Jennifer's POV
Someone is pounding on the door.
I wake up on the couch, still wearing yesterday's dress. My phone is dead on the floor beside me. The pounding continues.
"Jennifer! Open the door!"
It's my brother Jason. I don't want to face him. Don't want to face anyone.
But he has a key, and I hear it turning in the lock.
"Jen?" He rushes in, looking panicked. Then he sees me and stops. "Oh, thank God. I've been calling you all night. Your phone—"
"It's dead." My voice sounds like sandpaper.
Jason sits beside me. He looks exhausted. "Richard called me. He said you had some kind of breakdown at dinner. That you're not thinking clearly."
I laugh. It comes out bitter and wrong. "Of course he did."
"Jen, what's going on? People are sending me photos of him and Amanda. Is it true?"
"Seven months." I finally look at my brother. "He's been sleeping with her for seven months. And everyone knew except me."
Jason's face goes dark. "That son of—"
"He wants an open marriage." I cut him off. "That's what last night was about. He wanted my permission to keep screwing her."
"He what?"
"And when I said I wanted a divorce, he threatened me. Said he'd take everything. My inheritance. Grandma's trust fund. My shares in the company."
Jason stands up fast. "He can't do that."
"He said he's been documenting everything. That he has rights because we're married." My hands start shaking again. "Jason, what if he's right? What if I lose everything because I was stupid enough to fall in love with him?"
"You're not stupid." Jason's voice is fierce. "He's a manipulative bastard who planned this. But you're not losing anything. I promise you."
I want to believe him. But I'm so tired. So broken.
"My phone," I say quietly. "Can you plug it in? I need to see..."
"Jen, maybe you shouldn't look at—"
"Please."
He finds my charger. When my phone turns on, it explodes with notifications.
387 messages. 156 missed calls. Thousands of social media notifications.
I open Instagram first. My hands are shaking so bad I can barely hold the phone.
Amanda's latest post is from three hours ago. A photo of her and Richard having breakfast. She's wearing his shirt. They're laughing.
The caption: When you finally stop hiding and start living your truth NoRegrets, LoveWins
The comments are hundreds deep.
So happy for you both!
She's so much prettier than his wife anyway
Jennifer Morgan was always so boring, no wonder he upgraded
FINALLY! We've been waiting for you two to go public!
That last one has 847 likes.
I scroll through Amanda's profile with numb fingers. The posts go back months. Seven months, actually. Just like Richard said.
Every photo is a knife in my chest.
Richard and Amanda at the Hamptons. I was home with the flu that weekend.
Richard and Amanda at a charity gala. He told me it was a work thing, that I'd be bored.
Richard and Amanda on a yacht. He said he was on a business trip to Miami.
Every lie. Every excuse. All documented on social media for the world to see while I was home being the good wife.
"Jen." Jason's voice is tight. He's looking at his own phone. "You need to see this."
He shows me his screen. It's a news article from an hour ago.
SOCIETY WIFE JENNIFER MORGAN HUMILIATED AS HUSBAND'S AFFAIR GOES PUBLIC
Below the headline is a photo of me from last night, leaving the restaurant. I look destroyed. Broken.
The article details everything. Richard and Amanda's affair. My "public meltdown" at the restaurant. Quotes from "sources close to the couple" saying I've been "mentally unstable" and "impossible to live with" for months.
They're making me the villain.
My phone rings. It's my mother.
I don't want to answer. But if I don't, she'll just keep calling.
"Jennifer Marie Morgan." Her voice is ice. "I'm looking at the most horrific article about you and Richard. Please tell me this is a mistake."
"It's not a mistake, Mom. Richard's been cheating on me."
"Yes, well, marriages have problems. But did you have to make a scene in public? Do you know how this looks for the family?"
I almost drop the phone. "How this looks? Mom, he's been sleeping with Amanda for seven months!"
"Don't be dramatic. Men have affairs. It's what they do. You're supposed to handle it with grace, not throw tantrums in restaurants like some common—"
"I want a divorce." My voice cuts through her rant.
Silence.
Then: "Absolutely not."
"Excuse me?"
"Jennifer, the Morgans do not divorce. It's trashy. You married Richard, you made a commitment, and you will honor it. Whatever problems you're having, you'll work them out privately."
"He's trying to steal my inheritance!"
"Then you shouldn't have been so careless with your finances. Really, Jennifer, I raised you better than this."
She hangs up.
I stare at my phone. My own mother just chose my cheating husband's side over mine.
"She didn't," Jason says quietly. He heard everything. "She's just... you know how Mom is. Image is everything to her."
"More than her own daughter."
"Jen—"
My phone buzzes. Another text from that unknown number.
Check your email. The personal one, not the one Richard has access to. You need to see what he's really been doing.
"Who keeps sending you these?" Jason asks.
"I don't know." But I open my email anyway.
There's a new message from an address I don't recognize. No subject line. Just an attachment.
I click it.
It's a document. Legal papers. My hands start shaking so hard Jason has to hold the phone for me so I can read it.
It's a prenup. One I've never seen before.
But it has my signature on it.
"What is this?" I whisper.
Jason is reading too. His face goes white. "This says... Jen, this says that in the event of divorce, Richard gets half of everything. Including your trust fund. Your company shares. Everything."
"But I never signed a prenup. We didn't have one."
"Your signature is right here."
I look closer. It is my signature. But I never signed this document. I've never even seen it.
"He forged it," I say. The words feel unreal. "Or he... he got me to sign something else and switched the papers. Jason, this is fraud."
"This is more than fraud." Jason is scrolling through the document. "Jen, look at the date. This is dated one week after your wedding."
