Five years of marriage, and Chloe finally agreed to spend Christmas with my family. Then her phone rang. One call, and she slammed the brakes—right there on the highway. "Check the trunk. Something's rattling back there." I set up the warning triangle and checked everything. Nothing wrong. When I came back, the car doors were locked from the inside. I'd left my jacket in the car to save time. The December wind cut right through me, and I couldn't stop shaking. "Babe, come on. Let me in." "Mr. Sterling just moved up the meeting. I need to drop off this proposal. You wait here—I'll be back." Her eyes met mine through the window. Cold. Calculating. "Besides, going to your parents' place is a waste of time anyway, Gabriel. I'm doing this so you won't cause a scene. Try to understand." She floored it. The car disappeared down the highway. I pulled out my phone and called my executive assistant. "Close the next exit. Then come get me." "And tail my wife's car." "I want to know exactly who the hell thinks they can use my name to meet my wife on Christmas Eve." Three minutes later, my assistant pulled up beside me. "Mr. Sterling, you must be freezing. Get in." "I thought you were going home for the holidays. What happened? Did you and the Mrs. have another fight?" I climbed into the back seat, my frozen legs barely cooperating. "Not a fight." He relaxed a little. "Good. Your father just calmed down. We can't have any problems now, not when—" "An affair." His face went white. He shrank back in his seat, didn't dare ask another question. He just hit the gas and stayed on Chloe's tail. The highway reopened. Chloe was flying—heels and all, she had the pedal to the floor. I watched the direction. My brow furrowed. The Sterlings don't do business deals by the ocean. I called her again. Her voice dripped with irritation. "Gabriel, are you seriously not done yet? Just because you don't have a job doesn't mean you get to interrupt people who do, okay?" My son's voice chimed in next, parroting her tone. "Dad, you've got it easy, sure, but don't forget—Mom's the one bringing home the money." "She's carrying the weight for this whole family. How can you be so shameless, bothering her at a time like this?" They hung up. I watched them jump out of the car and climb aboard a yacht docked in the shallows—slick, rehearsed, like they'd done it a hundred times. Funny thing: that yacht was my parents' eighteenth birthday gift to me. I followed them, stone-faced. A server blocked my path. "The Sterling heir's private family event. No outsiders allowed." My assistant lost it. He grabbed the guy by the collar. "There's only one Sterling heir, and he's standing right in front of you! Gabriel Sterling!" The server's jaw dropped. "But—but the manager said—" My assistant rolled his eyes and called the beach property manager. Two minutes later, the manager came sprinting over, bowing so low I thought he'd snap in half. "Mr. Sterling, this is a misunderstanding—a complete misunderstanding." "We were told Mr. Sterling was hosting a family event on the yacht. We didn't dare ask questions!" "We'll stop everything right now and investigate everyone on board!" I glanced at the sweat pouring down his face and frowned slightly. "Don't make a scene. And don't tell anyone who I am. I want to see exactly who's got the balls to pull this." The yacht turned around. The gangway lowered. I stepped aboard. Everyone in the main cabin turned to stare. The moment they saw me, their faces twisted with rage. "Gabriel, this isn't where you belong!" "Who do you think you are, showing up on Mr. Sterling's yacht? Apologize to Mr. Sterling and get the hell out!" I looked at the man they were all fawning over—the so-called "Mr. Sterling." He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place him. The two people yelling at me, though? I knew them very well. My in-laws. Chloe's own parents. I laughed—bitter, sharp. "It's Christmas Eve. My wife doesn't come home with me. Instead, she shows up at a stranger's family event." "Mom, Dad… care to explain?"
