Chapter 3

I snapped the suitcase shut. I turned to face him.

"The charity gala next week..."

I started to explain. He cut me off, impatient.

"Forget it. You're running away again, is that it? Run away again. See if I come looking for you this time."

The words died in my throat.

Fine. He didn't care anyway.

He'd find out everything when I was gone.

My hands tightened on my dress. I made up an excuse.

"I'm just getting my dress ready for the gala."

His expression softened a little.

"Whatever. Get some rest."

Then he turned and left.

I knew I'd be sleeping alone. Again.

The next morning, the roar of an engine woke me up.

I looked out the window. Gwen was helping Eliza into his Maserati.

Eliza wore a white dress. Her smile was sweet. They looked like lovers heading out on a date.

Where were they going? I pulled out my phone. It didn't take long to find out.

My social media feed was a flood of their pictures.

"Falcone Don Spotted in Beverly Hills with Late Brother's Widow."

"A Devoted Brother-in-Law, A Bond Forged in Tragedy."

"Gwen Falcone Personally Shops for Sister-in-Law, A Touching Display of Familial Love."

In the photos, Gwen was gently fastening a diamond necklace around Eliza's neck.

Eliza gazed up at him. Her eyes were full of adoration. Dependence.

They looked like a real couple.

I turned off my phone. I felt sick.

All of Chicago was talking about their "special bond." And me, his actual wife? I was just an outsider.

At dinner, Gwen and Eliza laughed. They talked about their day.

"That sapphire bracelet looked good on you," Gwen said, cutting his steak. His voice was gentle. "I'll have it sent to your room tomorrow."

"Gwen, you're too good to me." Eliza demurred. "I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"You don't have to." Gwen's voice held a tenderness I'd never heard. "Taking care of you is my duty."

I put down my fork. "I'm done."

I went back to the study, trying to clear my head, to make my final plans for Paris.

But the sight that met me made my world crumble.

The "Star Map"—our Star Map—had been torn from the wall. The frame's glass lay shattered across the floor.

The canvas, the one that held all our memories, was slashed to ribbons.

The glowing dots, our moments of love, were now just shredded fragments.

It was the love poem I wrote him in the only language I truly knew. It was our proof. And now it was destroyed.

Rage burned through me.

I stormed out of the study and stalked toward Eliza's room.

"Eliza!" I threw her door open. "Get out here!"

She was at her vanity, removing her makeup. She put on a mask of terror when she saw me.

"Flora? What are you doing?"

"You did it, didn't you?" I advanced on her, my fists clenched. "The painting in the study!"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Eliza scrambled backward, her voice trembling. "I was with Gwen all day—"

"Don't play dumb with me!" I grabbed her arm, my fingers digging into her flesh. "Who else would do something like this?"

"You're insane!" Eliza ripped her arm away and stumbled back, collapsing onto the floor. "Gwen! Help me, Gwen!"

Her shriek tore through the quiet manor.

Gwen burst in seconds later.

All he saw was Eliza on the floor. His eyes went black with rage.

"Flora!" He shoved me, hard. I slammed into the wall, a sharp pain shooting up my back.

He knelt, his voice suddenly gentle—sickeningly so. "Are you okay? Did she hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Eliza whimpered, melting into his arms. "She said I destroyed the painting in the study, but I was with you... how could I—"

"Enough." Gwen stood up and turned to me, his voice like ice. "Flora, your jealousy has driven you mad."

"Jealousy?" I stared at him, incredulous. "Gwen, that was a gift from our wedding! It represented our entire past! Someone destroyed it on purpose!"

"An accident," Gwen said, his voice flat. "The maid probably knocked it over while cleaning."

An accident.

I looked at him, the man who once promised to protect me for life.

All it took was a single tear from Eliza, and Gwen's heart would melt.

I'd seen this play before. A dozen times over the past year.

Ever since I caught her with Marco, she had done everything in her power to drive a wedge between us, to push me out of this house.

Now, I was done explaining.

But later that night, Gwen knocked on my door.

"The macarons you like. I got them in Beverly Hills today."

He shoved the elegant box into my hands. For a second, his cold expression looked almost... awkward.

"About today... just let it go. She didn't mean it."

He paused, then delivered the final blow.

"And one more thing. For the change of command at the foundation to be official... I need your signature on the waiver."

He slid a document from his pocket.

"The one voluntarily relinquishing your claim."

The hint of a smile on my face died.

So that was it. His little peace offering. It was all for Eliza.

"Fine."

I nodded.

I signed my name on his paper. Then I pulled out a stack of business contracts. My signed divorce papers were hidden inside.

"In exchange, you sign these."

He didn't even look. He just smiled, satisfied. He probably thought it was me asking for money. A little compensation. "See? Why couldn't you have been this agreeable before? Why fight with Eliza over everything?"

He signed them. Then he left.

I threw the box of macarons in the trash. Right where they belonged.

Along with the last shred of hope I had for him.

The day before I left, I asked Gwen to come home early. I told him I was making dinner.

One last meal. A farewell dinner.

I cooked all his favorites. Risotto. Beef Bourguignon. Tiramisu.

I set the table with candles. I wore my best black silk dress.

But Gwen never came home.

I called him. No answer.

At ten, I finally broke down and asked the butler. "Where is the Don?"

The butler hesitated. "The Don and Miss Eliza went to Las Vegas, ma'am," he said quietly. "For a limited-run show."

"When was this planned?"

"Two weeks ago, Donna. Don't worry. He'll be back tomorrow afternoon. You'll see him soon."

No, I wouldn't.

I'd be gone by then.

That night, I just stared at the cold food. Memories flashed through my mind.

Finally, I left the signed divorce decree on his desk.

The next morning.

I took the tickets my mentor arranged. I boarded a private jet to Paris.

I watched the sky from the window.

By now, Gwen would be home.