"""Plan a wedding for my husband and his mistress,"" I told my assistant. ""Seven days from now. The same night I leave him for good.""
People called Simon Fulmer the most devoted Don in Lake City. He lit up the sky with blue fireworks for our fifth anniversary. He knelt in the street to tie my shoelace. He swore he would die before he ever cheated.
They didn't know the fireworks were meant for his first love. She hated blue, so he gave them to me.
That night, while he posted ""I'll love you forever,"" she was in his bed.
So I signed the divorce papers he had once handed me himself.
On my birthday, his guests walked one floor up to his wedding with her. The giant screen showed them everything. By then, I was already on a plane home.
Five years ago, he had sworn to my father that if I ever came home heartbroken, he would never set foot in our territory. If he did, he would lose everything.
Then word came that I had died in a car crash.
He came anyway. He knelt at my coffin and lost his whole empire.
He never noticed the masked woman in the crowd, watching him cry."
