Chapter 1
Amara’s hand hesitated on the doorknob of her husband’s home office for a moment before she pushed it open.
What she saw stopped her heart cold.
Ethan, her husband of five years, was holding Celeste—the woman she had generously accepted into their home as Ethan’s adopted sister—in a way no brother should. Their lips were locked, their bodies pressed together, and the intimacy of the scene made Amara’s stomach churn.
“Ethan,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling with disbelief.
They froze. Celeste turned first, her perfectly manicured nails trailing down Ethan’s chest as she stepped back.
A sly smirk played on her lips, completely devoid of shame. Ethan, on the other hand, looked stricken, his face paling under the weight of being caught.
“Amara, it’s not what it looks like,” Ethan stammered, stepping toward her.
“Not what it looks like?” Amara’s voice rose, her shock giving way to fury. She pointed a shaking finger at Celeste. “You were kissing her! I saw it with my own eyes!”
Ethan glanced at Celeste, who folded her arms and leaned against the desk casually, as though this were all a game.
“She came on to me!” Ethan blurted, desperation lacing his tone.
Celeste let out a mocking laugh. “Oh, Ethan, don’t lie to your wife. She’s smarter than that… or at least I thought she was.”
“Smarter?” Amara’s voice cracked. “I welcomed you into this home, Celeste! I treated you like family, and this is how you repay me? By seducing my husband?”
Celeste’s smirk widened. “You’re so naive, Amara. Did you really think your marriage was perfect? Ethan and I… we’ve always been closer than you realized.”
“Enough!” Ethan barked, running a hand through his hair. “Celeste, leave us.”
“Why should I? She walked in on us. The least we can do is give her the truth,” Celeste said, her tone dripping with malice.
Amara felt her knees weaken, but she refused to crumble in front of them. “Get out, Celeste. Now,” she said, her voice steely despite the tears threatening to fall.
Celeste shrugged, her confidence unshaken. “Fine. Have your little domestic spat. But remember, Ethan, I’ll always be here when you’re ready to stop pretending.”
With that, she strutted past Amara, brushing her shoulder deliberately on her way out.
As the door clicked shut, Amara turned back to Ethan, her eyes blazing. “How long has this been going on?”
“Amara, I—”
“How. Long?” she interrupted, her tone cutting like glass.
Ethan sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It was just a mistake. It happened once, and I regretted it immediately. Tonight was—”
“Don’t you dare lie to me again,” Amara snapped. “I saw the way you looked at her. That wasn’t a ‘mistake.’ That was love—or lust, at the very least.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he said nothing. The silence was damning.
“You’re disgusting,” Amara whispered, her voice trembling with rage and heartbreak.
Ethan’s eyes hardened. “And you’re so perfect, aren’t you?”
Amara’s hand flew across his face before she even realized what she was doing. The sharp crack echoed in the room, leaving both of them stunned.
“You’re blaming me? For this?” she spat, tears streaming down her face. “I gave everything to this marriage, Ethan. I trusted you, loved you. And you threw it away—for her?”
“She understands me in ways you never could,” Ethan shot back, his voice cold.
Amara stepped back, clutching her chest as though his words were a physical blow. “I can’t believe I ever loved you.”
Just as she turned to leave, the door burst open, and Celeste stormed back in, her eyes blazing. “Oh, for God’s sake, stop acting like a martyr, Amara. You’re not the victim here.”
“What are you talking about?” Amara demanded, her voice shaking.
“You’re weak,” Celeste sneered. “Always trying to play the saint, always trying to be the perfect wife. It’s pathetic. No wonder Ethan got bored.”
“Get out of my house!” Amara screamed, her composure crumbling.
Celeste laughed darkly. “Your house? Sweetheart, this was never your house. It was Ethan’s. And soon, you’ll be out of the picture altogether.”
Before Amara could respond, Celeste lunged at her. Amara stumbled backward, her heel catching on the edge of the rug.
“Stop it!” Ethan shouted, stepping forward, but it was too late.
Celeste shoved Amara with enough force to send her tumbling out of the study and toward the staircase. Time seemed to slow as Amara felt herself falling, her arms flailing in a desperate attempt to grab onto something—anything.
Her body hit the stairs with a sickening thud, and she rolled down the steps, pain shooting through her with every impact. When she finally came to a stop at the bottom, her vision blurred, and a warm, wet sensation spread beneath her head.
“Amara!” Ethan’s voice rang out, but it sounded distant, like he was miles away.
Celeste’s face appeared above her, a twisted mix of triumph and feigned concern. “Oh no, she fell,” Celeste said, her tone mockingly sweet.
Amara’s lips moved, but no sound came out. Darkness crept into the edges of her vision, and she felt her strength fading. But the fire in her chest burned brighter than ever.
With her last ounce of energy, she glared at Celeste and whispered. “I’ll make you regret this.”
