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Chapter One Thursday, October 5th, Honey & Riley's Apartment 8:07pm Honey dragged herself up the last few stairs to her apartment, briefcase in one hand, takeout in the other. The day had been exhausting and her back ached from hunching over spreadsheets for nine hours straight, and her eyes burned from staring at financial projections until the numbers blurred together. All to prepare Grayson Taylor's Boston presentation. She wasn't one to leave things to the last minute, but they had only sent her the numbers this morning, giving her little time to confirm everything and give her detailed report to Grayson. "The man couldn't even say, 'thank you,'" she muttered, fumbling with her keys. Not that she'd stuck around long enough to hear if he would. The moment she'd emailed the completed files; she'd bolted from the office before he could find another impossible task for her to complete. She didn't think he would, but she just hadn't taken the chance. The apartment was silent when she entered…no surprise there. Riley had texted earlier: Partner dinner tonight. Don't wait up. There had been a heap of late nights lately… client dinners and paperwork to complete for the meeting the next day. Honey kicked off her sensible pumps, letting them fall where they may. The clock on the wall read 8:07 PM. She sighed, knowing she should be grateful for the quiet evening ahead. Just her, some Thai food, and maybe some mindless TV. She peeled off her work blazer… a drab, oversized one that helped maintain her "Joy Smith" work persona, and tossed it onto the kitchen counter. Next came the glasses she didn't need, followed by the hairpins that kept her high-quality shoulder length brown wig in place. It had been made for her and high quality because her father would kill her if she dyed her natural red hair. Her reflection in the window caught her eye. The transformation was already beginning, starting with Joy fading, Honey emerging. She went to the living room in her stockinged feet, set down the bag of takeout, and flopped onto the sofa. Something stuffed at the back of the sofa cushion caught her eye. Maybe because it was hot pink. "What the—" Honey shifted, digging between the cushions where her fingers caught the lace fabric. She pulled it out, holding it up. A hot pink thong dangled from her fingertips. Honey stared at it, her mind refusing to process what she was seeing. The garment was definitely not hers… she hadn't worn anything remotely that color since college. And it certainly wasn't something Riley would wear unless he had taken up crossdressing. So, there was no reason for the tiny piece of clothing to be in their home. That left only one possibility. Her stomach lurched. The Thai food forgotten, she dropped the underwear as if it had burned her. For a moment, she sat perfectly still, the apartment's silence suddenly oppressive rather than peaceful. "That son of a bitch," she whispered. Her husband was cheating on her. She should have suspected, of course. The late nights and last-minute business trips. Let's not forget the scent of perfume on his clothes. Which he had always explained away, calling her paranoid. The way he barely touched her anymore. Not that she thought that was honestly a big loss. But suspecting an affair was one thing. Holding physical evidence was another entirely. Honey picked up the thong again, forcing herself to examine it more carefully. Expensive, by the feel of the fabric. The size was extra small. A laugh bubbled up in her throat. All those times she'd blamed herself for not being exciting enough, for being too focused on work, for letting herself become the dull, sexless woman Riley claimed she was. And all along, he'd been betraying her. She should be devastated. She should be crying or screaming. Instead, a strange calm settled over her. Riley's cheating wasn't a surprise—not if she was honest with herself. She just hadn't wanted to face it. To admit she had made a mistake marrying him. Having the proof that something was indeed going on gave her the permission she needed to leave him. She just needed undeniable proof to keep what was hers. She had been a virgin on her wedding night. So, leaving him wouldn't be easy for her. She had taken vows, and she took those vows very seriously. She wished now in a lot of ways she had taken him for a test drive before their wedding. It might have saved her this. Honey pulled out her phone, opened the camera app, and took several photos of the thong from different angles, making sure to capture it against the backdrop of their living room. Then she walked to the kitchen and dropped the panties into a zip lock bag before she dropped them into her handbag. Grabbing a wine glass and a bottle of red wine, she headed back into the living room, she uncorked the wine. Well, discovering your husband's infidelity was reason enough to get drunk if nothing else. She poured herself a generous glass and settled back onto the sofa avoiding the spot where she'd found the thong and finally opened her takeout. As she ate her Pad Thai directly from the container, she scrolled through her phone until she found the contact she was looking for: Ben Walters, the private investigator her father had used for corporate matters in the past. Honey: Need your services for a personal matter. Discretion essential. Available to meet tomorrow? She hit send, then set her phone aside. No crying. No desperate calls to friends. No confronting Riley when he eventually stumbled home, lying and denying everything and gaslighting her. He was very good at that. Blaming her. No, she was going to play this smart. He really was an idiot, or so cocky he had believed he wouldn't get caught. Her phone buzzed with Ben's response: Ben: Hi Honey, Available at 11:30 AM. My office or yours? Honey took another sip of wine. Honey: Yours. I'll be there. Thank you. She set down her phone and leaned back against the cushions. For months… no, years, really, she'd been living an unhappy life. And for what? A man who couldn't keep his dick in his pants. The pink thong wasn't just evidence of Riley's betrayal. It was permission to stop pretending. To get on with her life. Her phone buzzed again, picking it up, she saw a message from Riley: Dinner running late. Staying at Paul's