I left my boyfriend, Lachlan Shaw, when he had nothing. Later, he became a tech giant and used his newfound power to force me into marriage.
While all of Seattle knew I was his wife, he paraded another woman on his arm, making me the city's laughingstock. I, however, couldn't bring myself to care.
My coldness enraged him. In the privacy of our mansion, he would corner me, his voice harsh, demanding to know why I wasn’t jealous.
What he didn’t know was that my illness was in its final stages.
He could use his capital to buy half the city, my freedom, and my marriage… and he could flaunt his mistress for the world to see, all without ever knowing the truth.
He didn't know I only had seven days left to live.
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1
On my birthday, my doctor informed me I had only a week left.
He recommended an experimental targeted therapy, promising it would ease my suffering at the end.
Less time than I’d hoped for. My life was unraveling faster than I could have ever imagined.
I wasn't afraid of dying, but I was terrified of the pain.
The doctor said it was an expensive drug that could buy me a more dignified end. Each injection cost a hundred thousand dollars; a five-day course came to half a million.
Five hundred thousand dollars…
To a tech mogul like Lachlan, that was less than a rounding error on one of his properties. To me, it was an impossible sum.
To pay for the treatment, I had to find Lachlan. And there, I ran into Sloane Ramsey, his public relations director and his very public mistress.
Sloane shot me a disdainful look. "So, this is the famous Mrs. Shaw? People say I resemble her, but I just don't see it. You look awful."
The glass curtain wall reflected my image. My face was ashen, with dark, bruise-like shadows under my eyes. I wore no makeup, swallowed by a heavy winter coat.
She was right. I did look awful. And I was dying. I’d grown used to the stranger staring back at me.
"That's because Mrs. Shaw has been sick," one of Lachlan's assistants whispered, tugging on Sloane's sleeve. "I'm warning you—just because Mr. Shaw favors you now, don't start trouble with her."
“You have no idea how he used to dote on her. He’d throw you into Puget Sound to feed the orcas if you upset her.”
Sloane rolled her eyes, her skepticism blatant. She clearly didn't believe Lachlan cared that much about me.
She leaned closer, a triumphant smirk on her face. "Cora, what are you still doing here? No matter how busy Lachlan is, he always makes time for me first. He already promised I'd be his companion for the upcoming business trip to Europe."
Sloane’s smile was a deliberate barb. Her brazen arrogance reminded me of myself, years ago.
I couldn't blame her for being smug. After all, Lachlan truly did treat her differently.
He always had a string of women around him, but none ever lasted.
Sloane was the only one who had remained by his side this long.
I gazed at Sloane and offered a faint smile. My words, however, were merciless. "If he cherishes you so much, why are you still just an employee reporting to his wife?"
"Instead of wasting your breath here, you'd be better off convincing him to divorce me sooner."
Sloane was young and hot-tempered. Her expression soured instantly. “The person he doesn’t love is the third wheel. That’s you! What do you have besides that empty title? Lachlan loves me!”
An assistant, worried the scene would escalate, quickly escorted Sloane away. It didn't matter to me.
I'd decided long ago not to fight another woman for a man who didn’t love me. He wasn't worth it.