Rose's POV
It took two tries to guess the password to his computer—Katherine's birthday.
Nathan loved order, so it didn’t take long to find what I was searching for.
Transaction receipts, contracts for deals that would never hold up outside a kangaroo court, reports and graphic pictures of his men's work, files upon files about his enemies' businesses he was after. All carefully hidden by his entertainment company.
I transferred as much as I could to the flash drive, all while my heart pounded in my chest, knowing one of his men could walk in at any moment.
When the transfer was completed, I reached to pull out the flash drive, but something caught my eye.
It was a folder titled "Blueberry," a codename Nathan often used for important data or people.
I was nicknamed Blueberry in his organization, so I assumed it contained moments from our lives and opened it without a second thought.
My breakfast threatened to make a reappearance when I was greeted with thousands of intimate pictures and videos of Katherine and Nathan.
They dated back years, starting a couple of months after Nathan and I had started dating, and Katherine had gotten married to her husband.
Some were taken in random hotel rooms, but my eyes were drawn to the familiar layout of our bedroom and the very bed I went to sleep in every night.
Disgusted, I continued scrolling until I saw a video with a cover image of Katherine wearing my wedding dress and draped across our bed.
My heart clenched painfully and I had to look away as my emotions overwhelmed me.
Turning took my eyes to a smiling picture of me on his desk and my vision blurred with tears I refused to let fall.
Led by my pain, I transferred the pictures and videos of them to the flash drive then left the office.
My feet led me to my closet, filled to the brim with designer clothes fresh off the runway, expensive jewelry custom-made by top jewelers, and all the shoes a woman could wish for.
Once upon a time, it had all been a dream come true.
But now that I knew Bella was the price that was paid for it, I hated the me who adored them.
I had worn it so many times after that cursed day it didn't take long to find my wedding dress, and I laid it out on the ground.
It was an old-fashioned style that had people questioning my taste. I modeled it after Nathan's mom's dress to honor her.
He had been so proud of it, bragging to everyone about how devoted and loyal his new wife was—only to defile it by letting his mistress wear it while he did her on our bed.
I grabbed a pair of scissors and cut it up, then bundled the shreds into a trash bag to be burned by the maids.
Destroying the dress was a good way to get my anger out, but then came another problem—how to get out of the house and away from the bodyguards Nathan had follow me at all times.
A few hours after midnight, Nathan crawled back into our bed, covered in Katherine's perfume.
He tried to be intimate, pressing kisses into my neck but I refused to give in, knowing I would break down in tears if he touched me.
He asked what was wrong. I didn't bother facing him as I told him nothing, but his silence as he lay down to sleep let me know he could hear the lie in my voice.
The next morning, I woke up to Nathan preparing breakfast.
He had on my frilly apron and was covered in flour—a sight that would have warmed me before but now felt like a performance to lower my guard.
"Good morning, darling," he kissed me and led me to the breakfast nook. "I know yesterday was hard for you, so I thought, why not start the day with something sweet?"
He placed a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of me—my favorite—and smiled proudly at his work.
He was so good at playing the perfect husband, it almost made me forget he had cut open my sister and used her for spare parts.
"Thank you," I forced a smile.
"It was my pleasure. Plus, I told Katherine about your mood, and she agreed to come shopping with us to cheer you up."
The sweet pancake turned bitter in my mouth.
Nathan noticed the change and frowned in confusion.
Ever since I met Katherine, I had wanted to be friends with her, so suddenly not wanting to go shopping with her was too out of character.
"I guess I should have asked first then," he said apologetically. "Should I call her and cancel?"
Yes, was my first thought—until I realized this was what I needed.
Shopping meant my bodyguards wouldn't be allowed into certain rooms, and that could be my chance to escape.
I schooled my features into one of excitement and shook my head.
"No. A day out is exactly what I need.”
