Chapter 14

Chapter 14

ADRIA

The morning light filtered through the curtains like an accusation, harsh and unforgiving. I woke up alone again—Damien had already left for work, his side of the bed cold and perfectly made, as if he'd never been there at all. Which was probably how he preferred it.

I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, mentally cataloging everything I needed to do today. The list was long, but it felt good to have actual tasks that served my purposes instead of his.

First item: get rid of every gift Damien had ever given me.

I showered quickly, careful around the burns that were already starting to scab over. The pain had dulled to a persistent ache, nothing I couldn't handle. I'd handled worse. I'd handled eighteen months of emotional evisceration—some physical burns were nothing in comparison.

I dressed in one of my bland outfits, pulled my hair back into that awful bun, and went to the closet where I'd stored all of Damien's "gifts" over the past year and a half. Jewelry boxes stacked on a high shelf, each one containing some piece he'd given me for birthdays, anniversaries, or those random moments when he felt like playing the role of generous husband.

I pulled them down one by one, opening each box to assess the contents. A diamond tennis bracelet for our six-month anniversary. Pearl earrings for my birthday. A sapphire pendant for Christmas. None of them my style—they were all expensive, tasteful, and utterly impersonal. The kind of jewelry you'd buy for someone you wanted to impress but didn't actually know.

I'd never worn any of them. Not once.

I gathered them all into a designer handbag he'd bought me—another gift I'd never used—and headed downstairs. Before leaving, I made one more trip to the bedroom and started sorting through my closet, pulling out all the clothes he'd bought me or approved of. The beiges, the grays, the navy blues. The high-necked dresses and shapeless cardigans. The shoes that were sensible instead of stylish.

All of it went into garbage bags that I dragged to the foyer.

I called a courier service using my burner phone. "I need someone to pick up several bags of women's clothing and take them to the nearest donation center."

"How many bags, ma'am?"

I counted. "Eight. Maybe nine."

"We can have someone there within the hour."

"Perfect."

I left the bags by the door and grabbed the jewelry, feeling lighter with each step toward my car. The BMW sat waiting in the garage, ordinary and overlooked—just like I'd been.

The drive to the jewelry district took thirty minutes. I chose a high-end boutique I knew had a reputation for discretion and fair prices. The kind of place that asked no questions as long as the merchandise was legitimate.

A bell chimed as I entered, and an impeccably dressed woman in her fifties looked up from behind the counter.

"Good morning. How can I help you today?"

I set the handbag on the counter and began pulling out boxes. "I'd like to sell these."

Her eyes widened slightly as I opened each box, revealing the glittering contents. "These are all quite lovely. May I ask why you're selling them?"

"They were gifts from someone I no longer wish to remember."

She nodded, understanding flickering across her face. She'd probably heard similar stories a hundred times before. "Let me take a look and I'll make you an offer."

While she examined each piece with a jeweler's loupe, I wandered around the shop, looking at pieces I'd actually want to wear. Bold statement necklaces, stackable rings, earrings with personality. Everything Damien would have hated.

"Well," the woman said after several minutes, "I can offer you forty-eight thousand for the lot."

I did the mental math. Damien had probably spent close to seventy thousand on all of it, but I didn't care about getting full value. I just wanted them gone.

"Deal."

"Wonderful. I'll just need to see some identification and—"

The bell chimed again.

I turned, and my stomach dropped.

Marcus, Kieran, and two other men from Damien's inner circle walked in, deep in conversation. They didn't notice me immediately, too engrossed in whatever they were discussing.

"—telling you, if we can get the Salvadore heiress to invest, we could triple our holdings in six months," Marcus was saying.

"Assuming Damien doesn't screw it up," Kieran replied. "You know how he gets when he's trying too hard."

I turned back to the counter, keeping my head down, hoping they wouldn't recognize me. But of course, Marcus's sharp eyes caught the movement.

"Well, well. Adriana? Is that you?"

Damn it.

I turned slowly, arranging my features into that familiar expression of apologetic surprise. "Oh. Hello, Marcus. Kieran."

They approached, and I could see the curiosity in their eyes as they glanced at the jewelry spread across the counter.

"What brings you here?" Marcus asked, his tone casual but his gaze calculating.

"I needed to pick something up for Damien," I lied smoothly. "A gift. For... an important business meeting."

"How thoughtful," Kieran said, but I could hear the mockery underneath. "I'm sure he'll appreciate whatever you choose. Though between you and me, Damien's not really a jewelry kind of guy."

"Unless it's for Amber," one of the other men added with a laugh.

I felt my jaw tighten but kept my expression neutral. "I just want to do something nice for my husband."

"Of course you do," Marcus said, and there was something almost pitying in his voice. "You're a good wife, Adriana. Very dedicated."

"Though dedication only goes so far," Kieran added. "You know Amber's coming back in a couple days, right? Damien must be thrilled."

The words were designed to hurt, to remind me of my place in Damien's hierarchy of affection. I was supposed to crumble, to show pain, to give them the satisfaction of knowing they'd landed a blow.

Instead, I smiled. "I'm sure he is. First loves are special, aren't they?"