place tonight. Too much to drink. A fresh wave of anger surged through her. She knew Paul. His "buddy" from law school who lived in a sleek bachelor pad downtown. The perfect alibi. How many times had Riley used this excuse? How many times had Paul been willing to cover for him? Birds of a feather. She didn't bother responding to the text he could see she had read it. Instead, she finished her wine and poured another glass. Three years of marriage. Three years of being miserable, of pretending to be someone she wasn't, of tolerating Riley's increasingly controlling behavior. Three years of no orgasms. That last thought made her snort into her wine glass. Riley had convinced her she was frigid, that her inability to climax with him was her problem, not his. Yet another lie in a marriage built on them. Because she had become wetter with her fantasies and fingers than Riley had ever made her. Honey retrieved her laptop from her briefcase and opened a new document. If she was going to do this, hire Ben dad's PI, gather evidence, divorce Riley, she needed to be methodical. That's what she was good at, after all. Seeing patterns in numbers was her thing. She began typing, creating a timeline of suspicious events over the past months. Late nights. Unexplained expenses on their credit card statements. The teenage housekeeper Riley had insisted on hiring, against Honey's objections. The housekeeper. Nineteen years old. Perky, blonde, and constantly fluttering around, Honey had dismissed her own discomfort as petty jealousy. Brittany would fit into those panties very easily. But she was no live-in housekeeper, therefore, no reason for them to be here. " idiot," she muttered to herself, gulping more wine, before holding her glass up in a toast. "Thank you, whoever you are," she whispered to the absent owner of the pink thong. "You just set me free." Chapter Two The Same Day Night Grayson knew he should have been in Boston by now, and yet, there he was, standing in front of his Upper West Side brownstone, a victim of the changeable New York weather. Hail had pummeled the tarmac, which in turn had dismissed all hope of air travel, and sent him home for the night. He had rebooked a flight early tomorrow morning with enough time he needed to arrive for the meeting in Boston… Just In turn, it gave him an opportunity to surprise Morgan. Glancing down the street at the brownstones, this was a great place to raise kids, and when he had slipped the engagement ring on Morgan's finger six months ago, she had agreed to move in and have their family here someday. Using his key, he let himself in, soft jazz drifted through the hallway to greet him. Grayson dropped his briefcase by the door, loosened his tie. He considered calling out, announcing his arrival, but paused when he heard laughter coming from the master bedroom. Two women. Morgan and... someone else. Disappointed that they wouldn't have the evening to themselves, but he really couldn't complain. He hadn't planned to be here. If Morgan had invited a friend over to keep her company that was fine by him. Grayson smiled. More laughter echoed down the hall, followed by whispers he couldn't quite make out. He hung his coat on the rack, figuring he'd grab a drink before interrupting their girl talk. Heading into the lounge to grab a whiskey before seeing what Morgan was up to. Knowing his luck, they were going through Morgan’s wardrobe and there would be a mountain of clothing laying over their bed. The laughter grew louder as he approached the bedroom. Giggles. Hushed words. A sound that might have been a moan. He stopped, hand hovering over the doorknob. A voice that wasn't Morgan's said, "Baby just like that." Morgan responded with a sound Grayson recognized all too well. Pleasure. His stomach dropped. The hairs on his arms stood up. A cold feeling spread through his chest. He knew before touching the door what he was about to walk in on. But he pushed open the door anyway. He couldn't hide from the knowledge. He needed to face it and them head on. Just like he handled business. But he wasn't quite ready for the sight that greeted him. Morgan lay sprawled across their king-size bed, naked, her blonde hair fanned out across his pillow. On top of her was a brunette woman, equally naked, the fingers of one hand tangled in Morgan's hair, he couldn't see where her other hand was, but he could guess. Time stopped. The world tilted on its axis as Grayson stood frozen in the doorway, unable to process what he was seeing. He’d known—sure—even prepared himself for it—but seeing it was something else. Then Morgan looked up as if sensing him, her eyes widening with shock. "Grayson!" She scrambled out from under the other woman, grabbing for the sheet. "You're supposed to be in Boston!" The brunette sat up, making no effort to cover herself, a smirk playing at her lips. Grayson recognized her. Tina. His sister Emma's friend. The one he'd meet at his sister's engagement party. "Flight got canceled." His voice sounded distant, like it belonged to someone else. "Hail." Morgan pulled the sheet up to her chin. "Baby, I can explain." Tina laughed, a short, sharp sound. "Can you really?" Grayson stepped into the room. The jazz still played from the stereo system in the corner of the room, which explained why they hadn't heard him come in. He hadn't tried to be quiet, because he hadn't realized what she had been hiding from him. That thought made him ask his next question. "How long?" His voice was steady. Calmer than he felt. Morgan looked at Tina, then back at him. "It's not what you think." "How. Long." Each word clipped, precise. "It's nothing serious, just—" "Answer the question, Morgan." His hands balled into fists at his sides. She looked down at the rumpled sheets. "Soon after Emma's engagement party." Eight months. Eight months of lies. The engagement party. The day Morgan had met Tina as well. They must have started up within days of meeting each other. Then two months later he had proposed to her, and she had said yes while a woman on the side. "Eight months," he repeated the words, testing their weight. "Let's get this straight you've been my sister's friend for eight months." "Don't be crude." Morgan reached for a silk robe hanging off the bedpost. "It's just physical. It doesn't mean anything." Tina