Anthony didn't so much as glance my way.
In fact, he'd just sent 520 rockets to Bianca's livestream, a public stamp of approval worth thousands.
I shoved Bianca aside and held up my phone with a cold smile.
"What a performance, Ms. Whitmore. So brave, so righteous."
"Then surely you won't mind if I post what you really look like behind the camera. Let your fans see what their precious little angel actually is: a two-faced fraud."
Bianca's expression shifted instantly. She turned to Anthony, eyes brimming with rehearsed hurt.
"Anthony, she's threatening me..."
The phone was ripped from my hand before I could react.
Anthony deleted the recording, then shoved me backward.
"Don't push your luck, Vivienne."
"She's not wrong. You're nothing but dead weight I've been feeding out of charity. The fact that I was willing to marry you at all should've had your ancestors weeping with gratitude."
"Bianca has real potential. Going public with her means shared resources, mutual growth. You? All you've ever done is fetch coffee and run errands like hired help. What else are you good for?"
"You kept pressuring me to go public, and for what? To feed that pathetic little ego of yours?"
He looked down at me, contempt etched into every line of his face.
"I don't even need to check. That post you deleted was you bragging to your friends about landing a celebrity boyfriend, wasn't it?"
"What's the matter, got a sudden attack of shame?"
"Vivienne, know when to quit. I'll buy you another ring. But if you keep making a scene, don't blame me when I call off the wedding for good."
A dull ache spread through my chest.
Four years. Four years of giving him everything I had.
And in his eyes, I was nothing more than a vain, useless hanger-on.
But Anthony was wrong.
What I'd deleted wasn't some lovesick social media post. It was a list of top-tier projects and resources, the kind people in this industry would kill for. Over a dozen of them. I'd been saving them as a gift for after we went public.
He never deserved a single one.
"Then I suppose I should thank you for not marrying me. Goodbye."
I said it without emotion, then walked out onto the deck alone, looking for a crew member who could get me a dinghy to shore.
A familiar voice cut through the wind behind me.
"Hold on."
Anthony followed me out with Bianca draped on his arm. He traced a lazy circle in the air with one finger, half-smiling.
"Don't forget, Vivienne. This entire yacht is mine tonight. Every boat, every amenity, every inch of it is for my friends and my women."
"Now that we've broken up, exactly what gives you the right to ask for a boat? Trying to freeload one last time?"
"Tell you what. A million dollars and you can rent one. Can't afford it? Swim. Oh, and don't bother reaching for my credit cards. I already had them frozen."
The night wind howled across the open water.
It tore straight through me, carving a hollow space where my heart used to be.
I had told Anthony once, years ago, about how a relative had pushed me into the ocean when I was a child. How I'd nearly drowned. How even after I learned to swim, deep water still made me shake so hard I couldn't breathe.
He'd held me then, his voice fierce with tenderness, promising he would always protect me. Swearing that as long as he was there, nothing like that would ever happen again.
Now he was using that same childhood wound as a blade, and twisting it.
Rex Lambert, Anthony's agent and the only witness to our secret relationship, shifted uncomfortably. The look on his face was something close to guilt.
"Anthony, it's the middle of winter. The shore is at least twelve miles out. She's one person. How is she supposed to swim that? What if something happens?"
"She doesn't have that kind of money. She took care of you for years. Don't take this too far."
Anthony lit a cigarette and let out a thin stream of smoke, his lips curling into a sneer.
"Too far? She should be grateful I'm not charging her for a ticket to the party."
"With her paygrade, she wouldn't even qualify to set foot on this deck. I've been too soft on her, that's the problem. Time she learned her place."
