Chapter 1Five years together, and Kyle Harris let his girl-next-door move into our apartment.
She waved a piece of paper in my face.
Said it was some Harris family tradition passed down for generations.
Kyle sat on the couch scrolling through his phone. Didn't even look up.
He said Vivian was like a sister to him.
Said I should be grateful she was willing to teach me how things work.
I stared at my engagement ring on the ground—smudged with her footprints—and I laughed.
I give them an inch, and they act like they own the whole damn place?
...
The door code was changed.
I stood outside holding a cake, punched in the wrong numbers three times.
The door swung open from inside.
Vivian stood there wearing MY silk robe, wine glass in hand.
"Oh, Jana. Finally decided to come home?"
She looked me up and down, one hip against the doorframe, blocking my way.
"Kyle's in the shower. He changed the password to my birthday so I don't have to bug him for keys anymore."
I didn't say a word. Shoved past her into the apartment.
Delivery boxes everywhere—ripped open, scattered across the carpet.
My mother's rosewood jewelry box sat dead center on the coffee table.
Crammed full of Vivian's cheap, chipped earrings.
"Who said you could touch my things?"
I slammed the cake down on the table.
BANG.
Vivian jumped. Eyes welling up real quick.
The bathroom door opened.
Kyle walked out towel-drying his hair, saw the scene, and his jaw tightened.
"Jana, what the hell's gotten into you?"
He crossed the room and pulled Vivian behind him.
"Viv just moved in. She needs space for her stuff. It's just a box."
"That's not just a box. That's MY property."
"Your property IS Kyle's property."
Vivian peeked out from behind him, voice dripping sugar and acid.
"Jana, if you're gonna marry into this family, you better learn the rules now."
She pulled a printed sheet from under the coffee table and slapped it on the glass.
Bold black letters across the top: Wife's Rules.
"Kyle's mom told me to go over this with you."
She cleared her throat, reading out loud like she was running the show.
"Number one: Kyle's got a big career. ALL housework, cooking, laundry—that's on YOU. And his dress shirts? Hand wash ONLY."
"Number two: Shut down that little studio. After the wedding, your bank card goes to me, Vivian Cross. I'll handle the finances."
"Number three: Kyle's got stomach problems. Every morning at 6 AM sharp—hot oatmeal, scrambled eggs, whole wheat toast, fresh fruit. All homemade."
"Number four—this one's important."
She lifted her chin, staring me down.
"Kyle and I go way back. When we hang out or travel, you don't ask questions. And you definitely don't throw fits."
She slid the paper toward me.
"Sign it. Then Kyle's mom will add your name to the deed."
I stared at that paper and burst out laughing.
"Add MY name? Kyle, did you forget who paid for this place?"
Kyle's face twitched.
He looked away, voice still hard.
"Enough, Jana. Viv's trying to help. She's doing what my mom asked."
"Stop throwing the down payment in my face. I'll pay you back."
"Now sign the paper and quit making this hard on Vivian."
Vivian got bolder seeing Kyle back her up.
She stepped forward and grabbed my wrist.
"Just sign it. Then go wash Kyle's underwear in the bathroom. Hand wash. Got it?"
I looked at her hand on me and felt my stomach turn.
I slapped her clean across the face!
Chapter 2
SMACK.
The sound cracked through the room.
Vivian's head whipped to the side. She grabbed her cheek and screamed.
"You HIT me?!"
"Yeah. So what?"
I grabbed the paper off the table, tore it into pieces right in front of her.
Scraps rained down on her head and shoulders.
"Who the hell do you think you are? Coming into MY place trying to boss me around?"
Kyle froze.
He wasn't expecting me—the one who'd been quiet and easygoing all this time—to actually throw a punch.
By the time he snapped out of it, Vivian was already crying into his chest.
"Kyle! She hit me! I was just trying to help your mom and she HIT me!"
Kyle's eyes filled with rage.
He shoved me hard.
I stumbled backward and slammed into the corner of the entryway cabinet.
Pain shot through my side.
"Jana! Apologize to Vivian RIGHT NOW!"
Kyle jabbed a finger at my face, veins bulging in his neck.
"You get on your knees and apologize, or we're DONE!"
"You think anyone else would put up with a controlling bitch like you?!"
I leaned against the cabinet and slowly straightened up.
The pain in my side was nothing compared to how sick I felt realizing I'd wasted five years on him.
I looked at Kyle's face—twisted with anger—and remembered.
Five years ago when his startup tanked and he was drowning in debt, I gave him everything I had. I pulled all-nighters freelancing to keep us afloat for three brutal years.
Two years ago he said he wanted to buy a place so we could get married.
Down payment was two million. I put down 1.6 million.
He said putting just his name on the deed would make the mortgage easier.
Said he'd add my name after we got married.
I believed him.
Now here he was—letting his childhood friend live in the apartment I paid for, letting her paw through my mother's things, telling me to get on my knees.
"No need to wait."
I dug the car keys out of my bag and tossed them on the floor.