stretched, catlike and unconcerned. "Don't sell yourself short, Morgan. It means something to me." Clearly unconcerned about being caught out. He had never liked Tina. But he could not tell his younger sister who her friends should be. Emma was twenty-seven after all. Grayson ran a hand through his hair. Eight months. Their entire engagement. A lie. Not just their engagement but their whole relationship. "You brought her into our bed." Not just that but their lives. Morgan slipped into the robe, tying it at the waist. "You're making too big a deal out of this. It's just sex." "In our bed." He felt like throwing up. He would burn the bed before he slept in this room again. "Why not?" Tina asked, finally reaching for her clothes scattered across the floor. "Morgan said you'd be gone until tomorrow." Grayson didn't look her way. She did not seem to care that she was standing in front of him naked. The woman had shown no shame. The casualness of their betrayal struck him like a physical blow. They'd planned this. Waited for him to leave. How many other times had this happened? Had they laughed that he was a fool. "Get out." He directed the words at Tina. She raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" "Get the out of my house." Morgan approached him with her hands raised in a placating gesture. "Really, Grayson, I just don't understand why you are so upset. Let's talk about this like adults." "Like adults?" He laughed, the sound hollow. "You've been cheating on me for eight months, and you want to talk like adults?" "It's not cheating." Morgan placed a hand on his chest. "Not really. Tina is a woman not a man." Grayson’s stepped away from her hand as his eyes widened, he realized she didn't understand cheating was cheating; it didn't matter the sex of the other person. Was she truly that stupid, or did she have the morals of an alley cat? This was not someone he wanted raising his kids let alone in his life. If he thought he was in shock before, her next words made everything even worse. "We could invite you to join us sometime. You might like it. Isn't it every man's dream to have two women at once." Chapter Three Now Grayson wasn't against others enjoy whatever sexual enjoyment they wanted. But he believed in one partner at a time. The multi partner relationship thing just wasn't for him. He had wanted what his parents had with maybe a little extra spice. He viewed his parents' marriage as the ideal, after thirty-six years of marriage with two children and they are still going strong, the fairy tale. Looking at Morgan now, he realized he wasn't going to have that with her. He didn't take his eyes off her, knowing now he had never really known the woman he'd planned to marry. "Join you?" "Don't knock it till you've tried it." Tina pulled on her pants, not bothering with underwear. "Morgan says you're quite... skilled." The thought made him physically ill. "Get out," he repeated. "Both of you." Morgan's face hardened. "This is my home too." "No." Grayson stepped back from her touch. "It's not. Not anymore. You forfeited that right once you cheated." He turned and walked out of the bedroom, down the hall to the living room. Behind him, he heard Morgan calling his name, then hushed argument with Tina. He ignored them, heading straight for the bar cart in the corner. He poured three fingers of whiskey into a crystal tumbler and downed it in one swallow. The burn in his throat was a welcome distraction from the hollow feeling in his chest. Eight months of lies…. Had it really been only eight months? With Tina it had been eight months. Had she been with anyone other than Tina? If she didn't see it as being with a woman as cheating maybe Tina was just the latest. How many had there been in their twelve months together. He wasn't going to ask just knowing there had been Tina was the end for him. He'd been planning their future while she'd been sneaking around behind his back. With a woman she'd met at his sister's party. His sister's so called best friend. He poured another drink, sipped it slower this time. He needed to deal with the trash before getting drunk. From the bedroom, he could hear them still talking, voices raised now. Grayson tuned it out, focusing instead on the amber liquid in his glass. Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Tina appeared first, fully dressed now, her dark hair smoothed back. She slung a designer bag over her shoulder and paused at the entrance to the living room. "For what it's worth, Morgan is the one who pursued me." She didn't sound apologetic, merely stating a fact. Grayson didn't look up. "Get the out of my house." "You know you really could have joined us; I wouldn't have minded I swing both ways." Grayson didn't even reply, only shuddered at the very idea. At first she looked angry at his reaction before a mask fell over her face, and she shrugged and headed toward the front door. A moment later, it clicked shut behind her. Morgan emerged from the bedroom wearing jeans and a sweater, her face flushed with anger. "Really, Grayson, you have no right to speak to her like that." "In what universe do you get to dictate how I respond to finding another person in our bed with you?" His voice remained low, controlled. The kind of control that terrified his business opponents. "Really Grayson why are you so upset. It's not like I was with another man." "Christ, Morgan." He set his glass down worried he might crush it in his hand if he didn't. "That's your defense? That it doesn't count because she's a woman?" She crossed her arms, defiant. "You're overreacting." "Overreacting." He laughed, the sound bitter even to his own ears. "You've been someone else behind my back for our entire engagement plus some, in our bed, and I'm overreacting?" "It's just a little fun and I said you could join us. What's the big deal." "What's the big deal?" He moved away from her, suddenly needing distance between them. "It's betrayal. It's lies. It's disrespect." "Look, I was going to tell you—" "When? After the wedding? On our tenth anniversary?" He gestured toward the ring on her finger. Morgan's chin lifted. "I love you, Grayson. This thing with Tina—it's just physical." "Love." The word tasted sour in his mouth. "You don't know the first thing about love. You don't do this to someone you love." "That's not