As I stepped through the large glass doors and into the lobby of the hotel, I gasped at its beauty. The rich colors of beige and gold gave the most elegant look. The marble floors shined brightly, as did the multiple oversized chandeliers that hung throughout. Victorian furniture filled the space with such elegance that I felt like I was transported back in time.

“I believe the gala is this way.” Giana hooked her arm around Jared and gracefully strutted her way through the lobby and into the grand ballroom.

Everyone in attendance was filthy rich. You could smell money lingering in the air. I needed a drink if I was going to get through this night. I tapped Jared on the shoulder and told him that I was going over to the bar.

“Okay. I’ll meet you over there in a few minutes. Giana wants us to move around the room so people can get a good look at us, especially Donovan’s wife.”

I rolled my eyes and headed to the bar. “What may I get for you?” the sexy Italian bartender asked.

“Whiskey sour, please. Double whiskey.”

“Coming right up.” The corners of his mouth curved up as he pulled a glass down.

I looked around the room at all the men dressed in black and white tuxedos and the women on their arms that spent hours and probably thousands of dollars to look the part of the elegant wife. I couldn’t help but think about how many of these men were unfaithful and how their unsuspecting wives had no clue. That’s what rich men do. They play the part of the happy, loving husband, giving their wives anything they want to distract them from the multiple affairs they are having. I always knew that was what Brendon did. The girl I caught him with wasn’t the first. He came home countless nights reeking of women’s perfume and the lame excuse as to why. I was in denial and I didn’t want to believe that he would cheat on me. I spent my whole life looking for love and when I thought I finally found it, I wasn’t going to give up so easily. Brendon didn’t just cheat; he was a manipulator and an abuser. Not physical, but emotional. He used the way I grew up to strip me of any self-confidence and dignity I had.

“Here you go, pretty lady. One whiskey sour.” The bartender handed me my drink with a wide grin.

“Double the whiskey, right?” I asked.

“Of course.” He grinned and moved on to the next guest.

I took my drink and walked across to where Jared and Giana were talking to Donovan and his wife. Bold move, G.

“Gabby, there you are. I would like you to meet Donovan Holms and his wife, Sylvia.”

With a watchful look, Donovan studied my reaction very carefully to ensure that I didn’t slip.