Nathan Mercer was curled up in the passenger seat, eyes locked on the elevator entrance.

More than an hour had passed.

Inside, his thoughts were a total mess, all tangled up, like someone had stuffed a whole bale of straw into his chest.

He had wanted to surprise his wife and daughter, so he kept quiet about getting out three months early.

But the one who came to pick him up—his younger brother, Joel Mercer—had dropped a bomb on him the second they met.

“Miranda Holloway might’ve cheated on you.”

Then Joel had driven him straight to the underground garage of the Marriott Hotel and told him to wait.

Nathan was still dazed.

This wasn’t just bad news. It was like getting struck by lightning out of a clear blue sky.

If this was true...

What was he supposed to do?

His wife was a sales supervisor at her company. Meeting clients, talking business, that was normal. He knew that.

But booking a room in a hotel too?

Was that part of “business” now?

What, discuss contracts while rolling around in bed?

The second that thought flashed through his mind—some other man pressing down on his wife, touching her, taking what should never have been his—Nathan felt his blood surge straight to his head.

His jaw clenched hard.

It felt like a knife was sawing into his heart, over and over, without mercy.

The pain was brutal.

He was thirty-two this year.

He had known Miranda for seven years.

Married for six.

Their daughter was five.

They had always looked like the kind of couple people envied—close, affectionate, steady.

A warm home. A peaceful family.

A lot of their relatives and friends were low-key jealous.

Nathan Mercer’s wife was Miranda Holloway, his college alumna, the former campus beauty from their department.

And honestly?

She really was gorgeous.

Back in school, the two of them had basically zero overlap. No sparks, no story, nothing.

They only got to know each other by chance after they started working.

To marry Miranda Holloway, Nathan had practically fought a whole campaign. He chased her hard for two full years before he finally brought her home as his wife.

Everyone said the same thing: this guy must’ve stacked up blessings over several lifetimes to marry a woman that stunning.

As for anything Miranda wanted—

he said yes. No questions asked.

Designer bag? Buy it.

Luxury heels? Buy them.

High-end cosmetics? Buy them too.

If he could, Nathan would’ve gladly knelt at her feet every day and brushed the dust off her shoes himself. That was how far gone he was.

He was a company executive, but his monthly salary was under fifty thousand.

Miranda, on the other hand, could spend over thirty thousand a month without even trying.

A random set of skincare or makeup could cost several thousand, easy.

She only had one job in that marriage—

to stay beautiful.

In most families, a husband would’ve blown up long ago.

But Nathan never complained. Not once.

He was willing. Totally willing.

Because every time he took Miranda out with him and caught the looks from other men—the envy, the jealousy, that sour mix of admiration and frustration—something inside him swelled with pride.

It was hard to even put into words. He just felt good. Ridiculously good.

What does a man grind so hard for, at the end of the day?

Money. A woman. And his pride.

Nathan Mercer had money.

His wife, Miranda Holloway, was beautiful.

And with those two in place, his pride naturally stood tall.

So yeah.

It felt worth it.

After their daughter was born, life got way more expensive.

Milk powder, clothes, doctor visits, preschool down the line—every little thing burned cash.

Even so, Nathan never complained.

Not once.

He was willing.

More than willing.

As long as his wife and daughter lived well, he could swallow any hardship and keep moving.

But good days never seem to last.

Something huge blew up at his company.

A real disaster.

From the boss all the way down to the top executives, they were all dragged in under charges of illegal operations.