Sunlight hit Dianna's eyelids like a physical blow. She woke up on the floor of the walk-in closet, her cheek pressed against the rough carpet. Her neck was stiff, and her eyes felt swollen and gritty.
She heard movement in the bedroom.
Dianna stood up, smoothing the wrinkles in her dress-she hadn't changed. She walked out.
Hunt was standing in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting his cufflinks. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit, tailored to perfection. He looked like the king of Wall Street. He looked like nothing happened.
He saw her reflection in the mirror. His eyes narrowed slightly, then he looked away.
"There's a card on the dresser," he said, his voice flat. "Buy yourself something. Just... stop looking like a victim."
Dianna looked at the black Amex Centurion card sitting on the mahogany surface. It was heavy, made of titanium. It was his apology. It was his leash.
"Are you coming home tonight?" she asked. Her voice was raspy.
Hunt laughed, a short, humorless sound. "I have important guests coming to town. Try to be invisible, Dianna. Don't embarrass me."
He walked out. He didn't say goodbye.
Dianna waited until she heard the front door close and the engine of his Maybach fade into the distance. She walked over to the dresser and picked up her iPad.
The screen lit up with a breaking news alert.
"The Angel Returns! Chasity Hughes spotted at JFK after four years of recovery abroad. Is the Brennan family finally whole?"
The photo showed a delicate woman in a wheelchair, waving to paparazzi. In the background, blurry but unmistakable, was Jeffrey Banks-Hunt's personal assistant.
Dianna felt bile rise in her throat. That's why he was so angry last night. That's why he wanted her invisible. His real love was back.
The landline on the nightstand rang. Dianna stared at it. She knew who it was. She picked it up.
"Dianna," the voice of Eleanor Brennan, Hunt's mother, clipped across the line. "I assume you've seen the news."
"I have."
"Good. We need the master suite. Chasity needs the southern exposure for her recovery. Move your things to the guest wing by tonight."
Dianna gripped the phone. "This is my room, Eleanor."
"It is Hunt's room," Eleanor corrected sharply. "You are just a guest who overstayed her welcome. Do it, or I will have the staff do it for you."
The line went dead.
Dianna put the phone down. She looked around the room. She had chosen the curtains. She had picked the paint color. She had tried to make this a home.
She walked to the wall safe hidden behind a painting. Her fingers punched in the code-her birthday. Hunt probably didn't even know it was the combination.
Inside, underneath a stack of cash, was a copy of the Prenuptial Agreement.
She flipped to page forty. Dissolution of Marriage.
Clause 7: The Wife shall receive no alimony, no property, and no assets if she initiates divorce, unless in cases of proven infidelity or abuse.
She didn't want his money. She wanted her life back.
She pulled a burner phone from the bottom of the safe-a precaution she had taken years ago. She dialed a number she hadn't called in three years.
"Mr. Sterling," she said when the line connected.
"Miss Campbell?" The lawyer's voice was shocked. "Is everything alright? Your grandfather has been-"
"Draft the divorce papers," Dianna interrupted. "I want out. Total waiver of assets. I don't want a dime. I just want it signed. Today."
"But Miss Campbell, your trust-"
"Do it."
She hung up.
Dianna walked back to the dresser. She picked up the black card Hunt had left. She opened the drawer, took out a pair of scissors, and cut the titanium card in half. It took effort. It hurt her fingers.
She placed the two halves on the polished wood.
Then, she reached for her left hand. The diamond ring was heavy, a five-carat stone that felt like a shackle. She slid it off. Her finger felt strangely light, naked.
She placed the ring on top of the cut card. Clink.
Mary walked in with a basket of laundry. She stopped dead when she saw the suitcase on the bed.
"Ma'am? Are you... going on a trip?"
Dianna zipped the suitcase shut. "No, Mary. I'm going to a place where I don't have to act anymore."
Mary looked at the ring on the dresser, then back at Dianna. Her eyes softened with pity. "Do you need help with the bag?"
"No." Dianna put on her sunglasses to hide her red-rimmed eyes. "I've got it."
She grabbed the handle and walked out of the room. She forced herself not to look back at the gilded cage that had held her for three years, but as she stepped out the front door, her gaze involuntarily drifted up to the second-floor study window, Hunt's sanctuary.
"Goodbye, Hunt," she whispered.
She opened the door and stepped out into the world.
