Chapter 2

Inez didn't answer. She just looked at him, then slowly raised a hand to point at her own cheek — red and swollen, the shape of fingers already rising.

Dominic's gaze followed her finger. His brow furrowed — just for a second. Something flickered in his eyes. Then Alona whimpered.

His attention snapped back like a rubber band.

"Dom, let's just go," Alona murmured, her face pale and tear-streaked. "Maybe she didn't mean it... My head hurts." She pressed a hand to her temple, her body swaying slightly.

Dominic's expression tightened. "We're going to the hospital. Now."

He turned back to Inez, pulled out his wallet, and tossed a black card through the open window.

For seven years, that card had always been passed on by his assistant. Tonight was the first time he'd handed it to her himself — like tossing alms to a beggar.

"Call a tow truck and a cab. Send the bill to my assistant." His tone was flat, like he was closing a business deal.

Inez watched the card bounce. A hollow laugh escaped her.

She didn't touch the card. "What about my car?"

"Ethan will handle it." His patience was gone. "Don't call me again."

He turned his back, wrapped an arm around Alona, and helped her into the Bentley.

Inez saw Leo in the back seat — six years old, in a tiny suit. This time he didn't speak. He just turned his face away, as if she was the one who had ruined everything tonight.

Auntie Alona. Those words still rang in her ears. The perfect "Auntie Alona" her son talked about every day. The one who bought him the newest Lego sets, the one who always had time to play.

Dominic shut the car door, cutting off her view. The Bentley pulled away, its tires splashing muddy water across her windshield.

Inez sat alone. The rain kept falling, but she no longer felt the cold. There was only a deep, numbing chill.

She didn't know how long she sat there before her phone rang. Jessica Sullivan, her assistant.

"Inez? Where are you? You missed your evening appointments."

The words barely registered. Right — she was a psychologist. She owned a small, well-regarded clinic in downtown Port Sterling.

"My car broke down," she said, her voice strange and far away. "Handle it for me, Jessica."

She hung up. Staring into the rain-streaked darkness, she realized with sudden, terrifying clarity: in the life she had built, in the family she had married into, there was no place for her.

She didn't use Dominic's money. Her fingers trembling, she ordered a tow truck and an Uber through an app.

While she waited, she scrolled through her photo gallery. It was full of Leo. But in the most recent photos, a smiling, beautiful woman stood beside him. Alona.

She remembered Leo's complaints over the past few months — she was always busy with work, she wasn't as fun as Auntie Alona. Inez had blamed herself, believing she had neglected her son. Now she understood. Someone had been methodically, deliberately, taking her place.

The tow truck arrived. A kind-faced middle-aged man handed her a dry towel without a word.

"Thank you," she whispered. The simple kindness from a stranger almost made her cry.

The Uber drove her through the rainy city — not to the cold, museum-like mansion on the hill she shared with Dominic, but to a small apartment in the heart of downtown. A place she had bought with her own money. Her last refuge.

Inside, she stripped off her wet clothes and stood under the shower, letting the hot water wash away the chill and the humiliation. In the steamed-up mirror, her cheek was still red and swollen. But her eyes were unnervingly calm.

Seven years of self-deceit — wiped away by a single slap.

She dried herself, put on clean pajamas, and sat down at her desk. She opened her laptop, ignored the flood of work emails, and opened a blank document. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long moment. Then she typed two words: DIVORCE AGREEMENT.

She stared at the title. She knew the Reeves family didn't do divorce. Matilda Reeves — the iron-fisted matriarch who ruled the family — would never allow such a scandal. But tonight, Inez didn't care. She just wanted to be free.

A formal document required a lawyer. What she needed right now was a word from Dominic. A confirmation.

She picked up her phone. Her thumb hovered over his contact. Her heart hammered — a frantic, trapped bird. She took a shallow breath and typed a single line.

"Dominic, let's get a divorce."