They laughed when I finally stood up for myself at the banquet. I didn’t argue or make a scene. Thirty minutes later, they understood why.

For ten years of my youth, I had agreed to remain in the shadows, enduring the reputation of a useless gold digger. And it was all to save face for the man I called my husband. I stood by and watched as he ascended to the CEO’s chair, respected by thousands, living in a twenty-five-million-dollar mansion in Connecticut and driving million-dollar supercars. But on the night of Obsidian Pinnacle’s grandest corporate gala, he brazenly brought his mistress, allowed his mother to publicly humiliate me, and personally shattered my dignity just to buy a smile from the other woman.