Chapter 2
When I hung up, I sat on the edge of the bed, holding the velvet box as if it were all that remained of the woman I once was. Three years ago, I left my father’s house in a storm, convinced that Julian’s love was worth more than any name.
My father warned me back then that if I walked through that door for that man, I should not come back crying. I walked through it anyway, and I cried too late.
My phone vibrated again, and Chloe was sending me a video from the living room. Chandeliers, glasses, music, and women dressed like they belonged in luxury magazines filled the screen.
The camera zoomed in on Julian, who was talking to several businessmen, looking cold, confident, and proud. Then Chloe’s hand appeared, adjusting his tie as if marking her territory. Finally, she looked at the camera and moved her lips silently to say: “It’s mine.”
I woke up from my daze with a calmness that frightened me. I looked at my ring finger, which still had the mark of the ring Julian had asked me to take off three days earlier because, according to him, it didn’t look good. The next day I saw a huge diamond on Chloe’s hand.
Someone knocked on the door. “Madam,” said Martha, “there’s a gentleman downstairs who says he’s come for you. He arrived in a Bentley.”
I practically ran downstairs. In the living room was Thomas, my father’s driver since I was a child, standing tall, dressed in black, his eyes discreetly moved.
“Miss Clarissa, Mr. Vance sent me for you,” Thomas said respectfully.
Mrs. Martha opened her mouth, completely confused. To her, I had always been a quiet, almost invisible wife, without family or a past.
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“Wait a moment, Thomas,” I said, feeling a surge of strength. “I need to change.”
But Thomas hadn’t arrived alone. Behind him came two stylists, a makeup artist, and a rack full of dresses sent by my father. There was silk, rhinestones, embroidery, and colors that seemed to burn.