"Explain?" My father-in-law sneered and shoved me. "You broke nobody—what makes you think you can demand explanations on our turf?" My mother-in-law clutched the Hermès shawl I'd given her tighter around her shoulders, smirking. "Exactly. Who the hell are you? What gives you the right to ask us anything?" "Get out. Now. Or we'll throw you into the ocean ourselves." I could see it was pointless talking to these two. "Where's Chloe? I want to see Chloe." I started shouting her name, heading for the stairs. My father-in-law grabbed me and punched me square in the nose. "What are you yelling for? Why are you looking for our daughter?" "Shout one more time and we're calling the cops!" My assistant's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his skull. "You are the Sterling heir, and these are the in-laws you gave up everything to help?" The two immediately started cursing. "Stop lying! He's not worthy of being called the Sterling heir. There's only one Sterling heir in this world—Felix Sterling!" The man leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching like this was all some show, finally stepped forward. He grabbed me by the collar, a cold smirk on his face. "They're right. What the hell are you? You think you're good enough to set foot on my yacht?" Looking closer, I was certain—I'd seen this guy before. But I couldn't remember where. I grabbed his hand and twisted. He yelped and let go. My assistant handed me my marriage certificate. I opened it right in front of Felix's face. "I'm Chloe's husband. I'm here to see my wife. Got a problem with that?" I thought that would end this circus. Instead, my mother-in-law pulled something out of her purse. "What are you so smug about? You're just her Ex-husband." I looked down at the document in her hand. My breath caught. "Divorce papers?" "That's impossible. Chloe and I—we're fine. We never got divorced—" I snatched the certificate and stared at it. It was real. My brain raced. A few weeks ago, Chloe had been so excited, telling me she'd met some big-time CEO. Then she said she wanted to help me switch jobs and asked me to sign a blank sheet of paper. I'd signed without a second thought. I trusted her completely. Turns out she'd divorced me—unilaterally, behind my back—a long time ago. Betrayal flooded through me like poison. I tore the certificate to shreds and hurled it to the floor, my eyes scanning the room for Chloe. "Chloe! Get out here and explain this!" Felix saw me losing it. He lunged at me from behind. I turned. His fist came flying. My assistant blocked it and swung back—hard. Felix hit the deck, blood streaming from his nose, screaming. "You dare hit me on my yacht? You're dead! Get them!" A wave of security guards rushed us. We couldn't fight them all. My assistant threw himself in front of a metal pole aimed at my head—and got flung overboard. My eyes went wide. I dove after him, grabbed his hand, but my own body slammed against the railing and hung there, dangling. The wind whipped around us. Cold sweat poured down my face. I shouted down at him. "Hold on to me! The current's brutal here—if you fall, you're dead!" He grabbed my other hand with a death grip, nodding through gritted teeth. I gasped for air and shouted toward the deck. "Someone help me up!" My in-laws looked at me dangling there—and took a step back. Everyone else just stood there, watching like it was a betting pool. How long could I hold on? Out of a dozen people, only one moved. Henry. My son. My chest warmed. Even if the rest of the family were monsters, at least my boy had a good heart. Then he lifted his leg—wearing the latest Air Jordans I'd bought him—and stomped on my hand. "Loser. We told you not to come. You just had to show up and ruin everything." "If you mess with my new dad again, I'll throw you off this boat myself."
In that moment, my entire body went cold. I couldn't breathe. I knew Chloe thought I was worthless. I knew her parents hated that I had no connections, no background. But my son—I'd raised him with my own hands. I'd never missed a single moment of his life from the day he was born. We shared blood. How could he do this to me? My throat tightened. Tears stung my eyes. Below me, my assistant was shaking with rage. "Mr. Sterling, forget about me—get up there and destroy them!" His shout snapped me back. He'd been with me since we were kids. We only got separated because I'd fought with my family over Chloe, cut all ties, and walked away. No matter what, I couldn't let him disappear into the ocean. I tightened my grip on both hands, veins bulging on my forehead. The imposter—Felix—laughed. "Well, since our guest of honor is here, I've decided to move up the engagement party. Today. Right now." He bent down and patted my face, mocking. "Chloe's ex-husband… today, you're gonna hang right here and watch your wife call me her man. How's that sound?" Rage burned in my eyes. But all I could do was hold on. Then, from the staircase, Chloe appeared. She saw me hanging off the side of the boat and gasped, covering her mouth. "Gabriel—what are you doing here?" "And what's going on? What are you all doing?" Felix laughed and strutted over, draping his arm over her shoulder—right in front of me. "I'm in a great mood today. Decided we're getting engaged. Right here, right now." "But there's trash cluttering up my yacht. Chloe, if you can get rid of the trash, I'll be very happy." Chloe's face went pale. But she did what he asked. "Gabriel… I'm sorry. Since you already know, just… help me one last time, okay?" "This opportunity means everything to me. I have to take it. You understand, don't you?" Her voice was soft, gentle. Her hands were breaking my fingers. I screamed. The air punched out of my lungs. I almost lost my grip. Felix roared with laughter. "See that, buddy? People with money can do whatever the hell they want." Below me, my assistant was screaming. "You bitch, stop! Felix is a FAKE—Gabriel Sterling is the real heir!" "He gave up everything for you! This year was the first time his parents agreed to accept you, and you're listening to this fraud? Pull us up!" Chloe didn't believe a word of it. "I know exactly who Gabriel is." "So that's why Felix wants you dead—you came onto his yacht to fake being someone you're not. No wonder. You deserve this!" I stared at her—this woman I loved more than anything—and couldn't find a shred of mercy in her eyes. She stopped pretending. Met my gaze head-on. And slowly, deliberately, one by one, she bent my fingers backward. I'd been holding a grown man off the side of a boat. My body was numb. I felt nothing but searing pain. Only my thumb and index finger were left gripping the railing. Then Felix spoke. "All right, pull them up."
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