Chapter 1
Five Years Later
Juliette
If anyone told you it was impossible to feel miserable in a six-thousand-dollar designer gown, they were lying.
I was in the middle of what my husband liked to label as one of my “designated nights out”.
Those “designated nights out” were for one thing and one thing only: making my husband look good, which meant I most definitely had to tag along to the gala that his law firm was hosting.
I had to smile brightly and shake hands daintily and stand there looking all poised and put together in my silk red gown, because that was all a wife was meant to bring to a table when you married a man like Gordon Cavendish.
He didn’t want love and he didn’t need it.
He just wanted an obedient, demure wife who talked when told to and shut up the second said talking got to be a bit too much for his ears.
The entire night was a superficial farce. Fake smiles and equally as fake joy. All night long I had heard Gordon’s co-workers talk about their weeks away at Marbella or the new house they bought in the Hamptons or how much they had spent on their children’s boarding school fees. Kill me.
The hall was stacked with rich men in their Armani suits and their wives in their equally expensive dresses.
I couldn’t judge, though, because I was in the exact same boat.
I was one of them, one of the elite that had to put on the sleek dress so everyone knew where I came from and what I had.
I too had on a fake smile and boasted when prompted.
It was all about looking good no matter how you felt on the inside. I was part of the problem.
I shifted a little in my heels. They were tight, the straps digging into my skin.
My cheeks hurt worse than my aching feet, though.
The pain from my six-inch heels had nothing on my strained, shallow grin.
Smile and look pretty, Gordon always said.
Just smile and look pretty. That was the life of a trophy wife.
“I can see your fake smile from a mile away,” my husband muttered into my ear. “Why is it that you always try to embarrass me?”
Still beaming, I turned to Gordon and took in his gray eyes.
They were cold and empty, but he had never looked at me with anything but that look in his eyes, so I shouldn’t have expected anything else.
His thin, graying hair was swept back neatly, the lines around his mouth and the ever so distinct ones in his forehead all the more present thanks to the striking bright lights of the hall.
“Right,” I said to Gordon, smacking my lips together before stretching them into another smile. Hopefully this one seemed less fake. “Of course.”
“Why did you wear that dress?” he asked. “I thought you were going to wear the Versace one.”
“This is the Versace one.”
“No, the other Versace one.”
“I don’t think anyone cares.”
“I assure you every single person here cares about appearances. Why can’t you?”
“Am I not wearing the Versace dress?”
“Watch your mouth.”
“Your boss is coming over.”
My words were enough to make Gordon straighten up next to me, his arm suddenly around my waist as he pulled me to him.
His body didn’t feel right up against mine and I hated the fact.
I fidgeted for a millisecond as his boss got closer and closer, finally standing before us with a big, wide grin.
Parker Beaumont always seemed like nothing could damper his mood.
He always managed to put a damper on mine, though.
“Gordon! I’ve been looking for you. There’s quite a crowd tonight,” Parker said, one arm stretched out as he gave Gordon’s hand a shake. Then his brown eyes found mine. “Ah, and you’ve brought the wife. So good to see you again, Juliette. How are you liking the gala so far?”
“Um…” I let out. My eyes landed on the crowd for a moment.
The museum was often used as a space for my husband’s law firm.
They liked to host their galas and charity events and high-end parties in the Heritage Hall thanks to its spacious room and high ceilings.
The large floor to ceiling windows offered a wide view of the city, and with the sky all dark, the endless sea of Chicago’s skyscrapers were lit up below us.
It was supposed to be some beautiful, enticing night.
I was supposed to feel like a princess in my expensive dress and my immaculately curled hair and my picture perfect makeup, but all I wanted to do was escape.
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could handle feeling restrained.
Was this all I was going to get out of life?
Fancy dinners and dresses to cover up my utter misery despite the fact that I longed to be anywhere but here? Was this it?
Something was pinching at my back. No, someone was.
Gordon. Even through the material of the floor length gown, I could still feel the harsh grip of his nails digging into me.
