Chapter 1

My husband, Darius Madden, and I were the tech world's perfect couple. He was the charismatic CEO of the empire we built together, and I was the reclusive genius, the unseen force behind our success. Our love story was a PR masterpiece everyone adored.

Then I discovered the truth was a far uglier thing. He wasn't just having an affair with a model and influencer with millions of followers named Kaylee.

The perfect partnership was a lie. While he held my hand on a Ferris wheel, he was simultaneously on his other phone, scrolling through Kaylee's latest Facebook post. I saw him authorize a massive public donation in her name, then post a comment for thousands to see: "Of course I love Kaylee more."

The final blow came as a text from an unknown number. It was a photo of a sonogram report. Kaylee was pregnant with his child.

A vow I made to him years ago, one he had laughed off, echoed in my mind like a prophecy.

"I will never tolerate betrayal. If you ever cheat on me, I will disappear from your life forever. You will never find me."

So I made a call.

I activated a protocol to permanently erase my identity, to become a ghost.

For our anniversary, I left him a beautifully wrapped gift box. Inside were the signed divorce papers.

This time, I was keeping my promise.

Chapter 1

"Are you sure you want to proceed, Ms. Scott? Once this process begins, it is irreversible. Your digital and physical identity will be permanently erased. To the world, Joana Scott will cease to exist."

The voice on the other end of the secure line was calm, professional, and devoid of emotion. It was a service for ghosts, for people who wanted to become ghosts.

Joana Scott stood in the sterile white living room of her penthouse, looking out over the glittering city below. Her reflection stared back from the floor-to-ceiling glass-a woman with sharp, intelligent eyes, a face that had graced magazine covers, but a soul that felt hollowed out.

"Yes," she said, her voice a low, steady whisper. "I'm sure. Erase everything."

"Confirmation received. The protocol will initiate in twenty-one days. We will notify you upon completion. All outstanding payments have been processed. We wish you well in your new life, whoever you choose to be."

The line went dead.

Joana didn't move. She simply stood there as the last rays of sunset painted the sky in shades of orange and purple. Then, with a chillingly methodical calmness, she took out her laptop. She booked a one-way flight to a small, forgotten coastal town on the other side of the world, a place where no one knew her name.

A television mounted on the wall flickered to life, replaying the afternoon's biggest news story. It was a press conference for Madden Innovations, the tech empire she had built from the ground up alongside her husband, Darius Madden.

On the screen, Darius stood at a podium, a charismatic visionary in a perfectly tailored suit. He held up a piece of jewelry, a necklace crafted from a rare, iridescent metal and centered with a diamond that seemed to capture the light of a thousand stars. It was a masterpiece of technology and artistry, a fusion of elements she herself had conceptualized.

"This," Darius announced, his voice resonating with practiced sincerity, "is the pinnacle of our new luxury tech line. We call it 'The Joana'."

The crowd of reporters erupted in a frenzy of flashing cameras and shouted questions. The necklace became an instant sensation, trending worldwide within minutes. The narrative was irresistible.

The public adored the story of Joana Scott and Darius Madden. It was the tech world's ultimate fairy tale. He was the brilliant, self-made CEO, the face of the company. She was the reclusive architectural genius, the heart and moral compass, the unseen force who preferred the quiet of her work to the glare of the spotlight. Their love story was legendary, a carefully constructed PR masterpiece that everyone believed.

The news report cut to a series of interviews with people on the street.

"Darius Madden? He's the perfect husband!" a young woman gushed. "Did you hear he planted an entire garden of white roses at their villa just because Joana mentioned she liked them once?"

The reporter moved on.

"I heard he donated a kidney to save her life when they were younger!" a college student exclaimed, his eyes wide with admiration. "That's real love."

Everyone interviewed had a story, a snippet of the grand romantic narrative. The public consumed these tales of devotion, never questioning their authenticity.

Joana watched the screen, a bitter, self-mocking smile touching her lips. The truth was a far uglier thing. She had been an orphan, a woman who craved stability and loyalty above all else. Her stunning beauty had attracted countless suitors, but her parents' messy divorce had left her deeply cynical about love. She had rejected them all.

Then came Darius. He pursued her for three relentless years. He wasn't just persistent; he was theatrically devoted. He learned her passions, supported her architectural dreams, and once, during a rock-climbing trip, he had genuinely risked his life to save her from a fall. That act of selfless courage had finally broken through her defenses.

Even after they were together, he continued his grand gestures. He proposed nine times, each attempt more elaborate than the last. The tenth time, on the anniversary of the day they met, she finally said yes.

But she had made him a promise, a vow that now echoed in the empty room like a prophecy. "I will be loyal to you, Darius," she had said, her voice serious and clear. "But I will never tolerate betrayal. If you ever cheat on me, I will disappear from your life forever. You will never find me."

He had laughed, pulling her into his arms, swearing on his life that he would never betray the only woman he had ever loved.

That beautiful memory, once the foundation of her world, had shattered into a million sharp pieces.

Three months ago, she had discovered the truth. It wasn't just one betrayal, but two, intertwined in the most painful way possible. Darius was having an affair with a model and influencer, a beautiful but amoral woman named Kaylee Owens.

The love, the loyalty, the perfect partnership-it was all a lie. A public facade built on her stolen ideals and his profound deceit.

Joana let out a quiet, humorless laugh. She turned off the television, the image of Darius's adoring face burning in her mind. She walked to her minimalist desk, printed the divorce papers she had prepared weeks ago, and signed her name with a firm, unwavering hand.

The irony was crushing. Her long-ago vow was now her reality. She was going to disappear. Forever.

She placed the signed documents inside an elegant gift box, the same kind Darius used for his grand presents. She wrapped it carefully in shimmering silver paper and tied it with a pristine white ribbon.

An hour later, Darius came home.

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder. "I'm sorry I'm late, my love," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against her ear. "The press conference ran long." He pressed a kiss to her temple and then presented the necklace from the event. "For you. The one and only Joana."

As he moved to fasten it around her neck, her eyes caught a faint smudge of pink lipstick on the collar of his white shirt. It wasn't her shade. Her heart, already broken, felt a fresh, sharp crack.

"It's beautiful on you," he said, stepping back to admire his work, completely oblivious to the storm raging inside her. "The most beautiful woman in the world, wearing the jewel that bears her name."

Her eyes were red-rimmed, but her voice was steady. "I have a gift for you, too, Darius." She handed him the beautifully wrapped box. "An anniversary present."

He beamed, his face lighting up with genuine delight. "You remembered." He started to tear at the ribbon.

"Wait," she said, her voice stopping him. "Don't open it now."

He looked up, confused.

"Open it in three weeks," she instructed, her gaze unwavering. "Promise me."

He hesitated for a moment, then his easy smile returned. "Alright. Three weeks it is. A surprise to look forward to." He took a small sticky note from the desk, wrote 'Do not open for 21 days!', and playfully stuck it to the box. He kissed her hand, his touch sending a jolt of ice through her veins.

Joana watched him, a silent, hollow ache in her chest.

I hope you're truly surprised then, Darius, she thought.