Love, Lies 1

Chapter 1 

The air at my mother’s funeral was thick with grief, the kind that clings to your bones. Halfway through the service, the butler hurried over, his face ashen, clutching his phone like it was a live grenade. 

“Miss Harper,” he whispered, voice trembling, “Ethan Caldwell’s mistress just had his baby.” 

Ethan didn’t even flinch when I confronted him. He just gave me that cold, detached look of 

his. “Handle the funeral first,” he said, like it was just another item on his to–do list. 

The next day, he didn’t bother showing up to pay his respects. Instead, my phone buzzed with 

his name. 

His voice came through, infuriatingly calm. “I’m at the Elite Maternity Retreat taking care of 

her right now. I’m not coming to the funeral.” 

I stayed silent, gripping the phone so hard my knuckles turned white. He sighed, like I was the one being difficult. “Relax, Emily. It was a one–night mistake. She’s not trying to mess up the 

Harper–Caldwell merger.” 

“She just wants to keep the kid as a keepsake. But I’m the dad, so I’ve got to step up. After we’re married, I’ll spend Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays at her place to look after 

the kid.” 

“Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, I’ll be home with you. Cool?” 

My hands shook, but I forced a bitter smile, tears burning my eyes. “Ethan, we’re through. The 

engagement’s off.” 

He let out a sharp laugh, dripping with arrogance. “Your mom just died, Emily. Don’t pull this 

drama now.” 

I hung up, my heart pounding, and marched straight to Nathan Sterling–Ethan’s biggest rival -standing across the room. I locked eyes with him, my voice steady despite the storm inside. 

“Marry me, Nathan. Help me take down the Caldwells. You in or out?” 

At the funeral, Nathan’s sharp gaze flickered with surprise, his usually stoic face betraying a 

hint of a flush. 

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He cleared his throat, stumbling over his words. “The Sterlings have a rule: one wife, one life. You marry me, Emily, you’re mine forever.” 

I thought he was dodging me, and my heart sank. I turned to walk away, but his hand shot out, grabbing mine with a strength that stopped me cold. 

The cocky edge in his eyes softened, replaced by something serious, almost solemn. “Emily, you sure about this? If we do this, there’s no backing out.” 

I gave him a small, determined smile. “I’m sure. No backing out.” 

Nathan was the man my mother, Margaret, had always wanted for me–someone with integrity, a respected family name, and a genuine heart. 

If I hadn’t fallen for Ethan’s charm, I’d have been Nathan’s fiancée from the start. 

The days following the funeral were a blur of condolences, paperwork, and arrangements. 

Nathan handled everything, stepping up for nearly two weeks without complaint. 

Ethan? Not a single call. Just photo after photo of him and Jessica Monroe, his mistress, beaming beside their newborn. 

One post hit the hardest: the two of them forming a heart with their hands over the baby, the caption reading: [My perfect little family.] 

I scoffed, but the ache in my chest was undeniable. Then my phone rang again. Ethan’s voice was lazy, almost bored. “Funeral’s done, right? Wanna swing by the maternity retreat to meet 

the kid?” 

I caught my reflection in the car’s rearview mirror–dark circles under my eyes, exhaustion carved into my face. My voice was ice. “Ethan, I said we’re done.” 

He went quiet for a moment before muttering, “Fine. Jessica’s been a bit fragile since the birth. Seeing you might set her off.” 

The tears I’d been holding back for weeks finally broke free. I forced a bitter laugh, wiping my eyes. “Ethan, are you deaf or just stupid? I said we’re done.” 

He paused, then his tone turned venomous. “Five years, Emily. Five years with me, and you 

think you’re still a catch? No one else is going to want you. The kid was a mistake, and you’re blowing it out of proportion.” 

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I didn’t answer. Something crashed on his end, glass shattering. He sneered, “Go ahead, break up with me. I’ll be right here, waiting for you to come crawling back.” 

Then he hung up. 

Still reeling from the call, I drove back to our apartment in Sterling Bay. But when I got there, the locks had already been changed. 

Ethan’s phone was off, leaving me no choice but to crash at a nearby hotel. 

The next morning, my phone buzzed with a push notification: [Jessica Monroe is live now.] 

I tapped it—and there she was, broadcasting straight from the Elite Maternity Retreat in Los Angeles. 

Jessica was chatting up the viewers, all smiles, while Ethan sat beside her, gazing at her with a warmth I’d once thought was just for me. 

The stream had been running for nearly five hours. The comments flew in nonstop: 

“Living the dream in a $500k–a–month retreat–queen energy!” 

“So jealous!” 

“I need me a husband like that!” 

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. 

Ethan used to hate cameras. Before he took over Caldwell Enterprises, he was a soldier- private, guarded. I once begged him to take a simple selfie with me. He rolled his eyes and said it was a waste of time. 

But now? He was all over the screen, smiling for the world like he’d been made for it. 

At one point, Jessica giggled and leaned closer to the mic. “He’s just the sweetest, you know?” 

Sweet? 

My chest tightened. Ethan had never been sweet to me. I remembered begging him to see a movie once. After relentless pleading, he finally caved–only to fall asleep halfway through. 

When the lights came on, he rubbed his temples and snapped, “That was a complete waste of 

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my time.” 

But now he could spend five hours on camera, smiling for Jessica. 

He could be sweet. 

Just not for me. 

Chapter 1