Chapter 1

The third year of my marriage to Dominic, he was already sick of the things I asked of him.

Like, I wanted him home for dinner every night. I wanted him to remember our anniversary.

And I wanted him… to keep his distance from his personal assistant, Kayla.

The first time I saw how close they were was in the hallway outside his office. Kayla was on her tiptoes, fixing his tie, her fingertips brushing the collar of his shirt. The space between them was small enough to feel each other's breath. I stood at the corner and suddenly felt ridiculous.

That night we had the biggest fight of our marriage.

"You're too sensitive." He threw his coat onto the couch and frowned. "Kayla is just my assistant."

"An assistant needs to tie your tie for you?"

"She was fixing my image. It's her job."

I took a deep breath. "Dominic, I have one request. Keep your distance from her."

He looked at me, something unreadable and weary in his eyes. "Evelyn, you've changed. You didn't used to be like this."

I changed? I clenched my fingers. Confusion and humiliation churned inside me.

After that fight, Dominic seemed to find his way of punishing me. Every time I showed the slightest displeasure, he'd go to Kayla on purpose. He took her to pick out furniture for a new apartment. He let her sit in the passenger seat while I sat in the back, watching them exchange looks in the rearview mirror. The day I got sick, he left me alone in the Staten Island estate. The housekeeper brought me medicine and water. He took Kayla to a dock party.

I looked out the floor-to-ceiling window and watched him help her out of the car. The wind lifted her skirt. He leaned down and said something. She laughed, bright and easy.

That night, I didn't wait for him to come back. I lay in the empty bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about what he'd said when he proposed three years ago. "Evelyn, I'll always put you first."

Now his first was work. Was Kayla. Was anything but me.

I closed my eyes and thought about our past.

I was the sole heir of the Rosetti family. I'd married Dominic, the illegitimate son of the Marchetti family, without a second thought.

Back then, plenty of people opposed us. My family most of all.

But for love, I didn't care.

Three years married. Dominic said he had no resources, so I handed him my channels without reservation. He said he had no connections, so I brought him to galas and took him to visit one powerful figure after another. He said he lacked opportunities, so I convinced my father to put the businesses and casinos under his management.

And he repaid me by deliberately provoking me to keep me in line, pulling me close and pushing me away.

Not to mention now he had a scheming Kayla whispering in his ear.

The first time Kayla came to me alone was at a café. She wore a pale pink knit sweater, long hair over her shoulders, eyes curving when she smiled. She looked harmless.

"Evelyn, don't misunderstand the Don," she said, holding her cup, her tone so sincere it was almost naive. "He only sees me as a colleague. You know how busy he is. He needs someone to help share the load."

I looked at her and said nothing.

"Actually…" She lowered her head like she'd been hesitating a long time. "I think maybe there's a communication problem between you two. The Don really does care about you. He just doesn't know how to express it. Try to understand him more. Don't always try to manage him. Men, you know. They're all afraid of being controlled."

She lifted her head and gave me a docile smile.

I took a sip of my coffee and winced at the bitterness. I thought, she's not here to make peace. She's here to tell me she's figured out Dominic's weak spot. And I'm being replaced, step by step.

What really killed it for me was that evening. I came home early from the gallery, wanting to surprise Dominic. It was the anniversary of the day we met. I walked into the study and heard Kayla's voice through the half-open door.

"Don, just provoke Donna a little more," she said, light and almost playful. "She'll get so scared of losing you, she'll stop trying to control you."

I stood outside the door, waiting for Dominic's response.

A few seconds of silence. Then he said, "You sure?"

"Of course," Kayla laughed. "The more nervous she is about you, the less she dares to manage you. It's strategy. You don't understand women."

And I heard him laugh. He said, "Kayla, I really can't do this without you."

I stood there, the gift box slipping from my fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud. The laughter inside stopped. I turned and left.

I didn't cry. I just suddenly felt that three years of marriage had been one long self-delusion. I thought he cared. I thought he just couldn't express it. I thought if I just waited a little longer, he'd come back.

But he'd already turned me into someone he needed a "strategy" to handle.

I went back to the bedroom and started packing. My phone lit up. A message from Kayla. [Evelyn, did you two make up? I'm so worried about you two.]

I didn't reply.

I heard Dominic's voice downstairs, calling my name, a note of impatience in it. But this time, I didn't run down like before. I looked up at the wedding photo on the wall.

In the photo, he looked at me with a tenderness like warm spring water.

Dominic, I loved you once. But now I know. The you from back then isn't coming back.