Chapter 3

The sound of that key hitting the trash was barely a whisper, but it crushed my entire world.

I stumbled out of the room. Staring at the bracelet I could never take off, the tears finally broke free.

I did not understand how twenty years of love could just vanish.

Caspian and I were neighbors. We were the only light in each other's lives.

My mother was a tyrant. I had no toys, no amusement parks—only endless cello practice and scolding.

It was Caspian who would climb over my balcony late at night when I was crying, sneaking me my favorite chocolates. He beat up the boys who bullied me, snuck me out to have fun, and took the blame when we got caught.

"Do not be scared, Lorelai. I will always protect you."

That was his teenage promise.

We were never apart, except for college. We fell in love naturally and dated for seven years.

On the day he officially took over the Solis syndicate and became the Don of New York's underworld, he got down on one knee and locked me in for life with a diamond ring.

We were the golden couple of New York. I never thought there would be a third person in our marriage.

I first heard Ivy's name a year ago.

Caspian was furious in his study, yelling about a new secretary who almost blew an arms deal with the Europeans. I brought him coffee and asked why he did not just fire the idiot.

Caspian rubbed his temples and sighed. "She is an orphan from a broken home. It is pitiful. I will give her one more chance."

I did not care. The Solis family could afford to feed one more mouth.

But then, things started to shift. He started mentioning her casually.

"Ivy stayed up all night finishing the reports. She actually has potential."

"Ivy is a bit clumsy, but she listens."

The turning point was a month ago.

Caspian got drunk at a syndicate gala. The person who brought him home was not Marco, but Ivy.

Wearing a revealing evening gown, she helped him into the living room. She stared at me without an ounce of respect.

"Mrs. Solis, Caspian has a weak stomach. Do not let him drink so much next time. There is hangover soup in the kitchen, make sure you heat it up for him."

She spoke to me like she was the lady of the house.

I felt sick, but my upbringing kept me from making a scene.

Then, two weeks ago, I had the most important performance of my life—a solo at Carnegie Hall. Caspian promised he would be in the front row, dead center.

That seat stayed empty all night.

After the show, I called him frantically. At 2 AM, someone finally answered.

"Caspian, where are you?" I asked anxiously.

Instead, Ivy's lazy voice came through. "Mrs. Solis, Caspian was dealing with an emergency and fell asleep. Please do not disturb him."

"Where are you?!" I demanded.

BEEP. BEEP. She hung up.

I later found out they spent the night at one of the syndicate's safe houses.

I lost my mind and fought with him. He swore he was just tired and nothing happened, promising to keep his distance. Under my pressure, he fired her.

I thought the nightmare was over.

Until today, three hours before his accident. I was using his iPad to read the news when a text popped up.

Sender: Ivy.

"I really need to see you. Please."

That was the spark that ignited our worst fight.