Chapter 5

The morning sun was a miracle. For three years, I had only known the warmth of it on my skin. Today, I watched the golden light spill across the marble floors of Israel’s estate.

I stared at my own reflection in the mirror. My eyes—my new eyes—were a striking, clear hazel. They were beautiful. They were alive.

"Are you ready?" Israel’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

"I'm ready," I said.

"My men will be right behind you," he promised, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead. "Give them hell, my wife."

Half an hour later, I stood on the porch of the house I had shared with Nathan. I slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses. I unfolded my white cane.

For the first time, I actually saw the home I had lived in. I saw the expensive modern art on the walls. I saw the plush white rugs. And then, I saw them.

Nathan and Taylor were lounging on the custom leather sofa in the center of the living room. Taylor was wearing my silk robe. Her legs were draped over Nathan’s lap. He was gently stroking her hair.

The sight should have broken my heart. Instead, it fueled the fire in my veins.

I kept my gaze vacant, staring blankly at the wall just above their heads. I let my cane sweep across the floor, playing the part of the helpless, blind woman they thought I was.

Nathan sighed loudly. It was a heavy, exaggerated sound of pure annoyance.

"I knew you wouldn't last a single night out there," Nathan said, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Did you sleep on a park bench, Maureen? Or did you finally realize how pathetic you are without me?"

I didn't answer. I just stood there, gripping my cane.

Taylor let out a soft, mocking giggle. "Nate, don't be too mean to her. Look at her hair. She looks like a drowned rat."

"She brought this on herself," Nathan replied coldly. He didn't even bother to stand up. "Listen to me, Maureen. I am a generous man. I am willing to forgive your little temper tantrum at the wedding. But there are new rules now."

"Rules?" I asked, keeping my voice perfectly flat.

"Taylor is the lady of this house now," Nathan declared. "You will respect her. You will not raise your voice at her. Now, go to the kitchen. Cook breakfast for Taylor. If you apologize properly and make her a decent meal, I will let you move your things into the small guest room down the hall."

Taylor stood up. She walked toward me, holding a steaming mug of black coffee in her hands.

I could see the malicious glint in her eyes. I could see the exact moment she calculated her next move.

"Actually, Nate," Taylor purred, stepping right in front of me. "I think Maureen needs to learn her lesson right now. Oops."

She deliberately tilted the mug, aiming the scalding hot coffee directly at my chest.

For three years, I would have stood there and taken the burn. I would have cried out in pain while she pretended it was an accident.

Not today.

With lightning speed, I took a sharp, precise step to the right.

The boiling coffee missed me completely. It splashed violently onto the floor, splattering all over Taylor’s bare shins and her expensive designer slippers.

"Ahhh!" Taylor shrieked, dropping the empty mug. It shattered on the hardwood. "It burns! Nate, she pushed me! The crazy bitch pushed me!"

Nathan leaped off the sofa. "Maureen! What is wrong with you?"

I ignored them both. I simply turned around and walked up the stairs.

My cane tapped a steady, calm rhythm against the steps.

I walked into the master bedroom. I grabbed a single duffel bag. I packed my passport, my mother’s vintage jewelry, and the few personal documents I cared about.

I zipped the bag and walked back downstairs.

Taylor was sitting on the sofa, dramatically dabbing at her leg with a towel while Nathan hovered over her.

I walked straight up to the glass coffee table. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my diamond engagement ring and the heavy brass house key.

I dropped them onto the glass.

"What is this?" Nathan snapped, glaring at the keys. "Are you throwing another tantrum? Put your bag down, Maureen. You are pushing my patience to the absolute limit."

I finally lowered my chin. I looked directly at him through the dark lenses of my sunglasses.

"I'm not here to apologize, Nathan," I said. My voice was ice-cold, ringing with absolute finality. "I'm dumping you."

For a second, the room was dead silent.

Then, Nathan threw his head back and laughed.

"You're dumping me?" he scoffed, shaking his head. "That is the funniest thing I have ever heard. Where are you going to go, Maureen? You can't even cross the street by yourself. You are a blind cripple. You have no money. You have no friends. You will be crawling back to this front door by sunset, begging me to let you in."

"Let her go, Nate," Taylor sneered. "Let her starve in the streets. She deserves it."

"She won't make it past the front gate," Nathan smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Go ahead, Maureen. Walk out that door. Let's see how long you survive."

"I think I'll survive just fine," I whispered.

Before Nathan could reply, a low, powerful rumble shook the windows of the house.

It wasn't just one car. It was a fleet.

Nathan frowned, turning his head toward the front window. Taylor gasped, clutching the towel to her chest.

Outside, a perfectly synchronized line of five pitch-black Maybachs pulled into the circular driveway. The tires crunched heavily against the gravel, blocking Nathan’s sports car completely.

The doors opened in unison.

A dozen men stepped out. They were massive, dressed in flawless black suits, wearing earpieces and dark sunglasses. They moved with lethal, military precision.

The front door of the house was thrown open.

The elite bodyguards stormed into the foyer, their heavy boots echoing like thunder on the hardwood floors. They completely ignored Nathan and Taylor, marching straight toward me.

The lead guard, a towering man with a scar over his eye, stopped in front of me and bowed deeply.

"The master sent us to collect your belongings. The cars are ready for you."

Nathan’s face drained of all color. His jaw dropped. His eyes darted from the towering bodyguards to the sleek black cars idling in his driveway.