Chapter 1

I stood by Don Declan Marchetti through everything—from nothing to controlling New York's underworld. And six months into our marriage, I asked for a divorce.

The scholarship girl I'd personally funded was on her knees, sobbing, swearing she'd cut all ties.

Declan sat motionless, his thumb tracing the edge of the divorce papers, jaw clenched tight.

"I just thought Isabelle reminded me of who you used to be. I wanted to give her everything I couldn't give you back then."

"I wanted to make it up to the girl who suffered beside me."

Make it up.

Taking Isabelle to late-night diners on the Lower East Side. Carrying her shopping bags down Fifth Avenue. Flying her to Santa Fe to watch the sunset. Dropping six figures at Sotheby's to win her the Moonlight Heart diamond. Sitting up with her until dawn. All of it—compensation.

But that compensation belonged to me.

And since he'd given it away, I didn't want him anymore either.

I smiled—just a ghost of one, edged with something cold.

"Declan, am I dead?"

I was standing right here. Breathing. Alive. So why was someone else collecting what was mine?

He said nothing. Just pressed his lips together and stared at me with that infuriating silence.

Isabelle's face went sheet-white. She nearly crumpled to the floor.

In the past, this was where I'd lose it—screaming, raging at his composure, hating how he could sit there like a marble saint while I burned. As if nothing he ever did was wrong.

But today, I just laughed softly.

I uncapped the Mont Blanc pen and tossed it in front of him.

"Sign it. I'm only asking for half. That's more than fair."

Ink splattered across his fingers. Maybe I imagined it, but his hand seemed to tremble.

He picked up the pen. The trembling got worse.

Three attempts. No signature. Then the pen hit the table with a sharp crack.

"Sera, it's not what you think. You've got this all wrong."

"Our marriage deserves more than this. I won't agree to it."

Isabelle snapped awake then, tears glistening like crystal.

She crawled toward me, clutching the hem of my dress, voice breaking.

"I swear—there's nothing between us. He treats me like a sister. He's just projecting his guilt about you onto me."

"Please don't fight because of me. I'll leave. I'll disappear right now. Just please don't be angry anymore."

I exhaled slowly.

Same question as before.

Am I dead? If I'm not dead, why is someone else living my life?

"She's the scholarship student you chose to sponsor," Declan said, an edge creeping into his voice. "You're seriously jealous of a charity case?"

"If I wanted a woman who reminded me of you, why wouldn't I just keep a mistress outright?"

"Isn't that exactly what this is?" I asked quietly. Every bone in my body ached with exhaustion.

No brother-in-law buys his little sister a diamond ring. No brother-in-law stays up all night talking to his sister. Once or twice might be concern.

But twenty times in a single month? That's not concern. That's devotion.

I used to think I was being paranoid.

Now I realized I'd been blind. Stupid.

"Seraphina! Have you lost your mind?"

"She's nineteen years old! You want to destroy her?"

Declan's face went dark, fury blazing behind his eyes.

"She just started at Juilliard! She's not like you—dropped out of high school and had two abortions over a man before you were twenty! Are you trying to ruin her life?"

Three accusations, each one sharper than the last.

He didn't even hear himself. Didn't realize what he'd just revealed—how deeply he cared about Isabelle Laurent.

My eyes burned. The tears came before I could stop them.

He was right. I wasn't like Isabelle.

I gave up my scholarship for him. Worked double shifts. Threw away my future—Harvard, the National Ballet Company, and even the two babies I lost to malnutrition without ever knowing I was carrying them. All of it—for him.

He could forget all that if he wanted. But he had no right to weaponize it against me.

I tilted my head back, swiping roughly at my face.

It took everything I had to form a complete sentence.

"Then sign the papers."

"Declan. Let's end this cleanly."