She set down her almond milk and looked up at me. A calculating smile curled the corner of her mouth.
"I have a private jewelry showcase this afternoon. I need professional still-life photography for the rare gemstones and design sketches, to put together a promotional catalog. The new photographers are all subpar, so I specifically requested you. The Godfather agreed."
My body went rigid. My blood felt like it had frozen solid in my veins.
A private jewelry showcase? Professional still-life photography?
I hadn't touched a camera since my mother died.
The moment I saw that black camera body, the moment I looked through that cold viewfinder, the memories came flooding in, beyond my control. My mother sitting at her desk, guiding my hands, teaching me how to photograph jewelry designs. My mother in front of the lens, radiating confidence as she presented her newest collection. And my mother, the light draining from her eyes, shattered by the news that her patents had been leaked.
That was the deepest wound I carried. The one I could never bear to touch.
Samuel knew that better than anyone.
He had locked every piece of my photography equipment in the Castle's vault himself. He'd told me that whenever I was ready, he'd bring it all out again.
But now, as if the memory had been wiped clean from his mind, he ignored my resistance. He seized my wrist, dragged me to the armored car, and pushed me into the back seat.
"Lois, stop being difficult. The showcase is important. Selene's jewelry brand just launched, and this promotion is critical for her. Just bear with it and sit in the back."
He turned to Selene, his voice dropping into something warm and solicitous. "Selene, you get carsick easily. I've told the driver to slow down, and I had a neck pillow put in for you. Take the front seat. You'll be more comfortable."
I sat in the jolting back seat, my stomach heaving, gripping the overhead handle so hard my knuckles turned bone-white.
My motion sickness was far worse than Selene's.
Three years ago, Samuel had been ambushed by a rival faction, cornered and badly wounded at a mining site. I was the one who drove. I got behind the wheel with him unconscious and bleeding beside me, and I drove us out. I was three months pregnant. The violent escape cost me the baby, and left me with a severe phobia of rough car rides.
But he'd forgotten all of it.
He remembered that Selene got uncomfortable in bumpy cars. He forgot that I suffered through every single one.
The car pressed on. Each jolt felt like a blade peeling back another layer of my nerves. I fought the nausea down, refusing to let myself be sick, but the bile kept climbing higher in my throat.
My phone screen lit up. Based on the timing, it had to be a message from Joshua.
I was about to check it when Samuel grabbed the phone out of my hand.
"What message is so important? If you're carsick, stop staring at your phone. Rest."
He tapped the screen out of habit, trying to open it, but the passcode stopped him.
My heart lurched. Samuel had always known my passcode. It was our wedding anniversary. I'd forgotten to change it these past few days. If he saw my conversations with Joshua, it would jeopardize everything. My escape. My revenge.
But Samuel tried three times and failed to unlock it. He handed the phone back with a trace of irritation, reminding me again not to use my phone while carsick.
He couldn't even remember our wedding anniversary.
I closed my eyes. A wave of cold settled over my heart.
We finally arrived at the showcase venue. The first thing Samuel did was step out of the car and carefully smooth out Selene's skirt. He checked her protective gear, then took her hand himself and escorted her into the gemstone exhibition area.
And me? I clung to the car door, crouched on the ground, gasping for air, trying to fight through the dizziness. Cold sweat beaded across my forehead.
"Lois, stop standing around outside. The showcase is about to start. The documentation work is important. It matters to the family and to Selene. Don't be selfish."
Samuel had come back at some point. He grabbed my wrist and hauled me into the exhibition area. I stumbled, off-balance. The camera bag nearly spilled from my hands, and a lens struck the ground with a sharp, brittle crack.
This was the first time in five years I had picked up a camera.
Terror engulfed me in an instant. My fingers shook uncontrollably, violently, and I couldn't press the shutter.
I forced myself to breathe. Forced myself to be calm. One deep breath. Then I began, frame by frame, documenting the still-life displays at the showcase. But every time the shutter clicked, I saw my mother. Teaching me. Guiding my hands. My heart felt crushed in an invisible fist, squeezed so tight I couldn't breathe.
During the intermission, the rest of the staff left to take a break. Only Selene and I remained.
She walked over, loomed above me, and looked down at the images I'd captured. A sneer of pure contempt twisted her lips. Her voice was cutting and cruel.
"Lois Simmons. You're just as useless as your mother. Couldn't even protect a core patent. Just stood there and watched while someone leaked it, drove her into a heart attack, and now you can't even take a decent photograph. Your hands are shaking like a leaf."
"A deserter on the battlefield. You couldn't even protect your own mother. What makes you think you deserve to stand beside the Godfather of Sicily? Let alone hold the title of his wife."
I gripped the camera so hard my knuckles went white. My nails dug into my palms, nearly breaking skin. Every ounce of willpower I had went into holding back the fury threatening to erupt.
Then a sharp, vicious slap cracked across my face.
The sound rang out, crisp and piercing.
Burning pain bloomed instantly, spreading across my cheek. My ears buzzed with a high-pitched ringing.
Selene lowered her hand, her eyes brimming with contempt and disdain. Her voice turned even more venomous.
"You actually think you deserve to sit in the Godfather's wife's seat? I never imagined that after Grayson dumped you, you'd latch onto Samuel so quickly. Absolutely shameless."
