Chapter 2

In the middle of the night, I received a few photos.

The lighting was dim and intimate. Soren’s bare, muscular chest was exposed, and Kaelin was curled up against him like a lazy cat.

Her shoulders and collarbone were covered in glaring red marks, a testament to how wild they had been.

It came from an unknown number, but I knew it was her.

Once, Kaelin was my most trusted friend.

Five years ago, when Soren and I first got together, his mafia background put me under a lot of stress.

It was Kaelin who offered, "Maeve, the underworld is too dangerous, and there are too many temptations around him. I’ll keep an eye on him for you."

I actually believed her.

I gave her the privilege of entering our lives.

Under the guise of "looking out for me," she slowly embedded herself into Soren’s inner circle.

But maybe she had her eyes on the Don's wife's seat all along, deciding to throw our friendship away from the start.

The next evening, I did my makeup and drove to a private estate.

It was Madam Rossi’s sixtieth birthday banquet.

She was the widow of the oldest godfather in New York and held immense respect among the families.

I didn't want to attend a mob gathering, but Madam Rossi loved the gown I designed for her, so I had to be there to pay my respects.

The banquet hall was dazzling, filled with glamorous people.

Just as I finished toasting Madam Rossi, the main doors were pushed open.

All eyes in the room instantly shifted.

Soren walked in.

He was wearing a sharp, cold black suit with a dark red silk tie.

And the woman holding onto his arm was Kaelin.

She wore a plunging haute couture gown in the exact same shade of red as his tie—loud and provocative.

She clung to him intimately, as if she were his rightful fiancée.

Well, maybe that wasn't wrong. If she had all the rights of a fiancée, what was the difference between her and the real one? I smiled bitterly at the thought.

The mobsters around me started whispering immediately.

"See that? Soren’s got a new girl."

"I told you, that designer who just draws pictures all day isn't fit for the Don. Kaelin knows the rules."

Their mockery floated right into my ears.

Holding my champagne, I watched coldly as they mingled with the family heads.

A few rounds of drinks later at the main table.

Soren raised his glass, his gaze cutting through the crowd to lock directly onto me in the corner.

He purposely raised his voice.

"I want to toast this glass to Kaelin," his voice echoed through the hall. "Last month, when I had a high fever, she stayed by my side for two whole nights. Only someone this sweet and understanding deserves to stand by my side."

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause.

Kaelin leaned into his shoulder, covering her mouth as she giggled, shooting me a smug look.

My knuckles turned white around my glass.

When he was sick last month, I canceled my meetings for Milan Fashion Week, simmered soup for three hours, and brought it to his bedroom.

He had violently smashed the bowl against the wall.

"Get out and go draw your useless trash! Leave me alone!" That was exactly what he said.

He rejected my care.

And now, he was loudly giving all the credit and praise to Kaelin.

He thought this would hurt me. He thought I’d rush up, smash my glass, and cry about how unfair he was, just like before.

But a thoroughly broken heart just goes numb. I just watched, realizing the pain wasn't nearly as bad as it used to be.

When I got back to my apartment, I opened my laptop and logged into my private cloud photo album.

It held five years of memories with Soren.

I clicked my mouse, ready to wipe it all clean.

But when I saw the recently uploaded photos, I stopped.

Somehow, dozens of photos of Soren and Kaelin had been added.

Looking closer, I found it completely absurd.

These were originally pictures of the three of us, but I had been cropped out, leaving only Kaelin and Soren looking cozy together.

Having your memories invaded is a sickening feeling.

I wiped away a single tear from the corner of my eye and selected every single photo of me and Soren.

"Are you sure you want to permanently delete these files? This action cannot be undone."

The prompt popped up.

I clicked "Confirm" without hesitation.

The progress bar flew. Ten percent, fifty percent, ninety percent.

As it hit a hundred, all the memories that belonged to us were completely shattered.