THE DIVORCE GAMBIT From Dumped Wife to CEO's Forever novel Chapter 2

There was no way Caitlin was going to let that jerk outside get a glimpse of her body. She spun on her heel and headed straight for the bedroom to change.

Inside, the closet was packed with clothes.

But nearly every single item was the same color.

Dull, lifeless gray.

Caitlin's brows drew together in a frown.

Even her neighbor—old Mrs. Whittaker, who was ninety-eight—wouldn't be caught dead wearing head-to-toe gray.

The original Caitlin was only nineteen, in the prime of her youth. What teenage girl didn't love dressing up and feeling pretty? The reason every inch of this wardrobe was draped in gray was because it happened to be Julian's favorite color.

She'd lost herself during this marriage, becoming a puppet, desperately mimicking Julian's tastes and habits.

After rummaging for what felt like forever, Caitlin finally dug out the only white T-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. She slipped them on and walked over to the mirror, studying the girl reflected there.

The girl in the mirror had a lovely figure, her simple white tee showing off an elegant neckline and graceful collarbones. When she smiled, two shallow dimples appeared, making her look just a bit like Caitlin's former self from another life.

But the original Caitlin had grown up with little confidence. Wanting Julian to always see her at her best, she'd painted on heavy makeup every single day: thick foundation masked her features, her eyes ringed by exaggerated black liner that nearly winged up to her temples. The effect was garish, aging her years beyond her actual age—almost painful to look at.

Caitlin considered wiping it all off before heading downstairs, but after a fruitless search for makeup remover, she gave up. She grabbed a jacket from the closet, tossed it over her shoulders, and walked down the stairs with that same overdone makeup still on her face.

**

Four people sat on the living room sofa downstairs.

Julian. His mother, Vida Winslow. His cousin, Veronica Winslow. And Julian's great-uncle, Jesse Chandler.

As soon as Caitlin appeared, Vida shot her a look of pure disdain.

This country girl really was hopeless—no matter how she dressed, she could never look the part. Who wears such heavy makeup at night? She looked more like a ghost than a daughter-in-law. Was she trying to scare someone to death?

To be honest, Vida had never approved of Caitlin, not from the very beginning.

If Jarvis hadn't insisted that Julian marry her, Vida would never have agreed to this match.

Her son was the golden boy of the family, a rising star in the financial world!

And Caitlin? Just a nobody from the sticks who hadn't even finished high school.

In Vida's eyes, Caitlin wasn't even fit to shine Julian's shoes.

Even Julian was caught off guard.

Caitlin had loved him with every fiber of her being—so much that she'd lost herself, even threatening suicide to keep the marriage together.

How could someone who loved him that much agree to a divorce so easily?

Something had to be up.

Maybe there was something wrong with the divorce agreement?

Julian snatched the papers off the table and read through them, word by word.

Twice he checked, but everything was in order.

Caitlin had already signed her name on her page.

What was going on?

Julian turned to glare at Caitlin, his eyes hard, brows knit together in frustration. "Caitlin, what kind of game are you playing now?"

He'd had enough of her drama—he wasn't about to waste another minute on her mind games.