Prologue.
Alicia
The rain dripped down the back of my rain mac, soaking me even more than I already was. I stared down at my shaking hands. Since when had I become such a doormat? When had I lost myself and everything that meant something?
My reflection gazed back at me from a shop’s window near the courthouse. Who the hell was that bland woman? I didn’t recognise myself. A pair of smart trousers, classy yet plain, a silk beige blouse under the rain mac and a low pair of heels. Understated clothes suitable for a woman twice my age. I was thirty, not freaking sixty.
My hair was cut into a sleek, shoulder-length style, my unruly curls tamed. Where was the girl with fire and spirit inside her? Could she be resurrected, or had my now ex-husband and his mistress beaten that out of me? Oh, Eve wasn’t totally to blame. Sure, she’d spread her legs for Oliver, but Oliver had worn me down first.
I was the perfect socialite: polite, well-spoken, bland, and the model housewife. And like most of my kind, I’d been tossed aside for a woman nine years younger. Shit, I was deemed ‘pastit’ at. I bit the inside of my lip. Was I going to let Oliver and Eve escape scot-free?
The reflection in front of me shifted. Two hours ago, I’d been Mrs Alicia Kensington. Now I was back to Miss Alicia Rosewood.
I heard laughter and turned my head. Oliver and Eve were exiting the courthouse. I’d overheard them as we left the courtroom; they were going to apply for a marriage licence. Looked like they’d got it, judging by the excitement Eve was displaying.
Oliver was holding Eve’s hand; he’d never done that with me. It wasn’t the accepted thing in our circles. Expressing affection was simply unacceptable. Whatever! Oliver didn’t seem to mind showing it to Eve.
Oliver had no idea what he’d thrown away for a pretty face. Alicia Kensington had secrets, secrets that were now Alicia Rosewood’s. Oliver Kensington had made a serious mistake, because the secret I held would ruin him. Oliver may have done his best to destroy my former self, but I remained. I just had to shrug off the boundaries, rules, and shackles he’d placed on me.
Was I brave enough? Hell yeah. I’d already proved that with my secret.
As the rain poured down, I saw a flash of fire in my eyes. My shoulders straightened, and a smile crossed my lips. My hair started curling at the ends, and there she was, my former self. A laugh escaped, and I felt freer than I’d been in a decade—before I got trapped and bogged down. I laughed again and spun in a circle, my arms outstretched as I upturned my face to the downpour.
Alicia Rosewood was going to make a statement, and it would be a hell of one.
The Observer
I’d come today to witness a travesty. Oliver Kensington was divorcing the perfect wife for some cheap whore of a secretary. What a damn fool.
I’d watched as he’d moulded Alicia into what he wanted, but not what she deserved. As Alicia stood there in the rain, I longed to rush over and save her. However, Alicia didn’t need a man to rescue her. Just herself, and as Alicia twirled in a circle, celebrating her divorce, I knew I just had to wait. The woman I loved would find her feet again and, with a little help from me, Alicia would enjoy her freedom once more.
Chapter One.
Oliver
“Defo going to ask her out,” Devon gloated. “She smiled at me today.”
My head turned. Who was Devon talking about?
“Who?” I demanded.
Devon sneered and taunted, “Alicia Rosewood, the girl blossomed over the summer.”
“Touch Alicia, and I’ll kill you. Liss isn’t a normal cheerleader,” I replied as anger rose quickly.
“What’s it matter to you? You’re banging Carmelle,” Devon retorted. Several of our teammates hissed. Devon was pushing buttons on purpose.
“Dude, Liss is off-limits,” I stated calmly. However, I was anything but calm. Nobody would touch Alicia Rosewood. Liss was mine.
“Dude, you can’t stop Devon from asking Alicia out when you’re with Carmelle. And Alicia’s ripe to be plucked,” Sam joined in. “Those tits and that ass—a real handful. Sweet sixteen actually meant something for Alicia; she bloomed!”
I saw red. Temper flaring; I shoved past my teammates, who shouted in alarm, and slammed my fist into Sam’s smirking face. Shouts erupted as I pummelled Sam and then went after Devon.
“Nobody. Fucking. Touches. Alicia.” I spat with each punch.
Hands grabbed and hauled me off, but I kept trying to get free. Coach yanked me away as I bellowed threats at Sam and Devon. Fuck them.
I grinned when I saw the marks the punches had left. Today, everyone learned a lesson. Alicia Rosewood was off-limits.
