a temporary love

My husband, Easton, dragged me to a party for his ex-girlfriend, Kelly Holland. Our five-year marriage was a sham, a contract he'd signed to spite her after she left him. I was just the placeholder wife.

During a game of "Seven Minutes in Heaven," he chose Kelly. When they emerged from the powder room, her lipstick was smeared, and a fresh hickey stained her neck.

Later that night, Easton and Kelly stormed into our home. He accused me of stealing her multi-million dollar diamond necklace.

He didn't believe me, even when I swore I was innocent. He called the police, who conveniently found the necklace in my handbag.

He looked at me with disgust. "I never should have married you," he spat. "You're nothing but trash from the slums."

I was arrested based on the word of the woman who set me up. My five years of quiet love and devotion meant nothing. The man I had secretly fallen for saw me as nothing more than a common thief.

I spent the night in a cold holding cell. The next morning, after being bailed out, I took the SIM card from my phone, snapped it in two, and dropped it in the trash. It was over.

I would make them pay. I would burn their entire world to the ground.

Chapter 1

The divorce papers arrived on a Tuesday. The crisp white envelope sat on the marble countertop, my name, Brooke Rollins, typed in a sterile font. Next to it was another name: Easton Spencer. My husband.

For five years, that title had felt like a costume I wore. It was a sham, a placeholder marriage he' d entered into to spite his socialite ex-girlfriend, Kelly Holland, after she' d publicly dumped him.

I stood in the corner of the lavish ballroom, a flute of champagne untouched in my hand.

Then I saw them. Kelly Holland, draped in a glittering silver dress, glided toward me. Her friends, a flock of equally polished women, trailed in her wake. The air grew thick with their expensive perfume and unspoken contempt.

"Brooke, darling," Kelly' s voice was smooth as silk, but her eyes held a familiar cruelty. "I almost didn' t recognize you. You clean up surprisingly well."

I didn' t smile. I just met her gaze. "Kelly."

One of her friends laughed, a high, tinkling sound. "Still so cold. I guess you can take the girl out of the factory town, but you can' t take the factory town out of the girl."

The words were meant to sting, but I' d heard them, or versions of them, a thousand times. They were nothing.

But Kelly knew where to aim. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that was loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "I saw your mother the other day. Still limping around from that factory accident, isn't she? It' s so tragic. You' d think with all of Easton' s money, you could have at least gotten her a decent prosthetic."

A hot, white rage flooded me. My mother was my line. The one thing in this world they couldn' t touch.

My hand moved before I could think. The crack of my palm against Kelly' s cheek echoed in the sudden silence.