fair." "Fair?" His control slipped, just enough for his voice to rise. "What's not fair is making me believe you wanted the same things I did. A life together. Children. Commitment." "I do want those things." "With someone you're cheating on?" "It's not like that with Tina. It's not—" "Stop." He held up a hand. "Just stop. I don't care how you justify it to yourself. We're done." Her expression changed, calculation replacing indignation. "You don't mean that." "I've never meant anything more in my life." "Baby, think about what you're throwing away." She approached him, hips swaying slightly the way they did when she wanted something. "We're good together. Everyone says so." "Everyone doesn't know you've been lying to me." She reached for him, one hand sliding up his chest. "I made a mistake. I'll end things with Tina. We can go on like before." Grayson caught her wrist, stopping her. He didn't want her touching him. "There's no 'we' anymore." "Don't be ridiculous." Her voice hardened. "You're angry. I get it. But you're not walking away from everything we've built." "Everything we've built?" He released her wrist. "You mean the life you've been undermining since day one? What the hell was I to you?" "Gray—" "I want you out of this house tonight." His tone left no room for argument. "Take whatever's yours. Leave your key." He would be having the locks changed but asking for the key showed her he was not backing down. Morgan's eyes widened. Her normal confidence leaving her face. She had really believed she could change his mind. What replaced it was genuine panic. "You're serious." He didn't give a . "Deadly." "Where am I supposed to go?" "That's not my problem anymore." He turned away from her, pouring another drink. "Call Tina." Silence stretched between them, taut and heavy. Then Morgan's voice, lower now, threaded with something like desperation. "I can't believe you mean this Grayson... You love me." Grayson looked at her over his shoulder. "No, I'm not in love with you Morgan… I was in love with the part you played. I have to say you are truly a fantastic actress… But it wasn't real." Ice coated his words now. "Pack your things and get out." It was the same ice that was encasing his heart. He had changed for her, in ways she wouldn't understand. But no more. From now on, Grayson was going to be himself. If he never found the right partner to fit his needs, then so be it. Emma will have kids someday, and he could make them his heirs. She opened her mouth to argue further, then seemed to think better of it. With a final glare, she stalked back to the bedroom. Grayson sank onto the couch, suddenly exhausted. The whiskey couldn't dull the sharp edges of betrayal or the hollow feeling spreading through his chest. He'd trusted her. Believed in their future together. What a joke. Morgan emerged twenty minutes later dragging a white suitcase, her makeup perfect despite the situation. She was always so concerned with appearances. "I'm leaving for now," she said, stopping by the door. "When you calm down, you'll realize what you're throwing away. Call me and we will talk." Grayson didn't respond, didn't even look at her. The door closed behind her with a decisive click. In the sudden silence, he pulled out his phone and made two calls. First to his security team to change the locks. The other to reinstate his membership to the club. The part of himself he had given up for Morgan. Chapter Four Friday, October 6th 6:45AM Honey woke the next morning with a pounding headache and a mouth that felt like she'd been chewing on cotton balls. The empty wine bottle on the coffee table explained why. She groaned, pushing herself up from the couch where she'd fallen asleep, still in yesterday's work clothes. She had drunk the whole bottle. One thing she would not let Riley turn her into is a lush. She was going to be better off without him. A big sign they shouldn't be together was when she had found out about his cheating the only thing she felt was relief not heartbreak. But what a stupid, arrogant shit he was to think she would stay with him or was it that he thought he could control her enough not to use the prenup. He would get nothing and now she had the proof she needed to make sure of that. Her laptop sat open beside her. Pulling it toward her, Honey looked to see where she had finished last night. The document she'd created now spanning several pages of meticulously dated incidents. Even drunk, she'd been thorough. It was both impressive and depressing. Sighing she saved the file and closed her laptop. Rubbing a hand over her eyes before looking around, the morning sun streamed through the living room windows, harsh and unforgiving. Honey glanced at her phone to check the time 6:45 AM. She had plenty of time before she needed to be at work, but she needed to get herself together. She stumbled to the bathroom, avoiding her reflection in the mirror as she stripped off yesterday's clothes. Under the hot spray of the shower, her mind cleared enough to form a plan for the day. Meet with the PI, gather evidence, contact a divorce lawyer, and a few other things she needed to arrange. But most importantly act normal at work. No one at Taylor Industries could know what was happening in her personal life. Especially not Grayson Taylor, who would no doubt use any sign of weakness against her in their next boardroom battle. After drying off, she pulled her red hair into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, before pulling her brown wig into place. She applied minimal makeup, just enough to hide the effects of last night's wine, then donned her glasses, ones with clear lenses that helped complete her transformation into Joy Smith, CFO. She chose a modest brown pantsuit, that was two sizes too big and had no shape whatsoever. The kind that made people underestimate her. It had always served her well. It wasn't as ugly as some of her outfits, but no one bothered to look passed the blah hair and glasses. This was all so she could make a name for herself and not ride on her father’s coattails. She was no nepo baby. As she gathered her things, her phone buzzed with a text from Riley: Coming home to shower and change. I know you must be on the way to work. See you tonight, Baby. Honey's jaw tightened. So, he'd spent the night with his mistress and now