Chapter 5

Sarah's POV:

Even Howard drew a sharp breath.

"Ms. Bellini, isn't that a little too dangerous?"

Rachel nudged Marcus's shoulder, all sweetness.

"Honey, you're the gun expert. What do you think?"

Marcus turned to me. "Rachel just wants to play a game with you. She won't hurt you. I'll have Tony, who runs the range, and his security team watch the whole time."

Watching them cuddle on the couch, I felt as if they were the real family and I was the outsider.

At that moment, I was just glad my lawyer's latest email had come through.

I handed him a document.

"I'll agree to the game. But since you swear nothing will happen, why don't you sign this safety agreement?"

From his expression, I could tell he thought it was ridiculous.

I flipped the document to the last page and handed him a pen.

He stared at me for two seconds, then took the pen with a sigh and quickly signed his name.

"Satisfied?"

I took the document back and exhaled in relief.

What he didn't know was that the last page of that safety agreement belonged to our divorce papers.

The next day, as agreed, Rachel and I went to the shooting range on Long Island.

The staff tied my hands and feet to the center of the target.

I couldn't stop shaking.

Bang!

Rachel's first bullet passed right under my arm.

Cold sweat soaked my hair. I kept telling myself the same thing.

It's okay, Sarah. After today, you'll be free for good.

Rachel's soft laugh carried across the range.

"Don't be so nervous, Sarah. Didn't you grow up in a mafia family? It's just a gun."

Then she had someone blindfold her and lifted the gun with a laugh.

"Relax. I'm not like her. I'm just a scaredy-cat civilian. I'm not interested in having anyone's blood on my hands."

After the next shot, pain like a red-hot knife sliced across my left hand.

A bullet had grazed my ring finger.

Rachel pulled off the blindfold. When she saw the blood, she looked even more pleased.

"Looks like it's my lucky day."

By the time Tony ran over, she'd already handed the gun off to someone else. She shrugged.

"Don't look at me like that. I didn't kill her."

She walked up and looked at my wounded hand. Of all my fingers, she'd hit the one with my wedding ring.

"Go on home, Sarah. The bracelet's yours."

I looked down at my wedding ring, stained red with blood.

My marriage had started with this ring.

It felt right to end it here too.

Perfect, really.

The driver took me back to the estate. I patched up the wound, then carried the black jewelry box holding the Midnight Garden into the guest room.

I packed what I needed in a little over ten minutes.

Passport.

Bank cards.

A few letters my mother had left me.

I bought a ticket for the next flight to Sydney.

After I boarded and buckled my seat belt, a message came in from my lawyer.

"The paperwork is in order. Marcus DeLuca's signature is valid. I'll handle the rest."

I smiled, satisfied, and switched my phone to airplane mode.

Goodbye to my marriage and all its lies and betrayal.