The champagne glass shatters against marble. Three hundred guests turn to stare. But not at me. At my husband. Elijah Cross. And the woman whose lipstick is smeared across his mouth. "Two years," I whisper to no one. "Two years of this." The woman is Sienna Hartwell. Blonde. Beautiful. Everything I'm apparently not. She's laughing. He's smiling. And I'm standing here in my silver gown like a ghost at my own anniversary party. Because that's what I am to him. A ghost. Mrs. Elijah Cross in name only. "Arabella." His mother appears at my elbow. Victoria Cross. Ice in human form. "Smile. People are watching." "Let them watch," I say. Her fingers dig into my arm. "You signed a contract. You knew what this was." Yes. I did. Two years ago, my family's political empire was crumbling. Scandal. Debt. Ruin. The Cross family needed legitimacy. Old money marrying older titles. My family name opened doors their billions couldn't. So we made a deal. I gave them my name. My connections. My dignity. They gave my family enough money to survive. "He's never even touched me," I say quietly. Victoria's smile doesn't waver. "That wasn't part of the arrangement." She walks away. Elijah is still kissing Sienna. The guests are pretending not to notice. Whispering behind champagne flutes. Taking photos they'll never post but will definitely share in private group chats. I should leave. I should walk out of this ballroom with my head high. Instead, I stand here. Frozen. Because leaving means admitting defeat. Admitting that I sold myself for nothing. "Pathetic." The word comes from somewhere behind me. I don't turn around. Don't need to. Elijah's brother. Marcus Cross. "Watching your husband make out with his mistress at your anniversary party," Marcus continues. "That's a new low, even for this family." "Go away, Marcus." "Why? You're the only entertaining thing here." He moves beside me. Tall. Dark-haired. The opposite of Elijah's golden-boy perfection. "You know he's taking her upstairs after this, right?" My stomach turns. "To the east wing," Marcus adds. "Your wing. Your bedroom is right next door to the guest suite." "Why are you telling me this?" He leans close. "Because I want to see what you'll do." Then he's gone. The party continues. Elijah finally pulls away from Sienna. Whispers something in her ear. She giggles. They head toward the exit. Toward the stairs. Toward my wing. I should let them go. I should go to one of the other twelve bedrooms in this mansion and lock the door. Instead, I follow. The marble staircase is cold under my heels. The hallway is dark. Silent. I reach my bedroom door. Next door, I hear voices. Sienna's laugh. High and bright. Elijah's low murmur. Then silence. Then sounds I've never heard from him. Sounds he's never made with me. Because he's never been with me. Two years of marriage. Two years of sleeping alone in a king-sized bed while he traveled for business. Or worked late. Or simply didn't come home. I thought maybe he was faithful. Distant but faithful. I was wrong. I press my hand against the wall. The sounds continue. Something inside me cracks. Not my heart. That broke months ago. Something deeper. Something that's been holding me together. I walk to my room. Close the door. Lock it. Sit on the edge of my bed in my expensive silver gown. And I laugh. Because I've been playing the dutiful wife. The understanding wife. The invisible wife. For nothing. My phone buzzes. A text from my sister. Charlotte. *"Just saw the photos. Are you okay?"* I don't respond. Another text. This one from my father. *"Remember the agreement. Don't cause problems."* The agreement. Always the agreement. I married Elijah to save my family. To give them the money they needed. The stability. And I've kept my end of the bargain. I've been the perfect Cross wife. Attended every event. Smiled for every camera. Never complained. Even when Elijah looked through me like I was glass. Even when his family treated me like hired help. Even when I realized he would never love me. The sounds from next door get louder. I stand up. Walk to my closet. Pull out a suitcase. Then I stop. Because leaving solves nothing. I still need the Cross family money. My family still needs their support. And Elijah still has three years left on our contract. Three more years of this. Unless. I sit back down. Open my phone. Scroll through my contacts. Stop at a name I haven't called in two years. James Rothschild. My ex. The man I left to marry Elijah. The man who told me I was making a mistake. He was right. My finger hovers over his name. Then I hear it. Sienna's voice through the wall. Breathy. Satisfied. "When are you going to leave her?" Silence. "Elijah. When?" "Soon." His voice. Tired. "The contract ends in three years." "Three years?" Sienna sounds angry now. "You said—" "I know what I said. But I need her family's connections until the merger is complete. After that, she's gone." My hand tightens around my phone. "You promise?" Sienna asks. "I promise. Three years. Then I'm filing for divorce. And you and I can finally be together properly." "What about the money? Her family—" "Will be irrelevant by then. We'll have everything we need." I stand up. Walk to the wall. Press my ear against it. "I love you," Sienna says. "I love you too," Elijah responds. Words he's never said to me. Words he never will. I back away from the wall. Look at myself in the mirror. Silver gown. Perfect makeup. Empty eyes. Mrs. Elijah Cross. The ghost wife. The placeholder. The fool. Not anymore. I pick up my phone again. But not to call James. I dial a different number. One I swore I'd never use. It rings once. Twice. "Arabella." The voice is smooth. Dangerous. "I wondered when you'd call." "I need your help," I say. "Of course you do. What are you offering in return?" I look at the wall. At the room where my husband is with another woman. At the life I've been living. "Everything," I say. "I'm offering everything." The voice laughs. Low and dark. "Then we have a deal." I hang up. The sounds from next door have stopped. But I'm just getting started. Because Elijah Cross thinks I'm a ghost. He's about to learn that ghosts can haunt you. And I'm going to haunt him until he breaks.