My husband loved me behind closed doors. In public, he chose the Ashford name over me.
For six years, Gabriel had my loyalty, my work, my body, and my heart.
I believed that when it truly mattered, he would finally choose his wife.
Then a sapphire went missing.
He had one chance to stand beside me.
He stepped away.
So did I.
Now the billionaire who failed me wants me back.
He can apologize. He can beg. He can burn for me.
None of that is enough.
I want consequences he cannot buy his way out of. I want actions that cost him. I want proof that I will never come second again—even if I never give him another chance.
The worst part?
My body remembers my husband.
My heart remembers what he did.
But desire is not forgiveness. Regret is not redemption. And this time, Gabriel does not decide how our story ends.
I do.
