Chapter 5

I said it quietly, but every word was clear.

Gabriel froze for a moment. As far as I could remember, it was the first time since the day we met that I had ever questioned him.

"Gabe... it hurts so much..." Right on cue, Vivian whimpered in his arms, clutching the lapel of his suit.

Gabriel looked away and didn't spare me another glance.

"Thomas, call an ambulance. The private hospital." He strode toward the doors. "As for her... she can stay here and think about what she's done. She can leave once she's figured it out."

Friends and relatives gave me a wide berth like I had the plague and streamed out after Gabriel.

As my mother passed, she shot me a vicious glare. "You stupid girl. If Gabe throws you out after this, you'll be worth less than a stray dog!"

The doors swung shut, and the heavy bronze lock clicked into place.

The huge banquet hall held nothing but cold leftovers and broken china.

A waiter handed me a hot towel, his face full of sympathy. "Ma'am, your foot is bleeding. Can I call a car to take you to a clinic?"

"No, thank you."

I took the towel and wiped the blood off the top of my foot.

The cut was deep and gaping, and every step sent pain shooting through me. But I kept my back straight and walked out of the restaurant one step at a time.

Outside, the first cold rain of fall had started.

The streets were jammed with traffic, and there wasn't a single empty cab.

I pulled my soaked trench coat tighter and walked out into the rain.

The rain washed over the cut until I could barely feel it. Two blocks later, I walked into a 24-hour drugstore and bought a roll of gauze and a bottle of iodine.

I sat down on a plastic chair by the window and poured the iodine on the cut myself.

The sting was so sharp I shook all over. Sweat beaded on my forehead.

I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood, but I didn't shed a single tear.

The phone in my bag suddenly rang.

It was an international number.

"Hello, is this Ms. Vera Linden?" The person on the other end spoke in crisp, fluent German. "This is the international office at the Zurich Federal Academy of Art. We see your visa has been issued, but your flight confirmation hasn't been uploaded to our system yet. Have your travel plans changed?"

I looked out at the neon signs blurring in the rain and answered quietly.

"Nothing has changed.

"I'll be on the 7:20 flight tomorrow morning."

After I hung up, I pulled out the SIM card and tossed it in the drugstore's trash can.

Then I limped off into the night.

...

Third-person POV:

It was one a.m. in a VIP suite at the private hospital.

Vivian had only a mild soft-tissue bruise on her ankle. She didn't even need a cast. She'd taken a painkiller and, while Gabriel soothed her, fallen fast asleep.

Gabriel stepped out of the room and rubbed his throbbing temples.

Thomas hurried out of the elevator holding a freshly printed ER report and another document.

"Sir, we got the security footage from the Santo Domingo." Thomas's voice was tight as he handed over his tablet.

On the screen, Vivian deliberately tipped her glass outward. Then she pushed off the cart and threw herself backward.

Vera, across from her, had kept both hands in the pockets of her trench coat the entire time. She never touched her at all.

Gabriel stared at the screen and went very still.

"And..." Thomas swallowed, his voice so low it was almost inaudible. "The housekeeper at the West Side apartment just called. Ms. Linden never showed up there tonight."

For no reason he could name, Gabriel's heart skipped a beat.

A sharp irritation rose in him. He took out his personal phone and quickly dialed the number he knew by heart.

[We're sorry. The person you are calling is currently unavailable.]

The cold, robotic female voice sounded especially harsh in the silent hallway.

Gabriel's grip tightened on the phone, and his brows drew together. "Unavailable? Did she take out her SIM card?"

He took a deep breath, pushed down the sudden panic, and turned to Thomas. "Check every credit card in her name and find out which hotel she's at. Order a bouquet of those pale pink roses she likes and have them sent to her room first thing tomorrow."

Thomas stood where he was and didn't move.

"What are you standing there for?" Gabriel's voice went cold.

His hand shaking, Thomas held out the other document.

"Sir... there aren't any charges to find. But half an hour ago, one of our airport contacts flagged a last-minute international departure under her passport number.

"The Zurich Federal Academy of Art just posted this year's list of fully funded scholars on its official website.

"Ms. Linden's name is at the top.

"Her flight is... the 7:20 this morning. To Zurich, Switzerland. It's a five-year appointment, and she can't request a transfer."

Thomas watched the color drain from Gabriel's face and spoke quietly.

"Sir, Ms. Linden... she's walked away from your marriage for good."