Three years ago. Richard has been planning to steal everything from me since the beginning.
My phone rings again. This time it's a number I don't know.
"Don't answer it," Jason says.
But I do anyway.
"Mrs. Morgan?" A woman's voice, professional. "This is Catherine Wells from Wells & Associates Law Firm. Your husband Richard has retained us to handle his divorce proceedings. We're calling to inform you that he's filing papers this morning. You'll be served within the hour."
My stomach drops. "He's filing? But I said I wanted—"
"Yes, well, Mr. Morgan is filing first. Which means he's setting the terms. We strongly suggest you retain counsel immediately. Have a good day."
She hangs up.
I look at Jason. "He's filing for divorce. Right now. Before I can."
"That bastard." Jason is already dialing his phone. "He set this whole thing up. The dinner, the open marriage suggestion, everything. He wanted you to react. Wanted you to look unstable. And now he's filing first so he looks like the reasonable one."
My phone buzzes again. The unknown number.
He's not just filing for divorce. He's filing for emergency orders to freeze YOUR assets, claiming you're mentally unstable and a flight risk. He's trying to trap you before you can fight back. You need to move. NOW.
I stand up. The room spins but I force myself to stay steady.
"Jason, I need a lawyer. The best one in New York."
"I'll call Marcus Thompson. He's Michael Kane's personal lawyer. If anyone can fight this, he can."
Michael Kane. My brother's best friend. The cold, ruthless billionaire who destroys everyone who crosses him.
I've known Michael since I was twenty. He's always been Jason's friend, not mine. Always treated me like a kid sister.
But right now, I need someone ruthless.
"Call him," I say. "Call him right now."
While Jason makes the call, I go to my bedroom. I need to change. Need to think. Need to—
I stop dead in the doorway.
My bedroom has been destroyed.
Drawers pulled open. Clothes thrown everywhere. My jewelry box emptied. The safe in the closet stands open, completely empty.
Richard was here. While I was sleeping on the couch, he came in and took everything.
My grandmother's pearls. My mother's engagement ring that she gave me. Every piece of jewelry I owned. All my important documents.
Gone.
On the bed, there's a note in Richard's handwriting.
You should have just agreed to the open marriage. Now you're going to lose everything. Including your dignity. By the way, I canceled all your credit cards. And I've already moved half the money from our joint account to my personal one. Good luck paying for a lawyer.
You were always too naive for your own good.
-R
I'm still standing there, staring at the note, when Jason appears behind me.
"Marcus can meet you in an hour. He says—" He stops when he sees the room. "What the hell?"
"Richard was here." My voice sounds far away. "He took everything."
"I'm going to kill him." Jason pulls out his phone. "I'm calling the police."
"Wait." I grab his arm. Something is clicking into place in my brain. "Jason, if Richard took my jewelry, he's planning to sell it. Those pieces are worth millions. If he's selling them, he needs cash fast."
"So?"
"So why does he need cash if he's about to get half my money in the divorce?"
Jason's eyes widen. "Unless he doesn't have any money of his own anymore."
My phone buzzes. That unknown number again.
You're starting to figure it out. Richard's family is bankrupt. Has been for two years. He's been using your name to keep up appearances, taking out loans against your inheritance. If you don't fight back now, those debts become yours in the divorce. He'll ruin you and walk away clean.
Meet me at Morgenstern's Cafe at noon. Come alone. It's time you learned the whole truth about what your husband has been doing.
And who's been helping him.
I show Jason the message.
"This could be a trap," he says.
"Or it could be someone trying to help me." I look at the destroyed room. At the note on the bed. At everything Richard has taken from me.
My marriage.
My trust.
My money.
My dignity.
He thought he could destroy me. Thought I'd just accept it because I'm too weak to fight back.
But standing here, looking at the ruins of my life, I feel something shift inside me.
The pain is still there. The humiliation is still there.
But underneath it all, there's something else now.
Rage.
Cold, focused, unstoppable rage.
"I'm going to that meeting," I tell Jason.
"Then I'm coming with you."
"No." I turn to face him. "I need to do this alone. But I need you to go to that lawyer. Marcus Thompson. Tell him to prepare for war."
Jason looks at me for a long moment. Then he nods. "Okay. But Jen? Be careful. Whoever's been sending you these messages... they know too much. And they're playing their own game."
"I know." I grab my purse. "But right now, they're the only one who's telling me the truth."
I leave the penthouse—my penthouse that Richard has violated—and head to the elevator.
In the lobby, there's a man in a suit waiting. He steps in front of me.
"Jennifer Morgan? You've been served."
He hands me a thick envelope and walks away.
I open it with shaking hands.
It's the divorce papers. Richard is suing me for half of everything. And there's an emergency order attached—filed an hour ago.
My assets are frozen. Effective immediately.
I can't access my trust fund. Can't access my bank accounts. Can't access anything.
Richard has trapped me.
I'm still standing there, staring at the papers, when my phone rings.
Unknown number. But not the one that's been texting me.
I answer.
"Jennifer Morgan?" A man's voice. Deep, smooth, dangerous. "This is Detective Martinez with the NYPD. I need you to come down to the station immediately."
My heart stops. "Why? What's wrong?"
"Your husband has filed a police report claiming you've been making threats against him and his girlfriend. He has evidence of text messages sent from your phone. We need to ask you some questions."
"I never threatened—"
"Ma'am, I strongly suggest you cooperate. If you don't come in voluntarily, I'll have to send officers to bring you in."
He hangs up.
I stand there in the lobby of my building, divorce papers in one hand, phone in the other, and realize the horrible truth.
Richard isn't just stealing my money.
He's framing me.
And I have no idea how deep this goes or who I can trust.