Chapter 1

The police report said Liam' s death was an accident. A single car, a winding road, a patch of black ice. Simple. Final. But I knew better. Liam, my Liam, the man I was going to marry, the man whose brilliant mind was about to launch our tech startup into the stratosphere, didn't die by accident. He was murdered.

And I knew who did it. His father. The great Mr. Davis, a titan of the tech industry, a man who couldn't stand the existence of an illegitimate son poised to become his rival. Liam was a threat to his legacy, a stain on his perfect family portrait. So, he erased him.

Grief was a cold, heavy thing in my chest, but beneath it, something else was taking root. A quiet, burning rage. They thought I was just the grieving girlfriend, a broken little thing. They were wrong. I was going to be the architect of their ruin.

The day after the funeral, I put on a black dress and went to a tech gala. My target was there, holding a glass of champagne, surrounded by his sycophants. Ethan Davis. Mr. Davis' s legitimate son, his golden boy, and the key to my revenge.

I walked towards him, my steps measured. His friends saw me coming. One of them, Mark Johnson, nudged Ethan.

"Hey, look. It' s your little shadow, Chloe."

Another one laughed. "Still chasing you, even after all this time. I remember back in college, she' d follow you to the library, to the gym, everywhere. Girl' s got no shame."

I let the words wash over me, my face a carefully constructed mask of hurt and vulnerability. I remembered it all. Every feigned smile, every "accidental" encounter. It was all part of Liam' s plan, a way to get close, to gather information on the father who refused to acknowledge him.

I remembered our "first meeting." I' d approached Ethan with a problem on a coding project, a problem I had already solved two weeks prior. He' d looked at me with disdain, a cold dismissal in his eyes.

"Figure it out yourself."

I remembered the countless times I' d "happened" to be where he was, offering a coffee, a word of praise, only to be ignored or brushed off. Each rejection was a small piece of a much larger strategy Liam had devised. He knew his father' s world was a fortress, and Ethan was the unguarded side gate.

Now, standing here, Ethan looked at me, his expression a mix of pity and flattered surprise. He had no idea.

I gave him a small, sad smile.

"Ethan. I... I came to get you. You've had too much to drink."

I held out a protein shake. It was his favorite brand. A detail I knew from my research, not from any genuine care.

Mark snorted. "Wow, what a lapdog. She even knows your post-booze recovery drink."

Ethan puffed out his chest, clearly pleased. "She' s loyal. It' s what I like about her."

He took the shake and let me guide him out of the crowded ballroom. In the car, his drunken boasting filled the silence. I just nodded, my hands steady on the wheel. The gentle, devoted look on my face was a lie. Inside, I was ice.

I got him back to his apartment, a place I' d meticulously studied. I put him to bed, tucking him in like a child. Once he was snoring, I closed his bedroom door.

In the living room, I pulled a small burner phone from my purse. The screen lit up with a single, unread message.

"Everything is ready."

A slow smile spread across my lips. It felt cold and foreign on my face. The game was just beginning.