Chapter 3

No accusations. No questions. Just a calm statement of fact. She hit send.

Then she flipped the phone face down on the desk, as if it were a venomous snake. She walked to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and forced herself to drink it slowly.

Don't look. Don't think.

One minute. Five. Ten.

The phone stayed dark and silent, as if it were dead.

A bitter smile touched her lips. He'd probably seen it and couldn't be bothered to reply.

Just as she was about to give up and go to bed, the screen lit up.

Her heart leaped into her throat. She walked back to the desk and picked it up.

A new message from Dominic Reeves.

A single word.

"Fine."

No question mark. No explanation. Not even a period — just a cold, dismissive agreement to end their seven-year marriage, like approving an insignificant line item on a budget report.

Inez stared at the word. Fine.

And then a strange feeling washed over her.

Relief.

This clean, sharp cut was better than any messy, drawn-out fight. It was over.

The next day was clear. Inez went to her clinic as usual, moving through the day as if the night before had been nothing but a bad dream.

Her assistant Jessica watched her with worried eyes, her gaze lingering on the faint bruise on Inez's cheek.

"I'm fine," Inez said before Jessica could ask. "Walked into a door."

She buried herself in her work, using her patients' problems to numb her own.

Late in the afternoon, a call came from the Reeves estate. Mrs. Miller, the housekeeper, reminding her of the family dinner tonight.

Inez wanted to refuse.

"Mrs. Reeves has specifically requested your presence." Mrs. Miller's tone left no room for argument. Matilda.

Inez hung up, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. It was a dinner she couldn't escape.

When she left the clinic that evening, a light drizzle had started. She stood by the curb, but every cab that passed was already taken.

Her phone rang. An unknown number. She answered.

"Inez, do you need me to send a driver?"

The voice was sickly sweet. Alona Zimmerman.

Inez's jaw tightened. "How did you get my number?"

Alona laughed, a light, airy sound that grated on her nerves. "Oh, I don't have it. I'm calling from Dom's phone. He's in the shower and asked me to check for any important messages."

The lie was blatant, possessive.

"I saw your text," Alona continued, her voice dripping with the satisfaction of a victor, "and his reply. 'Fine.' So like him, isn't it? I'm glad you're finally coming to your senses, Inez."

Rage shot through her, hot and sharp. She said nothing and just ended the call.

A silver Porsche 911 pulled up to the curb. The window slid down, revealing a handsome, smirking face.

"Hey, sister-in-law. All alone in the rain? Waiting for my brother to pick you up?"

Dominic's younger brother, Caleb Reeves. A notorious playboy, a close friend of Alona's, and someone who had never bothered to hide his contempt for Inez.

Inez ignored him and turned to walk away.

"Get in," Caleb said, pushing open the passenger door. "I'm heading to the dinner too. My brother... he's probably a little busy right now." The insinuation was clear.

Inez looked at the increasing rain, then at the unresponsive ride-share app on her phone.

With a resigned sigh, she got in.

She would rather accept a ride from the devil she knew than give Dominic another reason to contact her.