though I'd struck him. "You're just... giving it away?"
I blinked. "Is it expensive?"
He stared into my indifferent eyes, teeth grinding. "Of course not."
Fueled by spite, he snatched the ring and slid it onto Jessica's finger. "Wear it properly."
He turned to leave, dragging her with him.
"Young Master," the housekeeper called, voice trembling. "Today is the Madam's birthday."
We both paused.
Jessica immediately slumped against him. "You should go with your wife, Asher. I know I've been waiting months for this cruise, but... I'm not important."
Asher's expression hardened. "Jessica has been looking forward to this trip. We have birthdays every year—missing one won't kill you. Besides, she's pregnant. Don't be petty."
I nodded. "Have fun."
He frowned. My lack of reaction unsettled him, but before he could analyze it, Jessica pulled him out the door.
Once they were gone, I dialed Sophie.
"I need a report," I said. "Every asset and enterprise under my name from the last ten years."
Ten years ago, I was a career-obsessed shark. Compared to a man whose heart had wandered, I was far more interested in cold, hard cash.
