"This could get messy, Camilla. Leon's a powerful man," Attorney Thompson warned.
"I don't care," I said sharply. "I want those divorce papers drafted and sent to me by the end of the day."
He sighed, knowing better than to challenge me when I'd made up my mind.
"Understood. I'll prioritize it."
"One more thing," I added in a low voice. "Ensure Cara doesn't get a single penny from my grandfather's estate. I want her cut out—no exceptions."
There was a pause before he replied, "We'll explore every legal route, but... she'll fight dirty."
"So will I," I whispered before ending the call.
Hours later, I stood in a crowded government office, hands trembling but determined. Every heartbeat felt like a countdown as my number was called.
"I'd like to request a legal name change," I told the clerk.
She glanced at me briefly and scanned the papers.
"Processing takes five days. Your new passport will be ready in seven."
Then her eyes met mine. "Just so you know, once this goes through, it'll be as if your old name never existed. Are you sure?"
For a heartbeat, I hesitated. Erasing my name meant erasing the girl who once believed in Leon, in love, in family. But that girl was already dead.
"Yes," I said. "That's exactly what I want."
I had just stepped onto the bustling sidewalk, lost in thought, when I saw them. They were outside the gates of The Gilded Lily, a restaurant Leon and I used to go to for every anniversary. Cara was laughing, her hand resting on Leon's arm, her head tilted back in a way I knew was meant to be endearing. My breath caught in a flash of anger that I tried so hard to control.
Cara saw me first. Her smile faltered with a flicker of guilt or triumph crossing her face before she quickly masked her expression with fake concern.
"Camilla! What a surprise. How are you feeling now?" she said.
Leon finally looked up. His sweet affection froze, replaced by a guarded neutrality. He didn't drop his hand from Cara's waist. He didn't even flinch. The lack of reaction cut deep. He was like a stranger.
"I'm perfectly fine, Cara," I said evenly. And met Leon's eyes directly. "And you? Enjoying your afternoon?"
Cara leaned closer to him, almost possessively. Leon answered smoothly, "We're meeting investors for lunch. Cara wasn't feeling well, so I thought the restaurant would be more comfortable than the office."
The lie was so smooth it made me want to scream. But screaming wouldn't change anything. Instead, I just nodded slowly, my gaze went to Cara's ears. A pair of rare diamond and pearl drop earrings hung from her lobes. They were a gift from Leon to me on our first wedding anniversary. They were one-of-a-kind, designed by a jeweler friend of his, and had mysteriously gone missing from my jewelry box months ago.
"Those are beautiful earrings, Cara," I commented. "They look... familiar."
Her hand twitched toward her ear, panic flickering before she plastered on a smile.
"Oh, these? Just something Leon gave me."
She smiled, a beautiful, triumphant grin.
"He said they reminded him of me."
My blood turned to ice. Leon hadn't just taken my love. He'd stolen the symbols of it and handed them to her like cheap trinkets.
"Did he now?" I asked softly.
The silence that followed spoke louder than any scream. Leon's jaw tightened. Cara's smile stiffened.
"We should go," Leon muttered, pulling Cara along. "We have a reservation. We'll be late."
I watched them turn, Cara shooting one last venomous glance over her shoulder. They were so caught up in their own little world that they didn't see a rogue cyclist speeding down the sidewalk, swerving to avoid a pedestrian. In the next instant, there was a deafening screech of tires, a startled shout, and the blur of a body hurtling toward them.
My eyes went wide. I screamed Cara's name. Leon turned at the sound of the crash. The cyclist was going to hit them. He shoved Cara with a force that sent her sprawling onto the pavement, out of harm's way. The cyclist's front wheel clipped his leg, sending him off-balance, but he was protected. She was safe.
And I was standing right behind them, a split second away from being a casualty myself. The cyclist veered to avoid Leon and Cara but was now on a direct collision course with me. My feet were cemented to the ground. A wave of sickening dread washed over me as the bike bore down, and Leon, seeing my danger, didn't move. He stood there, frozen, his eyes on Cara, checking to see if she was okay, not on me.
It was in that half-second, as the bike swerved at the last moment, narrowly missing my shoulder, that I knew. Leon's love for her was an instinct; his care for me was an afterthought. I wasn't just betrayed; I was invisible.
The cyclist picked himself up and sped away, muttering curses. Cara whimpered, and Leon rushed to her, his hands running over her body, checking for injuries.
"Are you hurt? Did you hit your head?"
I stood there, feeling the wind from the passing bicycle. My entire body was numb, and emptiness filled the space where my heart once was. I looked at Leon, who didn't even spare me a glance. He was focused entirely on Cara. He was comforting her, cradling her head against his chest, as if she had been the one who had been almost hit.
I didn't even remember how I reached home. But I went straight to the liquor cabinet, pouring myself a heavy-handed glass of scotch. My hands were still shaking. I closed my eyes and let the scotch calm me a little, then pulled my phone. I went to my contacts and found the last person I thought I'd ever call. He answered on the second ring.
"Camilla? It's been a while. How are you?" Dante said.
I took a long swallow of scotch before answering, "I'm calling in that favor you offered me seven years ago."
There was a moment of silence before Dante said, "Anything. You know that. What do you need?"
"I need a husband. Will you marry me... in seven days?"
