My husband had no idea I was the anonymous billionaire behind the company he was proudly celebrating that night. To him, I was just his “plain, exhausted” wife who had “lost herself” after giving birth to twins. At his promotion gala, I stood there holding our babies when he pushed me toward the exit.

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Then Theo threw up on my shoulder halfway through the cocktail hour, and everything unraveled from there exactly the way I already told you.

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“What’s wrong with you?” Callum had muttered, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward a quiet corner near the emergency exit, the smell of the back alley’s trash mixing unpleasantly with expensive perfume and someone’s abandoned champagne glass.

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“He threw up, Callum. He’s a baby. You could actually help.”

“Help?” he’d scoffed, looking at me with something considerably colder than I’d ever seen from him before. “I’m the CEO, Olivia. I don’t deal with mess like this. That’s your job. And you’re not even doing it right.”

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He’d tugged at a loose strand of my hair, disgust written plainly across his face. “Look at Renee from marketing. One kid, and she’s still running marathons every weekend. She knows how to take care of herself. Four months later, and you still look exhausted and completely unprepared.”