Chapter 1 - The Ring on the Marble
The heavy front door of the penthouse clicked shut, but the silence it left behind was louder than a gunshot.
Alexander stood in the center of the foyer, his expensive tailored coat hanging open, while Sophia sniffled softly behind his shoulder.
His eyes were locked on mine, waiting for the familiar surrender, the bowed head, and the quiet apology that had kept our marriage alive for seven agonizing years.
I didn't blink.
I reached down to my left hand, twisted the platinum band set with five carats of flawless diamonds, and pulled it free from my skin.
The ring made a sharp, clean sound as I dropped it onto the cold marble floor at Alexander’s feet.
"Claire, pick that up," Alexander ordered, his tone darkening into the lethal growl that made Chicago politicians tremble.
"You don't make scenes in this house. You don't disrespect me, and you certainly don't throw away my name."
"Your name died the second you let my mother slip away without saying goodbye, Alexander," I said, my voice steady and empty of all warmth.
"From this second on, you don't exist to me. Ethan, go to your room and grab your backpack."
Ethan turned on his heel without hesitating, ignoring his father completely.
Alexander took a menacing step toward me, but before he could reach out, Sophia tugged his sleeve with theatrical fragility.
"Alex, let her go... she's clearly hysterical and trying to hurt your reputation," she whispered, dabbing at her dry cheeks with a silk tissue.
Alexander looked between his crying mistress and his stone-faced wife, his pride wounded by the cold indifference in my stare.
"You think you can just walk out of the Moretti household, Claire?" he sneered, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You have no family left. You have no credit cards that don't run through my accounting firms. You will be back on your knees by midnight."
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"Don't wait up for me," I replied quietly.
"Because dead men don't receive visitors."
