Chapter 2 The Million Dollar Bet

# Chapter 2 – The Million Dollar Bet

The morning after my livestream disaster, I woke up on the uncomfortable sofa in my home office. Daniel had locked the bedroom door—a petty move that matched his character perfectly. My phone showed 47 missed calls, 200+ text messages, and thousands of notifications across my social platforms. The top trending topic on Twitter: #LilliansRevenge.

I silenced my phone and made coffee, moving through our penthouse with the eerie calm that comes after catastrophe. The apartment felt different now, like a stage set rather than a home. Maybe it always had been.

As I sipped my coffee by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Boston Harbor, the intercom buzzed. The doorman's voice crackled through the speaker: "Mrs. Rhodes, there's a Ms. Vivian Carter insisting on seeing you. Should I send her up?"

My stomach clenched at her name. "Yes, James. Send her up."

I needed to face her eventually. Might as well be now, while Daniel was still asleep.

When the elevator doors opened, Vivian stood there looking nothing like the confident beauty who had been my best friend since sophomore year of college. Her eyes were puffy, mascara smudged beneath them. She wore the same clothes as last night.

"Lil, please," she started, her voice breaking. "I need to explain."

I gestured for her to sit at the kitchen island while I remained standing. Power positions, as Daniel would say.

"Explain what, exactly? How you ended up with your tongue down my husband's throat? I'm fascinated to hear the logistics."

She flinched. "That day was—it was an accident. I came over to drop off those event photos, and Daniel was upset about something with his mother. We had a drink, and I... I'd had feelings for him before you two met, and—"

"Stop," I cut her off. "Before I met him? You were dating Jason when I met Daniel."

"I know, I just—"

"How long has this been going on?"

Vivian stared at her hands. "Three months."

The betrayal felt fresh again, a knife twisting deeper. Three months of dinners together, brunches where she asked about my marriage, offering sympathetic nods when I confided my concerns about Daniel's increasing distance.

"That night was a mistake," she continued desperately. "I was drunk and—"

"That night wasn't your first mistake, Viv. That night was just the first time you got caught." I leaned forward. "And tell me, before you got drunk, who took off your underwear? Was that an accident too?"

Her face crumpled. "I'm so sorry. I never meant—"

"Get out," I said quietly. "And don't contact me again."

After she left, I showered, dressed in my most expensive suit, and applied makeup with surgical precision. I was halfway through blow-drying my hair when Daniel finally emerged from the bedroom.

"Playing the victim for your followers?" he sneered, gesturing to my phone, which was set up to record my morning routine—a habit from my influencer days that I'd maintained even after marrying into the Rhodes empire.

"Not everything is about you, Daniel." I switched off the dryer. "Though I'm sure your ego finds that hard to believe."

He opened the refrigerator, then slammed it shut without taking anything. "I spoke with my mother this morning. She's calling an emergency board meeting."

Of course she was. Cynthia Rhodes never allowed a crisis to pass without maximizing her advantage.

"And?" I kept my tone disinterested.

"And she wants you there." His eyes narrowed. "Care to tell me why?"

I shrugged, applying a final coat of lipstick. "Perhaps to discuss damage control for your indiscretions?"

"Cut the act, Lillian." He stepped closer, blocking my exit from the bathroom. "Three million dollars. That's what my mother paid you to test my fidelity. A sick little game to prove I'm 'worthy' of the Rhodes inheritance."

So he knew more than I thought. I maintained my composure, though internally I was recalculating my strategy.

"Your mother has always had... unconventional methods of assessing character," I replied carefully.

"And you went along with it!" His voice rose. "What kind of wife agrees to set up her husband?"

"The kind whose husband has a history of infidelity." I met his gaze steadily. "Cynthia told me about your past relationships, Daniel. How they all ended the same way. She wanted to protect the company from another scandal."

"So you married me knowing you'd eventually test me like some lab rat?" His disgust seemed genuine. "Was any of it real?"

For a moment, I remembered our early days—the weekend trips to Nantucket, the way he'd bring me coffee in bed every morning, how he'd supported my channel when his mother dismissed it as "frivolous." There had been love there, once.

"I married you because I loved you," I said quietly. "The agreement with your mother came later, after I noticed the late nights, the mysterious texts, the way you pulled away."

"You could have talked to me!"

"I tried! You dismissed my concerns every time."

Daniel ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that once made my heart flutter. "You pressured me into trying for a baby, started tracking my schedule... it felt like you were looking for reasons to doubt me."

"And clearly I was right to doubt you," I shot back.

His expression hardened. "You never trusted me. This proves it."

"And you never deserved my trust. Last night proves that."

We stood in silence, the bathroom suddenly too small to contain the wreckage of our relationship.

"You know what I think?" Daniel finally said. "You pressure me about having a baby, you take money from my mother to 'test' me, you 'accidentally' catch me on camera... you've been planning this from the start."

"Planning what?"

"To take control of the company." His eyes were cold. "You want Rhodes Enterprises for yourself. You and my mother cooked this up together—get me to fail the fidelity test, use the scandal to push me out, and install you as the public face of the company."

I almost laughed at how close yet so far from the truth he was.

"You're paranoid," I said, though he wasn't entirely wrong. "I wanted our marriage to work, Daniel. You're the one who destroyed it."

My phone buzzed with a text from an unlisted number: *Meeting in 30. Car waiting downstairs.*

I gathered my purse. "I need to go."

"To meet your co-conspirator?" His bitter laugh followed me down the hallway. "Tell my mother I said hello."

At the door, I paused. "You know, Daniel, you keep accusing me of plotting against you, of wanting to ruin your reputation and steal your inheritance. But I never forced you into Vivian's arms. That choice was entirely yours."

Before he could respond, I added, "Oh, and I've scheduled a call with my lawyer this afternoon. I'll have my things moved out by the weekend."

In the elevator down to the lobby, I finally allowed myself to breathe. Daniel was right about one thing—I had been working with his mother. But not in the way he imagined.

The sleek black town car was waiting as promised. As I slid into the backseat, the other passenger turned to face me.

"Well, that was quite a show last night," Cynthia Rhodes said, her silver hair immaculately styled despite the early hour. "Not exactly how we planned to execute phase one, but effective nonetheless."

"He knows about the money," I said.

She waved dismissively. "A minor complication. The board was already concerned about Daniel's... impulse control. This incident merely confirms their doubts."

"And Vivian? Was she part of your plan too?"

Cynthia's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Vivian has her role to play, just like everyone else. Including you, my dear."

As the car pulled away from my soon-to-be-former home, I wondered—not for the first time—if I had made a deal with the devil. But it was too late for second thoughts.

The game was in motion, and I intended to win.