expected to waltz back in like nothing had happened. Little did he know she was working behind the scenes to kick his ass to the curb. She typed back: At work all day. Then dinner with Lauren and Maggie tonight. A lie, but she couldn't bear to see him, not yet. Not until she had her plan firmly in place. She headed to the office and started work. But was always checking the clock counting down the minutes until she saw Ben. In between working she made two phone calls, one to her doctor's office to get bloods done to make sure her cheater of a husband hadn't given her anything deadly. If he had she just might just kill him. The other call was to an electronic store, after taking her payment would deliver her order by this afternoon at the office. At 11:25, Honey sat in the waiting room of Ben Walters' office in a nondescript building in Midtown. The space was deliberately bland with its beige walls, generic artwork, comfortable but unmemorable furniture. Nothing about it suggested that behind these walls. "Mrs. Smith?" A receptionist appeared. "Mr. Walters will see you now." Honey followed her down a short hallway to a corner office where Ben Walters rose from behind his desk to greet her. In his early fifties with salt-and-pepper hair and the physique of a former cop who still kept in shape, he had the kind of face that blended into a crowd… perfect for his profession. Ben, ever the professional, didn't say anything about her getup. "Honey, it's been a while," he said, gesturing to a chair. "Your father mentioned you'd gotten married." "I did. Three years ago." Honey sat, placing her purse on her lap. "And that marriage is the reason I need to speak with you today." Ben nodded, settling back in his chair. "I assumed as much. Personal matters usually involve marriages… the beginning or the end of them." Honey unzipped her purse and removed the plastic bag containing the pink thong. She placed it on his desk. "I found this in my couch cushions last night. It's not mine." Ben didn't blink. He'd likely seen far worse in his line of work. "Your husband is?" "Riley Smith. He's a corporate attorney at Matthews & Booth." She handed over a printed sheet with Riley's information, the addresses of his office and the gym he frequented. "I need irrefutable evidence of his infidelity. Photos, video if possible. Enough to uphold the infidelity clause in our prenuptial agreement." Ben studied the information. "Any idea who he might be involved with?" "I suspect our housekeeper, Brittany Davis. Nineteen years old. Works Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from nine to three." Honey removed another sheet from her purse. "Her information is here, along with a list of nights Riley claimed to be working late or staying at his friend’s apartment, his details are also on the sheet." Ben's eyebrows rose slightly at her thoroughness. "You've done half my job already." "I like to be prepared for anything." "So, I see." He leaned forward. "What's your timeline on this?" Honey thought for a moment. "I need to secure my financial position before making any moves. The evidence first, then I'll consult with a divorce attorney. I have hidden cameras with motion sensors getting delivered to my office this afternoon. I can set them up myself." "I won't even insult you by discussing money," Ben said. "Given the nature of the case, I'd estimate two weeks max of surveillance before we have what you need. If he is careful, it could take longer." "That's acceptable." Honey nodded. "I'd like daily reports. I will also, in turn, send you anything I know." Honey didn't think it would take that long. Riley was cocky and thought he had her under control. "Of course." Ben scribbled some notes. "One more thing… do you want to know details beyond what's necessary for the prenup? Some clients prefer to know everything, others just want the basics." The question caught her off guard. Did she want to know if Riley whispered the same words to this girl that he'd once said to her when they were dating and first married? Honey didn't think it would upset her just dent her pride a little that she had been foolish to trust him. "Just what's necessary for legal purposes," she decided. "I don't need the details of everything." Ben nodded, understanding in his eyes. "I'll get started today." "Send me an invoice and I'll wire a retainer this afternoon." Honey stood, extending her hand. "Thank you for your discretion." "Always." He shook her hand firmly. "I'm sorry you're going through this, Mrs. Smith." "It will be Ms Johnson soon and don't be," Honey said, surprised to find she meant it. "This marriage has been over for a long time. I just needed a reason to admit it to myself. Can I ask you not to tell my father? I will when it's time." Back in her car, Honey checked her watch. She had time to grab lunch before heading to the office. Her phone buzzed with an email notification. Grayson Taylor, subject line: URGENT: Boston Deal Revisions. She sighed, opening the message. Smith, Boston presentation needs to be redone. New parameters attached. Need completed slides by 4 PM today for my second meeting with them at 4:30 PM. GT No please, no thank you. Just demands, as usual. What made it worse was that she'd spent all of yesterday preparing those slides to his exact specifications. "Goddamnit, Taylor," she muttered, starting her car. Eating would have to wait. Again. She would just grab a snack from the break room at the office. Chapter Five By the time Honey reached her office at Taylor Industries, her professional mask was firmly in place. Joy Smith, plain, reliable, and utterly unmemorable, nodded at the security guard and took the elevator to the executive floor. Her assistant, Marjorie, greeted her with a concerned look. "Mr. Taylor's been asking for you. Three times in the last hour." "I had a doctor's appointment," Honey lied smoothly. She did have one after work this afternoon, so not lying really. "The Boston presentation, I know he ended up emailing me." "He's made significant changes to the proposal. The team's waiting in the conference room for a video meeting with him to go over it." Honey nodded, striding toward her office to drop off her things. "Tell them I'll be there in a few minutes." Her office was a reflection of Joy Smith… practical, organized, devoid of