Chapter 1

The media called it the proposal of the century.

$9.99 million.

Liam Sterling had spent $9.99 million to put my name, Chloe Miller, on every billboard in Times Square.

"Chloe, marry me."

The whole world saw it. The whole world envied me.

For ten years, I had stood by his side, the perfect fiancée to the heir of the Sterling empire. That proposal was supposed to be the grand finale, the beginning of our forever.

Then he vanished.

For thirty days, there was nothing. No calls, no texts. Just a cold, empty penthouse and the deafening silence from the man who had promised me the world.

The silence was only broken by the tabloids.

Paparazzi photos of Liam. In Paris, then Rome, then Tokyo. He wasn't alone. He was with her.

Sarah Jenkins.

His first love, his "white moonlight," the one who got away.

The stories they spun were tragic and romantic. Sarah was terminally ill. Liam, out of the goodness of his heart, was taking his dying ex-girlfriend on one last world tour to fulfill her final wishes.

He became a saint. I became a footnote.

Today, they were coming home.

I stood at the private jet terminal, the air cold and sterile. I didn't come here to cry or to demand an explanation. I came here to end it.

The doors slid open, and they walked out.

Liam looked tan and relaxed, wearing a casual but expensive linen shirt. He stopped short when he saw me, a flash of annoyance crossing his handsome face before he masked it.

And Sarah... she clung to his arm, her face pale and her body frail. She leaned into him, a perfect picture of a damsel in distress.

"Chloe," Liam said, his voice tight. "What are you doing here?"

I ignored him. My eyes were fixed on the woman hiding behind him.

"We're over, Liam," I said. My voice was calm, much calmer than I felt.

Liam frowned, his grip on Sarah's arm tightening. "What are you talking about? Don't make a scene."

It was Sarah who spoke next, her voice a soft, weak whisper.

"Chloe... please don't be mad at Liam."

She peeked out from behind his shoulder, her eyes wide and watery.

"It's all my fault. I begged him. I just... I just wanted to see the world one last time before I go."

Her performance was flawless. She was the victim. He was the noble protector. And I was the cruel, jealous woman standing in the way of a dying girl's happiness.

Liam' s expression softened as he looked down at her. He then turned back to me, his face hard as stone.

"See? She's not well. You coming here and doing this is the last thing she needs."

He took a step forward, lowering his voice to a menacing hiss.

"Go home, Chloe. We'll talk later. Don't you dare upset her."

He reached for my arm, a gesture of command he'd used a thousand times. I pulled back before he could touch me.

I let out a small, quiet laugh.

My gaze traveled over Sarah, from her limited-edition designer handbag to her perfectly manicured nails to the healthy glow on her supposedly sick face.

"Upset her?" I asked, my voice dripping with a sweetness that was pure acid.

"She just finished a month-long, five-star tour of the world. She looks healthier than I do."

I smiled directly at Sarah, a sharp, unforgiving smile.

"A terminal illness is a terrible thing. But you, my dear, look miraculously cured."