A sharp pain lanced through my chest. So much for his promises. So much for forever.
"Excuse me. I don't feel well." I managed a weak smile. I stood up. "Please, enjoy your dinner."
"Flora," Eliza's soft voice called from the head table. "You look pale. Should I help you to your room?"
She sounded so sincere. If I didn't know the real her, I might have been grateful.
"No, thank you." I practically fled the room.
Back in my bedroom, I leaned against the door. My chest heaved.
Three years. Three whole years.
The light in Gwen's eyes, the part that was just for me, began to die the day Eliza walked through that door.
I wasn't the brilliant data scientist he once paraded around anymore. I was just a burden. A weight he had to carry.
But Eliza was different.
She was the saint. The grieving widow. A victim who needed his protection.
I changed out of my evening gown and into a silk robe, but sleep was the last thing on my mind.
Around midnight, I heard a faint noise coming from the study.
I crept downstairs and peeked through the half-open door.
Gwen was at his desk. Not with family business, but with a stack of glossy jewelry catalogs spread before him.
He flipped through them, focused, occasionally marking a page.
"The diamond necklace looks good," he said into the phone. "And the matching earrings. Send them both over."
My heart sank. It was our wedding anniversary. And he was shopping for another woman.
Even so, I had to tell him about Paris.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
"Gwen."
He looked up, his eyes instantly guarded. "It's late. Why aren't you in bed?"
"I need to talk to you." I walked to the other side of his desk. "I got some news today—"
He cut me off before I could finish.
"Good. Because I have something to tell you, too."
His expression turned serious, like a man about to deliver a verdict.
"I've made a decision," he said, looking straight into my eyes. "The head advisor position for the Falcone Tech Foundation. I'm giving it to Eliza."
My breath caught in my throat.
The head advisor for the Falcone Tech Foundation. He had promised that position to me.
"Don't you remember?" My voice trembled. "A year ago, you said that position was mine. You said my expertise, my reputation, could help the foundation fund projects that would actually change the future."
Gwen let out a cold laugh. "I did say that a year ago. Things have changed."
"What's changed?"
"Eliza needs this. She needs to find a purpose again." His tone was absolute, leaving no room for argument. "And you, Flora? What right do you have to question my decision?"
I stared at him in disbelief. "I'm your wife!"
"Wife?" Gwen stood up, towering over me. "A real wife wouldn't be so damn petty while I'm taking care of my dead brother's widow. A real wife would understand a husband's duties and obligations."
"Duties? Obligations?" My voice rose. "And what about me? What am I to you?"
"You?" He looked at me like I was a stranger. "You're a nerd who stares at a computer all day. Without my money, you couldn't even afford the goddamn machines you need for your 'research.' You should be grateful for what you have."
"What I have?" I almost laughed. "And what is that, Gwen? A husband who never sleeps in our bed? A title everyone in this house looks down on? A heart you shattered with your own two hands?"
Gwen's face darkened. "That's enough, Flora. Your jealousy is making you ugly."
Jealousy.
He really thought all my anger, all my pain, was just jealousy over Eliza.
"You really don't see it, do you?" I smiled, but it was pure bitterness. "You can't see what I feel for you at all."
"Feelings?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "If you really loved me, you'd support me, not throw a tantrum like a child."
I looked at him, the man I once loved so deeply, now a complete stranger.
"I understand," I said, turning for the door. "Congratulations to Eliza on her new position."
*Fine. I don't care anymore. I'm leaving anyway.*
Back in my walk-in closet, I started packing for Paris.
It wasn't much. A few outfits I wore often, and the encrypted hard drives that held my life's work.
And the custom ergonomic keyboard Gwen had made for me, with my name engraved on it.
I tried not to think, but the memories were bitter. He wasn't always like this.
There was a dinner once, with a rival family. The other mob wives were mocking me, calling me a socially awkward bookworm.
Gwen pulled me into his arms and silenced the room with a kiss.
"Listen up," he'd hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "She's my woman. Another word out of any of you, and I'll cut your tongues out." He'd looked down at me then, his eyes full of fire. "With me, Flora, you're the queen of this room."
But then Eliza came.
Gwen's brother had taken a bullet for him in a shootout. Eliza was his widow.
And Gwen seemed determined to wash away his guilt by showering her with everything.
Sometimes, I felt he was crossing a line.
Then, a year ago, I saw it.
I saw Eliza at a private club, meeting secretly with Marco—the underboss of a rival family.
She didn't look like a victim then. She was laughing with Marco, even kissing him in a dark corner.
But before I could tell Gwen, she saw me.
She beat me back to the manor.
That night, Eliza pressed a shard of glass to her wrist, screaming that she'd rather die than have her honor questioned.
"Gwen, Flora's jealous! She wants me gone, so she's trying to ruin me! Does she have any idea what a rumor like this will do? How can I face the family now? Just let me die! My husband died for you, and this is how you treat me? How sad he must be in heaven!"
She sobbed hysterically.
Before I could even speak, Gwen decided I was a liar.
He grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall.
"I never thought you could be so vicious, Flora. To make up a filthy lie like that! Have you no respect for my dead brother? He's the only reason we're not both in hell right now! Get out! The Falcone family has no place for a woman like you!"
He pulled the sobbing Eliza into his arms and roared at me to get out of his sight.
After that, we fought constantly over her.
Every argument ended with me being confined to my rooms.
To avoid the conflict, I started staying overnight at the guest apartments at the university, telling him I was at academic conferences.
Just then, the door opened. It was Gwen. He pulled me from my thoughts.
"Flora, what are you packing?"
