Chapter Two

When I first got here, I was so desperate I wanted to strangle the System.

Because this was the most textbook tearjerker there ever was.

The hero and heroine got together in college. They dated six years and had been married four. Together they'd fought their way up from a basement apartment in Brooklyn to a penthouse in Manhattan. But the moment the hero's childhood sweetheart showed up, all of it fell apart.

For his sweetheart, the hero lowered his standards one step at a time and let her frame the heroine over and over. In the end, the heroine developed severe depression and jumped from the penthouse they'd designed together.

Only after the heroine died did the hero regret it.

That kind of hero? Just plain trash.

Say he loved the heroine—but he was always halfhearted, counting on her devotion and taking his sweetheart's side every time. Say he didn't love her—but after she died he fell apart completely and turned around and tortured his sweetheart until she was barely human, like he wanted to bury her alongside the heroine.

The whole theme: never appreciate what you've got, and then fall apart with regret once it's gone.

And readers ate it up.

The night I finished the book back in my own world, I was so mad I couldn't sleep. Not mad at the hero. Mad at the author.

A woman who built a company from nothing with her husband, who personally kept the books for ten years—why was crying all she got to do?

Now I was that woman. Blair Whitman, co-founder and CFO of the Sterling-Whitman Group.

Still, in books like this, the scumbag's love for the heroine is real. So if I took everything he'd do to me down the line and did it to him first, that would really break him.

I mean, why should I have to torture myself to fill up the heartbreak meter? Something that sends my own blood pressure through the roof? Not a chance.

Treat myself gently. Run everyone else over like a maniac.

The scumbag's playbook? I'm running it first!

System: [Damn.]

Me: [Save it. Where's the heartbreak meter at?]

System: [10%. When you took Lucas's side just now, it really hurt him.]

I grinned. [That's nothing. There's plenty more pain where that came from.]

What the System didn't know was that I'd been doing something else since my very first night here.

After Nathan went to sleep, I'd go into the study, log into the company's financial system with my own credentials, and copy the books from the past few years, one entry at a time.

In the original book, Nathan was capable of keeping the heroine locked up at home. His business couldn't possibly be clean either.

And the heroine had seen those books back then. She just loved him too much to ever think of using them.

I wasn't her.

…

What makes a scumbag a scumbag is that he doesn't think crossing the line is a problem at all.

Without my emerald bracelet, Nathan brought out the pigeon's-blood ruby necklace he'd won at Christie's, along with the matching earrings and ring.

Sienna—a minor actress who'd gotten her start with dance videos—wore the whole set down the red carpet, soaked up every camera on the line, and went viral that same night.

After the gala, Nathan went to pick her up himself. And, unfortunately, got caught by the paparazzi.

Instantly the rumors were everywhere—the little actress and the Wall Street wunderkind—and Sienna's follower count jumped again.

In the original, Nathan brushed it off. Said it was a misunderstanding.

The heroine was so upset she didn't sleep all night.

I assume he'd planned to give me the same explanation.

Too bad he couldn't find me.

Because while he was picking up Sienna, I was sitting in the front row at Carnegie Hall.

Lucas was a pianist. He'd graduated from the conservatory in Vienna and played recital after recital all over Europe.

In terms of fame, he was way out of Sienna's league.

That day at the airport, the first thing I said to him wasn't Welcome home. It was I want to talk business.

He heard my terms and asked only one question. "That lot in the Bronx—is it big enough for a music school?"

I said it was. He smiled and shook my hand.

After the recital, he and I had dinner at a candlelit couples' restaurant in the West Village, and were "accidentally" photographed by one of his fans.

Because of the angle, the photo of us leaning close to talk looked exactly like a kiss.

The moment it was posted, it hit Page Six, and the buzz completely buried Sienna's fresh scandal.

Lucas didn't issue any clarification. Neither had Sienna.

For a while, it was quite the show.

When I got home, a little tipsy, Nathan was sitting on the couch. The ashtray in front of him was already a third full.

I frowned and waved away the smoke. "It's late. What are you still doing in the living room?"

Thunk. He tossed his phone onto the coffee table.

On the screen was the photo of me and Lucas "kissing."

"Aren't you going to explain?"

I set my bag down, unbothered. "It was dinner. Normal socializing."

"Dinner involves kissing now?" Nathan shot to his feet. "Blair, do you think I'm an idiot?"

The veins at his temple were standing out, and the corners of his eyes were red. He was genuinely furious.

I looked confused. "That's just the camera angle. We were eating dinner. The media whipped all this up. Why are you taking it so seriously? Can you not be so sensitive?"

Nathan's eyes went wide. "Sensitive? My wife is on Page Six kissing another man, and I'm the sensitive one?!"

"Well, yeah. Isn't it just like the rumors about you and Sienna? People reading too much into things?"

At the mention of his little sweetheart, he stopped short. His face stiffened.

Inside, I was gloating.

Why is it so satisfying to watch trash get a taste of its own medicine?

I softened my voice. "You know Lucas just got back. We've known each other forever. Of course I went to support him. Getting photographed at dinner and having it blow up like this—it really was an accident. Don't get the wrong idea."

Nathan's lips were pressed into a hard line. His eyes were red as he looked at me, and he couldn't get a word out.

I walked over and, swallowing my disgust, hugged him.

"Okay, stop it. Your birthday is in two days, and I've got your party all planned. I even got you a present. You're going to love it."

Gotta keep the relationship with the scumbag alive.

Otherwise the torture later won't hit as hard.

Nathan stared at me for a long time before checking one more time. "You and Lucas—there's really nothing going on?"

I held up three fingers. "Completely innocent. I swear."

After a long silence, Nathan let out a heavy breath. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

He got up unsteadily, and his back looked so lonely as he walked into the bedroom.

I opened my System panel.

Heartbreak meter: 20%.

Nice!