He went still for a moment.
He probably hadn't expected me to know he'd bought the same things for Serena Bellucci.
He recovered quickly.
"Vera, you've got it wrong. I genuinely wanted to make things right, so I had Serena help me pick everything out. When I saw she liked them too, I just grabbed a second set. Don't get upset over something this small, all right?"
Small.
I was so tired of that word.
I reached out and swept the gift boxes off the table in one motion.
"The gifts can come in multiples. So does your love come in multiples too?"
My voice shook, and I couldn't stop it.
"Dante Moretti, the thing I regret most right now is…"
My eyes burned red.
The rest of the words wouldn't come.
But he already understood.
His expression shifted. He stood immediately and closed his hand around my wrist.
"Vera, you have to believe me. You're the only one in my heart. Otherwise I never would have married you. Give me a few more years. Once I've gotten it out of my system, I'll come back to you. I promise."
I looked at him, and all at once the exhaustion hit me like a wall.
Round and round. Always the same hollow, counterfeit promises.
I had no desire to hear another word.
I pulled my hand free. My voice came out flat. Not a single ripple.
"Then we'll wait."
He studied my face as it settled back into calm. He must have thought I'd finally stopped being angry, because his own expression softened a few degrees.
He bent down and gathered the scattered bags from the floor, one by one, and held them out to me.
I knew he hadn't understood what I meant.
But I didn't care enough to explain.
I took the bags and turned for the stairs.
What I was waiting for had never been the day he came to his senses.
What I was waiting for was the end of the thirty-day dissolution period.
My birthday was coming soon.
Don Winslow and Donna Winslow were abroad, but they still remembered. They'd had a jeweled tiara flown in from Europe, something worth a small fortune.
The delivery address was the Moretti family's main office at the shipping company headquarters downtown.
When I got the message, my first instinct was to tell them I'd already signed the dissolution papers with Dante. But they were still traveling, still enjoying themselves, and I didn't want to ruin that. So I held it in.
I drove to Moretti headquarters.
The birthday gift was in Dante's office.
He was in a sit-down with his captains, so I went in alone.
But the moment I pushed the door open, I saw that Serena Bellucci had already torn away the outer wrapping.
That dazzling tiara was sitting on her head.
When she saw me, a flash of panic crossed her face. Then the mask dropped into place: wide eyes, trembling chin, the frightened little creature she played so well.
"Signora, I didn't expect you…"
I had no patience for her performance. I walked straight to her and reached for the tiara.
"I'm here to collect what's mine."
Something bitter flickered behind Serena's eyes. Jealousy. Resentment.
Her fingers tightened around the tiara and would not let go.
She wanted it that badly?
I was about to release my grip when I saw her deliberately press her finger into one of the sharp points at the crown's peak.
A bead of bright red blood welled up from her fingertip.
The next second she folded onto the leather sofa, whimpering softly, tears already forming.
"Signora, I just thought it was beautiful. I only wanted to admire it for a moment. Why would you do this to me?"
Before I could react, a force slammed into me from behind.
I was shoved hard. My whole body crashed into the edge of the low table. My forehead struck the corner with a crack, and the pain spread instantly, hot blood seeping down from my temple.
My face went white. I sucked in a sharp breath and looked up at Dante, who had just come through the door.
He didn't look at me.
He was already holding Serena's injured hand, disinfecting it with careful, precise movements, pressing a bandage over the tiny cut.
The tenderness in his eyes was something he couldn't hide even if he tried.
And in that moment, I finally understood what scene Serena had just staged.
My body trembling, I pushed myself upright. I bent down and picked up the blood-stained tiara. Then I held it out in front of Serena.
Dante must have thought I was rubbing it in. Anger surfaced in his gaze immediately.
He opened his mouth, but I spoke first.
"You like it? Then it's yours. Take it."
The reaction caught them both off guard.
Serena froze. She forgot to squeeze out the next tear.
Dante's brow knotted tight, as if he couldn't begin to understand what I was thinking.
"That's from my parents. For you."
For me?
No.
It was for the Moretti family's wife.
And very soon, I wouldn't be the Moretti family's wife anymore.
I set the tiara down. My tone was light. Detached.
"I don't keep things that have been bled on. Bad luck. She can have it."
I didn't look back at either of them. I walked out of the office.
Behind me, Dante's gaze stayed fixed on my back. I could feel it. His brow still furrowed, tight as a knot.
After we married, I'd had two habits everyone in our circles knew about.
One was buying property.
The other was collecting jewelry.
So every time I got angry, he'd use one or both to bring me around.
Something like that tiara, a collector's piece worth a fortune, he probably never imagined I would give it away without blinking.
On the night of my birthday, Dante still didn't come home.
At the party, everyone kept asking where he was, whether he'd slipped away to prepare some grand surprise. After all, every year before this one, he had stayed at my side the entire night without stepping away once.
But I didn't care where he was.
I only wanted to enjoy this birthday.
After tonight, I would be twenty-seven.
I was about to step into a completely new life.
So why waste another thought on people and things that belonged to the old one?
I didn't answer their questions. I picked up a bottle of champagne, gave it a slow shake, and popped it open the way you'd set off fireworks.
The wine erupted in a golden arc.
I lifted the bottle, laughing.
"Happy birthday to me."
