Chapter 2

After the gala ended, I returned to the penthouse apartment where Adrian had been staying.

The apartment was originally prepared by the Moretti family as our future marital home. For the past several years, Adrian had lived there. The unit, the car, the security system, even the bespoke suits in his walk-in closet—all paid for with Moretti money.

I gathered the work files from the coffee table into my briefcase and prepared to leave.

The door swung open.

Adrian walked in reeking of alcohol.

He carried the scent of Lily's gardenia perfume, and his expression was ice-cold. He yanked open his collar and tossed his jacket onto the sofa.

"What was that attitude of yours at the gala tonight?"

"No attitude. I simply told the truth."

"The truth?" He sneered. "Lily was just having fun. She likes the dog and thought the tie was pretty. Did you really have to embarrass her in front of all those people?"

He lit a cigarette.

"Do you know how long she cried tonight? She kept blaming herself, saying it was all her fault you were unhappy."

I looked at him.

"Adrian, it was my birthday party."

"And?" He exhaled smoke. "You're the Moretti princess. You have everything. Lily only has me. I was just making her happy for one moment, and you can't even tolerate that?"

Footsteps sounded outside the door. Lily walked in wearing one of Adrian's oversized spare shirts, her eyes red-rimmed.

"Adrian, please don't fight with her because of me." She tugged at his sleeve. "It's all my fault. I shouldn't have thought the tie was pretty. I've just never seen anything so exquisite before."

Adrian immediately took her hand. The look he gave me turned even colder.

"Did you hear that? She's still defending you."

I looked at their interlocked fingers. Six years of devotion—it had all been a joke.

"There's another dozen ties in the entryway cabinet," I said. "All gifts I gave you before. You can have them. Along with this apartment—consider it yours to stay in for now."

Adrian blinked, then smirked.

"Isabella, are you pulling the running-away-from-home act again?" He looked at me with contempt. "Last time, you came crawling back in tears begging me to let you stay."

Lily lowered her head, the corner of her mouth curling ever so slightly.

"Please don't be angry, I'll leave right now..."

She turned to rush out. As she passed the coffee table, she deliberately clipped its corner.

"Ah!"

She cried out in pain and collapsed toward Adrian.

Adrian caught her, then whipped around to snarl at me. "Why did you move the table so far out? Did you do this on purpose?"

That table hadn't been moved a single inch since the day it was delivered.

I couldn't be bothered to explain.

Adrian carried Lily to the sofa and examined her knee.

There was nothing but a faint red mark.

"I'll get the first-aid kit." Adrian stood.

As he passed me, his shoulder slammed hard into mine.

I was wearing heels. My ankle twisted and I pitched sideways into the cabinet.

My temple struck the corner.

Searing pain exploded. Blood ran down my brow bone, dripping one drop at a time onto the floor.

Adrian glanced back.

"Stop faking it." He frowned. "I barely touched you. Go get Lily an ice pack—her leg matters more."

I pressed my hand to my forehead. Blood seeped between my fingers.

On the sofa, Lily watched me. Her eyes were pure provocation.

I braced myself against the cabinet and stood upright. Without looking at either of them again, I walked out.

The cold night air hit my face.

Adrian would never know. In that moment, he had severed the very last thread connecting him to the Moretti family.