Nashville glittered beneath the night sky.
Once, I had thought the city represented everything I had lost.
Now it represented everything I had rebuilt.
Years later, people still remembered the story.
The Instagram wedding.
The pregnant mistress.
The twelve-million-dollar mansion.
The wife who sold it before her cheating husband came home.
But the public never knew the whole story.
They didn’t know about the eighteen million dollars.
The offshore accounts.
The hidden company.
The forty percent shares.
My father’s letters.
The trust.
The stolen money.
They only knew the headline.
And honestly?
I preferred it that way.
Because the most important part wasn’t that Ryan lost his mansion.
It wasn’t that Norah didn’t get the life she expected.
It wasn’t even that Ryan went to prison.
The most important part was what happened to me.
I stopped measuring my worth by whether someone chose me.
