My husband introduced another woman as his wife in front of our son, but he had no idea the woman he humiliated was the last person he should have betrayed.

"I'm sorry, ma'am... the chairman's wife is already upstairs. You'll have to leave before security mistakes you for a stalker."

For a full three seconds, I thought the young receptionist had confused me with someone else.

Then she smiled.

Not an apologetic smile.

A pitying one.

The kind reserved for women everyone assumes have already lost.

I looked down at the little boy holding my hand.

My five-year-old son, Noah, was wearing the tiny navy suit we'd picked out together the week before. His dark curls were perfectly combed, and he clutched a small gift box wrapped in blue paper.

Inside was the Father's Day watch he'd spent two months saving his allowance to help buy.

"Daddy's going to love it," he'd whispered all morning.

Now he looked up at me with bright eyes.

"Mom?"

"Why won't they let us see Dad?"

My throat tightened.

Because I didn't have an answer.

Not yet.

It was seven o'clock on a Friday evening.

The annual Blackstone Foundation Charity Gala had transformed the Grand Crescent Hotel in downtown Chicago into one of the city's most exclusive events.

CEOs.

Federal judges.

Professional athletes.

Television anchors.

Every influential name in Illinois seemed to be walking across the red carpet beneath a sea of flashing cameras.

My husband, Andrew Collins, had spent the last six months preparing for tonight.

As Executive Vice President of Blackstone Energy, he had personally invited me.

"I'll meet you inside after the board meeting," he'd said that morning while kissing Noah goodbye.

"Wear the emerald dress."

"It's still my favorite."

He even texted me the ballroom number an hour earlier.

Nothing about tonight suggested anything was wrong.