Chapter 1

Photos of Easton Chapman's mistress were delivered to Sloane Sedberry. Sloane stared blankly at the scattered photos on the dining table. She was lost in thought. "They've slept together?" According to the records in the notebook, this was the 15th one. "They," the butler, Josh Grimm, paused briefly before continuing, "did it in the car three times, in the hot spring twice, in the suburbs once, on the balcony at home six times, and in your bathroom…" On the day of her seventh wedding anniversary with Easton, Sloane decided to end her marriage. Keeping a mistress? Anyone could do that. For the holidays, Easton didn't care to celebrate. There would always be someone else celebrating them in his place. "How long will the divorce take?" "Only 30 days once the agreement is signed, Ms. Sedberry." "Alright. If I sign today, I'll be free in 30 days, right?" As Josh nodded, Sloane took the notebook. Her breath hitched in her throat. Keke Jahn was a 19-year-old who was an undergraduate at Jemning University. Just then, Sloane received a call from Easton. Sloane pressed the answer button, but before she could speak, a man's gentle and persuasive voice came through the receiver. "Keke, be good. No more part-time jobs at bars, okay? I worry about you…" A suffocating pain seemed to squeeze Sloane's heart. In the end, Sloane uttered, "Easton, let's get a divorce." "Okay, okay… I'm coming back right now…" Easton's voice carried an unmistakable panic. It was as if he had only just realized who he had called. The call was cut off. Sloane lowered her gaze. The carefully prepared meal on the dining table had long gone cold. "Ms. Sedberry… Should I reheat the food?" Before Josh could finish, Sloane raised her hand slightly. "Get Wilder." She rested her head in her hands and closed her eyes in exhaustion. Sloane could hardly remember how things had gotten to this point between her and Easton. They had known each other even before their arranged marriage. Back then, she had just returned from studying abroad. Furious at her family's arrangement of a marriage for her, she went out drinking alone, only to encounter a group of men with bad intentions. Easton had stepped in then. The men recognized who he was and left in a hurry. That was how she and Easton met—so naturally, so seamlessly. Until the day of the arranged marriage meeting, Sloane never expected her fiancé to be Easton. The two quickly tied the knot. But Easton was born a flirt. Two years into their marriage, and he had already grown bored. Sloane still remembered what Easton had once told her. He said, "Lo, I'm not unfaithful. It's just that my heart has shattered into so many pieces. I can't give them all to just one person. "Lo, no matter how many girlfriends I have, you're the only one I'll ever marry." At first, Sloane did everything she could to force Easton to turn back. When he heard about it, Easton carelessly comforted her with a few words, then turned around to find his next conquest. Her heart finally shattered the day she found out he had been keeping one college student after another as his mistress. Sloane followed Easton's lead and took on a young college student as her lover. … Sloane's thoughts were interrupted by the deliberate sound of slow, approaching footsteps. She looked up, only to find Wilder Lamont standing before her. Wilder was dressed in a light blue striped shirt. His tousled fringe fell lazily over his eyes. His presence exuded the gentle warmth of youth. Just like his name, he was like a soft ray of sunlight, piercing straight into the depths of Sloane's heart. "Sloane?" Wilder took two steps forward and crouched in front of Sloane. He pulled her hand into his own before resting his head against it. His damp, brown eyes locked onto her face. "Sloane, when will you give me a proper title?" His voice, low and husky, carried an irresistible allure. "I want to celebrate our anniversary with you too." The deep rumble of a car engine came from outside then. Easton was back. A flicker of disappointment flashed through Wilder's eyes. Unable to hide his dejection, he murmured with quiet resentment, "Sloane, are you sending me away?"