personal touches save for a single framed photo of her father on a fishing trip, sunglasses and hat hiding his face. But no photos of Riley. She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. This was her domain. Here, she was in control, unlike the shambles of her personal life right now. When she entered the conference room, six pairs of eyes turned to her. On the wall behind the head of the table was Grayson Taylor on the big screen TV, dressed in a charcoal suit, his expression impatient. "Nice of you to join us, Smith," he drawled. "We've only been waiting forty minutes." He seemed cranky but Honey didn't take the bait. "I had a medical appointment, Mr. Taylor. One that was scheduled weeks ago. We are all allowed lunch breaks as you are well aware. It's the law." "More important than the Boston deal?" "My health?" She met his gaze coolly. "Yes, actually. Had I had more notice I would have been here." Something flashed in his eyes… surprise, perhaps, that she'd pushed back on something not directly connected to work. Good. Let him be surprised. Today was a day for changes. She was no longer taking shit from anyone including him. "Well, now that you've graced us with your presence," he gestured to the room he could see on his screen, "we need to revise the entire proposal. They now want a more aggressive growth strategy and are asking for more money." Honey took her seat, opening her tablet. "The strategy they presented was already at the upper limit of what their current infrastructure can support." She could see what the Nortons were doing. They wanted the highest possible payout for their business. Even though she had proved it wasn't worth the asking price. "They've secured additional financing. They want to accelerate the timeline." "By how much?" They wanted more money but had increased the liability by getting finance. It was a CFO’s worst nightmare. "Fifty percent." Honey couldn't hide her shock. "That's not acceleration, Mr. Taylor. That's recklessness." The room went silent. No one contradicted Grayson Taylor, especially not in front of others. His jaw tightened. "The Nortons disagree, as do I." "Then, with all due respect, both you and the Nortons need a reality check." She pulled up the original projections on her tablet. "These numbers don't lie. A fifty percent acceleration without corresponding infrastructure investments would collapse their supply chain by Q3." Grayson leaned forward, his voice dangerously low. "Are you calling me reckless, Smith?" "I'm calling the proposal reckless," she corrected. "My job is to tell you when the numbers don't add up, not to rubber-stamp bad decisions to make you happy. I'm no yes man… or woman." The tension in the room was so thick that Grayson wasn't even here. The other executives shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact with her. cowards. For a long moment, Grayson didn't say anything, from his expression Honey thought he was about to blow. Then, unexpectedly, his lips curved into something almost resembling a smile. "Show me," he said. Honey blinked. "I'm sorry?" "Show me why it won't work. Convince me. Talk me through it." She hesitated only a moment before sharing her screen to everyone in the room and Grayson remotely. For the next twenty minutes, she walked through the supply chain vulnerabilities, the cash flow implications, the market risks. She didn't hold back, didn't soften her assessment to spare his ego. He was wrong**,** and she was happy to show him. When she finished, Grayson was watching her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. Not anger, as she'd expected, but something else entirely. "Everyone out," he said suddenly. "Except Smith." The room cleared quickly, no one wanting to witness whatever was coming next. When the door closed behind the last person, Honey braced herself for the explosion. Was he going to fire her? But the explosion didn't come, instead, she watched the TV screen as Grayson leaned back in his chair, studying her. "You've never spoken to me like that before. I mean, we've disagreed in meetings before. I know. But that was almost targeted." Honey met his gaze steadily. "You've never proposed something this financially unsound before. I mean you take risks and I haven't always agreed but this could potentially be dangerous to the company." "And if I override your objections?" "Then I'll document my concerns in writing, as is my fiduciary duty to the shareholders." She gathered her tablet, preparing to leave. "Smith, we are still buying this company." "You're still going to buy them? Are you insane?" She realised her voice was raised. The man may be gorgeous, but he had a god complex. Grayson lifted an eyebrow before nodding. "Yes, I'm still going to put in an offer. But with the information you have given me, the offer will be reduced by 20%." Honey stared at him, disbelief warring with reluctant admiration. "Why employ me if you’re going to do whatever the hell you like anyway?" Heat rose in her cheeks. Grayson's expression remained maddeningly neutral. "To keep me honest," Grayson finally replied, his voice measured. "To force me to justify my decisions, especially when I'm about to do something... unconventional." Honey stared at him, trying to determine if he was mocking her. The man was infuriating. One moment he seemed to value her expertise, the next he was steamrolling over her objections. "So, you want me to tell you when you're making a mistake, but you'll do it anyway?" "I want you to give me all the information. Then I make the final call." His eyes narrowed slightly. "That's how this works, Smith. I take the risks; you provide the guardrails." "Those aren't guardrails. They're warnings of a cliff you seem determined to drive off." A short, unexpected laugh escaped him. "God, he was… infuriating." "It's an accurate one." Honey stood her ground, clutching her tablet to her chest like a shield. "This acquisition at the price they're asking is financial suicide, even with the twenty percent reduction." "Perhaps. But there's something about the Nortons' operation you're missing." Grayson tapped something on his keyboard, and a new document appeared in her inbox. "Their R&D department has developed a proprietary manufacturing process that will cut production costs by thirty-five percent once implemented