"Car's in my name. Don't drive it tonight."
I pointed toward the door.
"And this apartment? Kyle, you forget? The deed's got your name, but the down payment receipt shows every dollar came from MY account."
"Loan agreement? You never signed one. That was MY premarital investment."
Kyle's face went pale.
Vivian lifted her head from his chest and shrieked.
"Jana, quit threatening us! Kyle's a project director at Sterling Group making six figures! You think he NEEDS your money?!"
"Six figures?"
I laughed coldly.
"Kyle, that twenty-million-dollar exhibition contract at Sterling—who got you in the door? You remember, right?"
Kyle's pupils shrank.
"Jana, what are you saying?"
"I'm saying the game's over."
I kicked off my heels, slipped on my flats, and pulled the door open.
"Kyle, we're done. You and her have until noon tomorrow to get out of MY apartment."
Kyle stood frozen, face gray, eyes full of disbelief.
He was so used to me going along with everything.
Thought I was just throwing a tantrum.
He shouted after me, voice shaking with rage.
"Jana, quit bluffing!"
"You walk out that door, even if you BEG me on your knees, I won't look at you TWICE!"
"GET OUT! Don't you DARE come back!"
Vivian joined in from beside him.
"Kyle, ignore her! Women like her just need to be put in their place. Three days—she'll come crawling back like a dog!"
I didn't turn around. Kept walking.
As the elevator doors closed, I pulled out my phone and called my best friend and law partner, Susan.
She picked up fast.
"Calling this late? What's up?"
"Susan, need you to do two things."
My voice was steady.
"First, file a lawsuit against Kyle. Recover the 1.6 million down payment plus interest. File for asset preservation first thing tomorrow. Freeze the property."
"Second, call Mr. Shaw at Sterling Group. Tell him I'll be at tomorrow morning's final project review. In person."
Susan paused, then laughed.
"FINALLY. Been waiting to take that freeloader down."
I took a deep breath and walked out of the building.
The night air hit my face and cleared my head.
"Tomorrow at noon, we're taking back the apartment."
Chapter 3
The next morning at 8 AM, I sat in the VIP lounge on the top floor of Sterling Group.
Susan walked in and dropped a thick folder on the coffee table.
"Court filed it. Asset freeze goes through by 10 AM."
"Once that order hits, bailiffs and the enforcement bureau will lock down the apartment and freeze every account Kyle's got."
I took a sip of coffee, bitterness spreading across my tongue.
"You cancel that supplementary black card linked to my account?"
"Killed it at midnight."
Susan dropped into the chair across from me, smirking.
"Vivian tried swiping it five times this morning. High-end baby boutique, designer bags—declined every time."
"Sales clerk stopped her at the counter. She almost threw hands right there. Kyle had to come bail her out with his own credit card."
I stared out the window at the skyline. Felt nothing.
Kyle's monthly paycheck barely covered the lease on that secondhand Mercedes he bought to show off.
For five years, every tailored suit, every luxury watch, every overpriced dinner with Vivian—all paid for by my black card.
He got so used to the life I gave him, he thought it was his own success.
A knock at the door.
Mr. Shaw, CEO of Sterling Group, walked in. All business.
"Ms. Morgan, the review committee voted unanimously for your design proposal for the New City Cultural Center."
"Having Kyle's team present today is just protocol. Formality."
He slid the scoring sheet across the table.
"If you think his team's not up to standard, we'll replace them."
I closed the file and looked up at him.
"No need. Let them present. Some performances need an audience to be truly satisfying."
At 9:30 AM, Sterling Group's main conference room.
I took my seat on the far right, nameplate in front of me: Chief Art Consultant.
The conference room doors opened.
Kyle walked in wearing a sharp suit, leading his project team.
Vivian followed behind, clutching a folder, temporary visitor badge hanging around her neck.
Her face was caked with makeup, eyes and brows radiating smugness.
The second she walked in, Vivian spotted me at the review table.
She stopped dead. A sneer curled her lips.
She leaned over and whispered something in Kyle's ear.
Kyle followed her gaze. His face darkened.
He marched up to the review table and slammed his briefcase down, glaring at me.
"Jana? What are you doing here?"
"A high-level Sterling review isn't a place for some freelance designer to crash."
Vivian clip-clopped over in her heels, arms crossed, voice dripping venom.
"Jana, Kyle threw you a bone last night and you spat in his face. Now you're here making a scene?"
"You know Kyle's about to close a TWENTY-MILLION-DOLLAR contract, right?"
"Get out NOW before you embarrass him, or I'll have security drag you out."
The Sterling executives exchanged glances. Faces darkening.
Mr. Shaw, seated at the head of the table, was about to slam his hand down.
I raised mine first. Stopped him.
I looked at the two of them like I was watching a circus act.
"Director Harris, the review starts at ten sharp."
"Save whatever you've got to say until after you finish your presentation."
Kyle snorted. Thought I was putting on a brave face because I was intimidated.
He straightened his tie and walked over to the projector.
