chapter 5

Then his phone buzzed again.

"Shit," he muttered, scribbling his signature without even looking at the document title. "She needs me there now."

"All done," he said, standing and straightening his shirt. "Thank you for handling all this business stuff, baby. You're so much better at it than I am."

He leaned down to kiss my forehead, and I let him. *The last kiss from my husband,* I thought. *How fitting that it's a lie too.*

"Drive safe," I whispered.

"I love you," he said, already moving toward the door.

After he left, I sat staring at the signed documents for a long time. It was over. Just like that.

I felt hollow, like someone had scooped out everything inside me and left only an empty shell.

Matteo didn't come back that night.

The next morning, I placed the divorce agreement on our bedside table before I left.

I pack a small bag. Just the basics, some clothes, my laptop, my passport for Germany. Everything else could stay. I didn't want any reminders of this life.

As I was leaving, I caught sight of my bare left hand. No wedding ring, no engagement ring.

*He hasn't even noticed I took them off,* I realized. *Four days, and he hasn't noticed his wife isn't wearing her wedding ring.*

I shook my head, shouldering my bag. "Pathetic," I murmured to the empty room.

*Goodbye, Matteo.*

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in my parents' living room, sliding the signed papers across their table.

"It's done," I said simply.

My father picked up the agreement, his jaw tightening as he read Matteo's signature.

My mother wrapped her arms around me. "Oh, sweetheart."

"I need you to handle everything from here," I said, pulling away gently. "File it with the court, whatever needs to be done. I don't want to deal with him anymore."

"Of course," my father said. "We'll take care of everything."

I should have felt relief. Satisfaction. Something. Instead, I just felt empty.

My phone buzzed, startling me out of my thoughts. New message from an unknown number.

*Don't open it,* my brain warned me. *Nothing good ever comes from mysterious messages.*

But I opened it anyway.

The first thing I saw made me drop the phone.

It was a video. Matteo and Calista in what looked like his office, her bent over his desk while he—

I grabbed the phone and ran to my old bedroom, slamming the door behind me. My hands were shaking as I stared at the screen.

There were more files. Video after video of them together. In hotel rooms. In his office. In cars. And worst of all, in our bedroom. Our bed.

I watched my husband with his adopted sister in positions I'd never even imagined, heard him say things to her he'd never said to me.

*Why is someone sending me this?* But I already knew. Only one person would want me to see this level of detail.

*Calista.*

The videos were followed by a single photo, a medical document. Pregnancy test results. Positive. Two months along.

I stared at the screen until the letters blurred together. Two months. While I'd been taking folic acid and planning our future, she'd been carrying his child.

I started laughing. I couldn't help it. The sound was high and hysterical, and I couldn't make it stop.

*This is insane. This whole situation is completely insane.*

My phone buzzed again. A text from the same number: *"Hope you enjoyed the show, sister. Some of us know how to keep a man satisfied."*

The laughter died in my throat. I stared at that message for a long moment.

I saved every photo, every video, every piece of evidence to a secure folder. Then I forwarded everything to my father with a simple message: *"Add these to the collection."*

His response came immediately: *"Jesus Christ. I'm so sorry, sweetheart. We'll make him pay for this."*

I typed back: *"The anniversary party is in three days. I've arranged for reporters to be there. When everyone arrives, please have someone project all the videos and photos we've collected. I want everyone to see what kind of man Matteo really is."*

*"Consider it done. Are you sure you're ready for this?"*

I looked at my reflection in the black phone screen.

*"I'm ready."*

Another message from Matteo popped up: *"Working late tonight. Don't wait up. Love you."*

I almost laughed again.

I texted back: *"No problem. I'm staying at my parents' house for a few days anyway. Miss you too."*