allowing us to put more money into the supply chain." Honey quickly scanned the document, her financial mind automatically recalculating the projections. "This wasn't in the original information given to me." "Because they don't know what they have. Their departments don't seem to have great communication." Grayson's eyes gleamed with the predatory satisfaction she'd seen whenever he outmaneuvered a competitor. "Their technical team was telling me during a factory tour this morning." "Why wasn't this information given to us during the meeting?" "Because I don't want the rest of the team to know just yet. Leaks happen." Grudgingly, Honey had to admit this changed the equation. "Even so, the timeline—" "Will be adjusted based on your analysis. Eighteen to twenty months instead of twelve." He folded his hands on the desk. "You've done your job, Smith. You've forced me to justify my decision with actual data. That's why I employ you." She felt oddly deflated. He had been ten steps ahead of her the entire time. "I still wish you had shared this information from the beginning." "And missed watching you tear apart my proposal with that surgical precision of yours? Where's the fun in that?" The comment caught her off guard. Was Grayson Taylor actually... enjoying their confrontation? God, he was… infuriating. "I'm glad my professional dismemberment of your business strategy provides entertainment, Mr. Taylor." She couldn't keep the edge from her voice. "Next time, perhaps save us both some time and just present all the relevant facts upfront. You could have sent the files to my email and told me you didn't want everyone to know." "Where's the fun in that?" His eyes flickered with something that might have been respect. "Have the revised presentation on my desk by four. And Smith?" "Yes?" "Good work today." He cut the connection before she could respond. Honey stood there, staring at the blank screen. Had Grayson Taylor just complimented her? The same man who'd been belittling her conservative financial approach for eighteen months? She shook her head, gathering her things. She didn't have time to analyze her boss's strange behavior, not with the presentation deadline looming. She would still add her views in the presentation so if this goes south the stockholders will know she was against it. Chapter Six By the time Honey finished the Boston presentation, it was just before four. She'd crafted a masterpiece of financial analysis that highlighted both the risks and potential benefits of the acquisition, excluding the information Grayson had uncovered. She sent it to him with minutes to spare before his deadline, but received no response, not even his customary terse "Received." Her head throbbed from the remnants of last night's wine and hours of staring at a screen. The notification of her doctor's appointment flashed on her phone. Perfect timing. She needed to get those tests done, then she had plans to meet her friends for dinner. Plans she had made after leaving the meeting with Grayson. Maybe a girls' night was exactly what she needed after the last twenty-four hours she'd had. She gathered her things, making sure to include the package that had been delivered… small, discreet cameras that would help document Riley's infidelity, she hoped. As she headed out, Marjorie looked up from her desk. "Leaving already, Mrs. Smith? It's only four-thirty." "Headache," Honey replied, smoothing down her oversized blazer. "I'll finish anything left undone at home over the weekend." "What if Mr. Taylor calls." "He has my cell if it's urgent." Honey paused, then added, "But I'm sure it won't be." As she walked toward the elevator, her phone buzzed with a message. She expected it to be Grayson with some last-minute demand but instead saw it was from her friend Lauren. So, looking forward to tonight. Maggie confirmed—7:30 at Nonna's? Honey smiled. Lauren Gardener and Maggie Chase had been her roommates in college, and despite their different career paths, Lauren a rising actress and Maggie a dedicated surgeon… they'd remained close. They were also the only people besides her father and Riley who knew the real Honey Johnson, not the carefully constructed Joy Smith. She didn't see her friends as much as she would have liked. Riley had always made a big deal out of her spending time with them. Absolutely. Need it more than you know. See you there. After her doctor's appointment, where the doctor had expedited her tests with a promise to call with results tomorrow afternoon, Honey finally headed home. She needed to shed her Joy persona before meeting her friends. The apartment was still empty, just as she'd expected. Riley had texted around 3 pm to say he would be working late again. She had scoffed as she read it. Working late… right. More likely he was with the teenage housekeeper again. Honey knew the girl was nineteen and legal, but it just felt wrong. Riley was 35 and married. If Brittany hadn't been a teenager, Honey may have felt a little better about it. In their bedroom, Honey removed her wig first, sighing with relief as she placed it on its stand. Next came the glasses, then the frumpy clothes. She stood before her closet, considering what to wear. For so long, she'd defaulted to whatever Riley preferred when she was playing the part of his wife, modest, conservative outfits that wouldn't attract attention. Tonight, she didn't care what Riley would think. He wasn't invited and she didn't want to wear what he would like. She pulled out a little black dress she hadn't worn in years, one that hugged her curves and showed just enough leg and cleavage to be sexy without crossing into inappropriate. She paired it with strappy heels that added four inches to her height of five foot five. Another thing Riley didn't like because it made her closer to his height of five foot ten. In the bathroom after taking a quick shower not getting her hair wet, she let her natural red hair cascade around her shoulders, brushing it until it gleamed. Her makeup highlighted her green eyes, defined her cheekbones, and added a touch of red to her lips that matched her hair. The woman who looked back at her from the mirror was a stranger, at least she'd been a stranger for the past few years, Riley didn't like her wearing makeup. Honey smiled at her reflection. She didn't