Chapter 4

Bianca's face went rigid. Then she slipped into her wounded-bird act.

"Scarlett, how could you say that?" Her eyes welled with tears as she looked pitifully at Nico. "I just wanted to be friends..."

Nico slammed his glass down, his face dark.

"Scarlett, remember your place." His voice was a warning. "Bianca is a guest here."

I laughed softly and gracefully wiped my mouth with a napkin.

"I wish Bianca the best in her career," I said smoothly. "After all, she did a great job using my ideas."

Bianca turned pale.

"Remember the Chicago International Art Fest I planned three years ago?" I continued. "Nico vetoed it because it was 'too risky'. Funny how all those core concepts are in Bianca's project now."

The air at the table turned razor-sharp.

"Just a coincidence," Nico said coldly. "The art world is small. Ideas overlap."

I nodded and pushed away from the table.

"Of course. But I won't let my talent be compromised anymore."

At the stairs, I looked back.

"After all, an original is always worth more than a cheap knockoff, right?"

Back in my room, I had barely shut the door when footsteps approached.

Bianca pushed her way in.

"You think you're so smart, don't you?" The sweet girl act vanished. Her face twisted into a venomous sneer. "Let me tell you a secret."

She walked right up to me and hissed like a snake.

"That first night? Nico and I fucked in your study until dawn. We did it right on top of your precious Venice Biennale blueprints."

My fingers twitched.

"He said my tits are bigger and I'm a better lay." She sneered. "And watching you get played for a fool by those brothers the next morning? It was hilarious."

I scoffed.

"And how do you know it was Nico fucking you? How do you know it wasn't Marco?"

Bianca's face twisted.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"They're identical twins. In the dark, can you really tell?" I tilted my head, smirking. "Maybe you're just flattering yourself."

The thought made her snap. She bolted for the banister in the hallway.

"You pushed me!" She grabbed the railing, pretending to lose her balance.

I saw it coming. I took two steps back and crossed my arms.

"Really? The falling-down-the-stairs act again?" I looked at her, bored. "You used that one yesterday. Get some new material."

Seeing I wasn't falling for it, her face morphed into something ugly.

"Scarlett, you just wait," she gritted her teeth. "Tomorrow, I'll make you face reality."

The next morning, I was packing for the old house when Nico walked in.

He brought a diffuser and carefully lit it.

"Lavender," he said softly. "Your favorite."

That long-lost tenderness made my chest tighten.

"If you feel sick at the fitting, tell me immediately." He sat on the bed and stroked my hair, just like he did when we were newlyweds five years ago. "That couture dress is heavy, I know. But bear with it for me, my beautiful bride."

Those soulful eyes, the deep concern... it almost gave me a false sense of hope.

Maybe he still loved me?

Maybe this was all a misunderstanding?

I almost believed the man in front of me was still the Nico who swore to protect me for life.

But when we walked out to the courtyard, reality slapped me in the face.

Bianca was already sitting in the passenger seat of his bulletproof SUV.

Dressed in a white suit, she looked entirely in her element. Like the lady of the house.

"I'm sorry, I feel dizzy." She leaned back weakly. "The doctor said I have lingering symptoms from nearly drowning. I need to sit in the front for air."

Nico instantly rushed to check on her.

"It's fine, Scarlett can sit in the back."

He turned to me, not a drop of guilt in his eyes.

I stood there, my blood running cold.

He knew.

He knew I get claustrophobic. He knew sitting in the back of that armored cage would make me sick.

He chose Bianca anyway.

The sweetness from earlier was just a routine show.

That tiny spark of warmth in my heart turned to ash.

"No need." I gave a polite smile. "The back is too cramped. I'll take a cab."

"Scarlett..." Nico frowned. His hand stopped mid-air, like he wanted to pull me in.

"Nico, let's go." Bianca whined, tugging his sleeve. "I really don't feel good."

He looked at me, then at the pathetic Bianca.

In the end, he chose her.

"Be careful then." He threw me a half-hearted warning and got in.

Through the window, past Bianca, he gave me a deep look, full of some complicated emotion I couldn't read.

But then he hit the gas and drove off.

I stood in the empty driveway, watching the car disappear down the street.

My last bit of love for him vanished with it.

Nico Russo, from today on, we are completely done.