Unforgettable Heart

The day before our wedding, my fiancé Alexander died in a tragic accident. Everyone expected me to be consumed by grief. But I didn't shed a single tear, nor did I fall apart. Five years later, at a luxury hotel in Manhattan, the man who was supposed to be dead has "come back to life"—and he's openly making love to my sister-in-law Marjorie. In the middle of the party, he pins her to a chaise lounge, half-naked, spreads her legs, and thrusts violently. Her shrill moans echo through the room, and the countless contraceptives scattered on the floor tell of the ferocity of their encounter. When he notices me, he doesn't stop—he thrusts even harder and gives me a triumphant smirk. "You were my fiancée, weren't you? You waited five years? What a creepy obsession. But I suppose I could keep you as a mistress. Marjorie on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays; you on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Be grateful." I smiled and said, "I think you've mistaken me for someone else." Alexander doesn't know that just before the accident, I had received "a certain video." He doesn't know that during the five years they were gallivanting around Europe, I had already married and had a four-year-old daughter. And he doesn't know that my husband is the true master of the Carter family—his uncle.