Everyone in Kingsport knew that Elijah adored me beyond reason. For my birthday, he had drones trace my name across the night sky. To win me back after an argument, he bought a nine-figure ruby on the spot. Everyone said I was the most dazzling woman in Kingsport. On our tenth wedding anniversary, Elijah gave me a gift. I wore my brightest lipstick and his favorite red dress, and opened the velvet box with full anticipation. Inside lay a divorce decree. "Freya," he said, smoking without even looking up, "it's time for you to step aside." After ten years of playing the stand-in, the real one was finally coming back. "Give me $3,000,000, and I'll move out tonight." He frowned, probably not expecting me to be so decisive. "There's no rush. I'll have the driver take you to your new place tomorrow." Thinking of the zeros in my bank account, I raised my champagne glass with a smile. "Sure. Let's celebrate our divorce, then." After all, I had always been the gold-digger who sold herself to Elijah, the one who knew exactly how to milk his guilt for every penny.