My name was being repeated again and again, and I only realized then that I had zoned out completely.
Checking out of conversations that included men like Gordon and Parker always did that to me.
“Uh, Juliette?” Parker asked with a little laugh. “Are you alright there?”
“She’s had a long day,” Gordon answered for me. “She was at the salon for a few hours.”
“Ah, such hard work.” Parker nodded, giving Gordon a wink. “You must be so tired, Juliette. Stacey was at the salon too. I’m sure she’ll need a nap soon…”
Parker’s wife, Stacey, was a sweetheart. She was a former model and was all luscious golden locks and electric green eyes, her statuesque form easy enough to spot in any crowd.
I could see her from where I was standing, her smile bright as she talked to some other guests.
She too had to play the role of the perfect wife.
Of course, our husbands always found a way to belittle us when we took part in the tasks that required us to look as exceptional as they always expected.
I hadn’t even wanted to go to the salon.
I didn’t even want to go to the boring, obnoxious gala.
“You’re both so funny,” I said, forcing out a laugh.
“Seriously, though.” Parker nodded, running a hand over his gray, combed back locks. “Are you having fun?”
I felt another pinch. That was a sign. Fake it.
Look and sound good. Act like you care. Gordon’s words—the ones he let out every night before we left for some stupid event, including tonight—went off in my head.
“The night’s been so wonderful,” I said as brightly as I could.
“You know I love these galas. It’s always such a beautiful evening.
The seared foie gras canapés were delicious. ”
“I’m glad you’re having fun,” Parker said. “It’s a shame you two weren’t able to join me and Stacey in the Maldives. It was so beautiful there. Just a week in the sun. Why did you two opt out?”
He was looking at me when he asked that, but I knew better than to answer a question Gordon didn’t want me getting close to.
“We were a little busy with some renovations at home,” Gordon said. “We had to stay back while the builders worked on the new indoor swimming pool.”
The indoor swimming pool was very much real, but that was not the reason we missed out on the Maldives. The biggest reason was that I wasn’t allowed to go. Traveling? Getting on a plane? That was unheard of. I was twenty-three and hadn’t ever left the state.
“Oh, you must let me take a look at it.” Parker raised his eyebrows. “We had a bigger one built a few years ago. So much fun. I can’t get Stacey and the little one out of it. Speaking of…” Parker’s eyes landed on me. “Stacey wants to know when our Chelsea will have a little playmate.”
Oh no. Not that question. That was the worst thing he could have asked me. I felt yet another pinch, this one so much more sharp. Gordon would answer the question for me. Good. I wasn’t touching that one.
“It’s all about good timing, isn’t it?” Gordon asked.
“I suppose so, but Chelsea just sort of happened.” Parker shrugged. “And now here I am, father to a five-year-old. Who’d have thought that would ever happen?”
“Right,” Gordon said, voice all tight. “I see you invited some of your old partners. Greg is here, isn’t he? Didn’t he mess up that contract at the start of the year?”
Parker rolled his eyes, and just like that, the topic of babies and making them was thankfully no longer interesting.
“Don’t remind me about that. Thank goodness he’s an old partner, huh?
Anyway, tonight’s about celebrating the future.
About Beaumont Law. To the future, right?
” Parker held up his wine glass. “And to all that the future will bring.”
“To the future.” Gordon clinked his glass with Parker’s.
“This is a night to celebrate the whole office, but especially your husband, Juliette.” He gestured his wine glass towards me. “He works so hard, and the last few months have been especially stressful.”
Gordon cleared his throat. “I think it’s best we put that all behind us.”
Yes, please do that, otherwise he’ll take it out on me.
I knew exactly what they were talking about.
Gordon was a big-time defense lawyer and protected the guys a lot of lawyers didn’t want to look twice at.
Mafia members and drug lords who didn’t shy away from violence, actors and athletes who couldn’t take no for an answer, businessmen who had a penchant for touching money that didn’t belong to them.
Gordon was very good at making sure they either slipped under the radar, spent no time in prison at all, or got an hour or two of community service as punishment.