Chapter 1

"Seriously? You're worked up about him shaving?" my best friend Lucy let out an exasperated laugh. "Since when is that a crime?"

"He never shaves at night," I said quietly.

"Oh come on, maybe he had a dinner meeting!"

I shook my head firmly.

"Lucy, you know Nathan. Home by seven, lights out by eleven - the man runs like clockwork. He hasn't done a business dinner in years."

"Right, because he's too busy being madly in love with you," Lucy countered, her expression softening. "Emma, please tell me you're not actually worried about this?"

I caught myself and managed a small laugh.

"Of course not."

As if on cue, my phone lit up with Nathan's call.

"Sweetheart, Jenny mentioned you hardly touched your lunch. I've had Mark pick up some of your favorites from Bella's Kitchen. Get some food in you, take a little walk before your nap - and hey, I grabbed us tickets to that new Broadway show you've been wanting to see."

His voice carried that gentle warmth he reserved just for me, like someone speaking to their most precious person in the world.

Lucy was listening in, shaking her head in disbelief.

"God, if anyone at Pierce & Associates could hear their ice-cold CEO right now..."

I couldn't blame her amazement. The Nathan Pierce that everyone else knew was all sharp suits and sharper decisions, the ruthless Wall Street legend who'd built an empire before forty. Sure, people knew he was devoted to his wife - but they had no idea just how deep that devotion ran.

We'd been together for ten years, married for five, and this tender, attentive version of Nathan had always been mine alone. He could recite my coffee order in his sleep, knew exactly which designer's new collection would catch my eye, could tell from a single text if I was having a rough day...

Last summer, I stormed out after a fight about his overprotective streak. Spent the night at The Plaza. When I came home the next morning, I found him on our living room couch, still in yesterday's suit, looking like he'd aged years overnight. The moment he saw me, he crossed the room in three strides and pulled me close, his voice breaking: "I'm so sorry, baby. Never again."

Then there was that weekend at the Hamptons last year. Our vacation villa caught fire while he was out grabbing my favorite ice cream. He tried to charge into the burning building - it took three security guards and the local firefighters to hold him back. Only when he heard me screaming his name from the pool house did he stop fighting them, his designer suit singed and smoking.

He still has a scar above his eyebrow from that night. Every time I see it, my heart twists, but he just gives me that soft smile and says, "My battle scar from being Emma Pierce's hero."

That's the thing about Nathan's love for me. It's my constant, my true north - more reliable than gravity itself.

And God knows I love him just as fiercely.

Which is exactly why something as small as him shaving before bed...

I noticed it instantly.

Chapter 2

They say Cancers are born worriers. Mix that with my mom's perfectionist DNA, and you've got someone who sees a red flag in every tiny change to routine.

Normally when a guy shaves at night, he's heading to a business dinner. But Nathan? He's got his routine down to a science - dinner at one of his regular spots, then straight home. No cocktail hours, no networking events, nothing.

So what could possibly make Manhattan's most powerful CEO break his golden rule? Was there some crisis at Pierce & Associates he was shielding me from?

I had to see for myself. If everything was fine, great. If not, we'd face it together.

I called Sarah. We'd been roommates all through Harvard, and now she was CFO at Pierce & Associates. Back when her family lost everything in the 2008 crash, I'd helped her get back on her feet and convinced Nathan to give her a shot at the firm.

She practically sprinted across the marble lobby when she saw me.

"Emma!" She pulled me into a hug before whisking me toward the private elevator. "You need to visit more often! The whole office lights up when you're here. Even Nathan's death glare takes a vacation."

I couldn't help but smile. "Everything okay around here lately?"

"Better than okay - huge news!"

"What?" My stomach dropped.

"We doubled our profits! Everyone's getting massive bonuses!" Sarah's whole face lit up. That's what I've always loved about her - life knocked her down hard, but she never lost that sparkle.

Nathan was stuck in meetings, so Sarah walked me to his corner office. As we passed the executive floor, I noticed a cluster of unfamiliar faces - all young, female, and looking like they'd stepped off a magazine cover.

A nasty little thought crept in: Was this why he'd suddenly started caring about evening grooming?

I immediately felt sick at myself. This was Nathan Pierce, for God's sake. The same man who'd hosted the Miss Manhattan pageant at our venue and spent the whole evening answering work emails in his office.