care what Riley liked anymore. Before leaving, she took a few minutes to place the tiny cameras in strategic locations around the apartment, one in the living room with a view of the couch where she'd found the thong, one in the kitchen, another in the hallway with a view of the front door, and one pointing toward their bedroom, with another covering the spare bedroom. Before making sure all cameras linked to the app on her phone. All were motion-activated and would send alerts to her phone. The batteries should last a week. Satisfied with her preparations, Honey grabbed her purse and headed out. On the way to the restaurant, she sent a quick text to Ben to let him know about cameras. Honey: Set up camera surveillance tonight. Will keep you updated. She hadn't told her friends about Riley yet. She wanted to wait until she had a drink in hand. Nonna's was crowded when she arrived, the upscale Italian restaurant buzzing with Friday night energy. She spotted Lauren and Maggie at a corner table, both already nursing cocktails. She ordered a drink from the passing waiter, letting him know what table to bring it to. Lauren saw her first. She stood up, waving enthusiastically. "Holy shit, she emerges!" Lauren exclaimed as Honey approached. "The real Honey Johnson graces us with her presence!" Maggie, more reserved but equally pleased, stood to embrace her. "You look stunning. What's the occasion?" Honey slid into her seat. "I'm getting divorced." Both women froze, martini glasses halfway to their lips. "I'm sorry, what?" Lauren leaned forward, lowering her voice. "You're divorcing Riley?" "Found another woman's underwear in my couch last night." Honey accepted the gin and tonic the waiter brought, taking a generous sip. "Found a hot pink thong in our living room. Extra small, definitely not mine." She was small but not that small. "That motherfucker," Maggie hissed, her medical professionalism momentarily abandoned. "I knew something was off with him. God, men are dogs." Lauren shook her head. "Are you okay? I mean, obviously you're not okay, but... how are you handling it anyway?" "Surprisingly well," Honey admitted. "I think I have suspected for a while. Finding the evidence was almost... relieving. I've already hired a PI, had my blood tested just in case, and set up cameras in the apartment. He will not get a penny out of me." "Wow… Cameras?" Lauren's eyes widened. "I need evidence for the prenup. If he's caught cheating, he gets nothing." When her mother had died twelve years ago everything had been left to Honey. Her father had set everything up in a trust. Which she had access to on her 25th birthday two months ago. She didn't need the money, so she had just let the investors manage the lot. It included shares, gold and property. She knew it put her on the Forbes List - The richest people in the world. It was another reason for her Joy disguise. Maggie raised her glass. "To taking out the trash. And making him pay for it by getting none of your money." They clinked glasses, and for the first time today, Honey felt the tension in her shoulders ease slightly. She had a plan, she had support, and she had the beginnings of freedom from Riley. They placed their food orders with the waiter. "So, the PI, the cameras... you're not confronting him?" Lauren asked. "Not yet. I need undeniable proof first." Honey sipped her drink. "I'm sorry I haven't told you any of this but… he's been gaslighting me for years. Making me think I'm the problem. I'm paranoid, I'm too focused on working, not sexy enough, too cold in bed. If I confront him now, he'll just deny everything, and he is so charming when he wants to be he would have any judge believing him not me. I need photo or video evidence." "Bastard," Maggie muttered. "I always thought you were too good for him." "You both told me that before I married him," Honey acknowledged. "I should have listened. I'm sorry now I didn't." "Hey, no self-recrimination," Lauren squeezed her hand. "We've all made relationship mistakes. The important thing is you're fixing it now." There was a shadow that fell over Lauren's face but before Honey could ask her about it, the waiter returned to take their dinner orders, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics… Lauren's latest audition, Maggie's new position at the hospital. It felt good to laugh, to be herself, to let her guard down completely. As their entrées arrived, Honey realized how much she'd missed this. "So," Lauren said, twirling pasta around her fork, "now that you're getting divorced, are you going to drop the whole Joy Smith act at work too?" Honey nearly choked on her wine. "God, no. It was never there for any other reason than keeping an eye on the business I own 10% of and stepping away from being known as Gage Johnson's daughter. I loved numbers and I love being a CFO. Joy is not connected to Riley at all. Could you imagine Grayson finding out." "The infamous Grayson Taylor," Maggie mused. "The way you talk about him at times, he sounds like a corporate supervillain." "He's..." Honey paused, considering. After today's interaction, she wasn't sure how to characterize him anymore. "Well, it feels like it sometimes. He is brilliant but arrogant. Today he actually complimented my work, which was new." "Maybe he's not as bad as you—" Lauren stopped mid-sentence, her eyes fixed on something over Honey's shoulder. "Holy shit." "What?" Honey turned to follow her gaze. "Don't look!" Lauren hissed, but it was too late. Near the entrance, being led to a table by the maître d', was Grayson Taylor himself. And he wasn't alone. A tall, elegantly beautiful blonde woman walked beside him, laughing at something he'd said as she clung to his arm. "That's Grayson Taylor?" Maggie whispered, impressed. "That man is sex on legs." "And that's definitely not Morgan Fairchild with him," Lauren added. "Everyone knows he's engaged to her. She tells everyone she meets. He is a real catch for her." Both Lauren and Morgan were actresses. Lauren had never worked with Morgan but they both went to some of the same parties and auditions. Honey stared, unable to look away. Grayson with a woman that wasn't his fiancé. Maybe it was innocent. Honey felt like snorting. She had zero trust left in men right now. "I need another drink," Honey muttered, signaling the waiter again.