Chapter 1
My husband had only seconds to decide which kidnapped woman to save first—and he chose the other one. Days later, I slipped off my wedding ring, handed him divorce papers, and disappeared from the only life I had known, leaving one of Chicago’s most powerful men sitting alone with the truth: the wife he thought would always wait for him finally stopped.
My name is Claire Bennett, and for six years I had been married to Adrian Moretti.
I had grown up around his family. My father died saving Adrian’s father during an ambush years ago, and after my mother passed away, the Morettis took me in.
Adrian had always been the one person I trusted most.
That changed on a Wednesday afternoon.
My SUV was forced off the road outside Chicago. When I woke up, my wrists were zip-tied behind a metal chair and my ankle screamed with pain.
Across from me sat Lily Monroe.
Adrian’s financial strategist.
Beautiful. Brilliant. Always around.
A laptop on the table suddenly lit up.
Adrian appeared on the screen.
A distorted voice said, “You only have time to hit one location first.”
Then Lily began gasping.
“My inhaler…”
Adrian’s face changed instantly.
I looked at him.
“My ankle is hurt.”
The countdown started.
“Ten.”
Lily coughed.
“Nine.”
“Eight.”
Then Adrian spoke.
“Send Alpha Team to Monroe’s location.”
Everything inside me went numb.
“Adrian?”
His eyes found mine.
“Claire, hold on.”
Then the screen went black.
Twenty minutes later, I heard distant gunfire.
Not near me.
He had reached Lily first.
Before Adrian’s second team arrived, my kidnappers moved me.
I was found almost four hours later unconscious in an abandoned vehicle with a broken ankle, concussion, dehydration, and fever.
Adrian didn’t come to the hospital until late the second night.
“How’s Lily?” I asked.
“She’s fine.”
“Good.”
His face tightened.
“Don’t do that.”
“I’m just glad the person you chose first survived.”
“She couldn’t breathe.”
“And I was in enemy hands.”
“I had seconds to decide.”
“And you decided.”
He stepped closer.
“I knew you were stronger.”
I laughed softly.
“So the stronger person gets left behind.”
Three days later, I checked myself out and went to my parents’ old house.
Adrian came that night.
“Come home.”
I looked at him from the doorway.
“Are you asking as my husband or ordering me as a boss?”
His jaw tightened.
“I came to bring my wife home.”
I slowly removed my wedding ring.
His eyes dropped to my hand.
“What are you doing?”
I placed the ring in his palm.
“I’m calling an attorney tomorrow.”
His face changed.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“We’re not getting divorced.”
“That isn’t your decision.”
I took one step back.
Adrian froze.
I had never backed away from him before.
“I’m doing exactly what you did,” I said.
“What?”
“Choosing myself first.”
Then I closed the door.
A week later, Adrian returned near midnight.
The house was dark.
Empty.
My suitcase was gone.
On the kitchen table, he found an envelope with his name on it.
Inside were signed divorce papers.
And one sentence.
This time, I’m not waiting for you.
Later, I heard he sat there for a long time without moving.
Adrian Moretti controlled hundreds of people.
He could find almost anyone in Chicago.
May you like
But the one woman he had always assumed would understand, forgive, and wait for him—
was gone.