"You okay? You've got that look," Sarah nudged me.

I bit my lip. "New assistants?"

"What? Oh - the PR team. Business is booming, so Nathan set up a dedicated external relations department. His idea, actually - said it was the only way to keep his promise about being home for dinner every night."

She gave me that knowing look. "Emma Pierce, you were literally on Vanity Fair's '30 Under 30' list. Are you seriously worried about the PR girls?"

"I know, I know, I'm being ridiculous," I laughed weakly.

Sarah squeezed my arm. "Your overthinking is going to give you premature wrinkles. Relax - they handle client events. Nathan barely knows their names."

After she left, I sank into Nathan's chair, staring at the gallery of our photos on his desk. Photos from our vineyard wedding, our Amalfi Coast anniversary, casual shots of me laughing in Central Park...

So the company was thriving. No other woman. Maybe he just got a fancy new electric razor from his Birchbox. Maybe he just felt like it.

Lucy and Sarah kept telling me if I hadn't married someone as steady as Nathan, my anxiety would've landed me in therapy years ago.

Then came a soft knock.

A woman entered, head slightly bowed, setting down a cup of artisan tea with picture-perfect precision.

"Mrs. Pierce, please don't hesitate if you need anything else."

My blood ran cold.

Claire Morrison. Nathan's executive assistant.

I hadn't expected to see her.

She was still here.

Chapter 3

A few years ago, Nathan came home looking like he'd seen a ghost. I knew something was wrong the moment he walked through our apartment door.

He sat on our Italian leather sofa for what felt like hours before he finally spoke. He'd run into the family of the drunk driver who killed his parents.

The accident happened when Nathan was at Harvard. His parents were stopped at a red light on the Mass Pike when a drunk driver plowed into them at full speed. All three died instantly.

Claire Morrison was that driver's daughter.

Nathan had discovered this three months after his HR team hired her as his executive assistant.

I'd never seen him so shaken - his hands trembling, eyes bloodshot. "Emma, I can't... every time I see her, all I can think about is that night. Sometimes I just want to..." His voice cracked. This was Nathan Pierce - the man who could make or break companies without blinking - completely undone.

I pulled him close, running my fingers through his hair. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to handle this alone. You can have HR transfer her, give her a great recommendation."

That was the first time I'd ever seen the ruthless CEO of Pierce & Associates break down like a lost child, holding onto me like I was his anchor to reality.

When I carefully broached the subject a few weeks later, he seemed back to his usual composed self.

"I had her moved to Operations on a different floor."

"Why keep her at all? Are you sure you're okay with this?"

His expression was surprisingly peaceful. "You were right - I can't let the past control me forever. Maybe this is my chance to grow beyond it. I'm fine, really."

After that, during my occasional office visits, Claire vanished from sight. Nathan never mentioned her again. I thought he'd finally found his peace with it.

Until today, when she walked into his corner office.

"I thought Melissa was your assistant now?"

Claire gave that nervous smile she'd perfected. "She's on maternity leave. A few of us from Operations are rotating coverage."

"That must be quite the adjustment," I said diplomatically.

Claire Morrison wasn't exactly Manhattan executive material. Small-boned, almost delicate, with plain features and off-the-rack clothes. She had this permanent deer-in-headlights look - like someone who spent their life trying not to be noticed.

She dipped her head slightly. "Mrs. Pierce, I should get back to the front desk."

As she turned, I caught sight of something on her neck - several distinctive red marks.

Unmistakably hickeys.

Nathan returned from his board meeting looking every inch the power player in his bespoke Tom Ford suit.

He leaned against the doorframe of his office, just watching me with that smile that still made my heart skip. "Finally decided to grace Pierce & Associates with your presence?"

I walked over and slipped into his arms. "Maybe I should visit more often. Your entire staff lights up when I'm here."

He tweaked my nose playfully. "They better not light up too much."

I chose my next words carefully. "Claire brought me coffee earlier."

He stilled for a moment before managing a quiet "Mm."

"She's filling in as your assistant. Nathan, you don't have to explain - I know you've worked through this."

I looked up at him. "Mom always said you had incredible resilience. Look at you now - running this empire, handling everything so perfectly. She knew exactly what you'd become."

His dark eyes held mine for a long moment before he bent to brush his lips against my forehead.

"Emma," he murmured against my skin, "that's all because of you."