Chapter 4

Ethan Reed POV

Aria smirked at me over Bennett's shoulder. Her lips moved, forming silent words that hit harder than a scream.

*You lost.*

I turned and walked out of the ballroom. The heavy oak doors thudded shut behind me, shutting out the noise, the cloying perfume, and the toxicity.

I went straight up to the penthouse. I needed my passport. I needed to leave tonight.

The apartment was dark. I didn't bother to turn on the lights. I knew every inch of this space by heart.

I walked toward the study. The door was slightly ajar. I heard voices.

Bennett was home early. He must have left right after me.

I froze in the hallway, my breath hitching in my throat.

"...you were too aggressive tonight, Bennett," a male voice said. It was low, cautious. It was Marcus, his lawyer. "Public humiliation? That could hurt the divorce settlement."

"Settlement?" Bennett's voice was a scoff. "There won't be a settlement, Marcus. This is all a game."

I pressed myself against the wall, the cold plaster seeping into my skin. A game?

"She's just acting out," Bennett continued. I could hear the clink of crystal and the glug of liquid into a glass. "The calm act? The refusal to pour the drink? It's a strategy. She wants me to chase her. She's trying to control the narrative."

"She seemed pretty serious, Bennett."

"Please." Bennett laughed. It was a cold, ugly sound. "Kelsey is dependent on me. Emotionally, financially. She's just hurt. I gave her a little lesson tonight. Showed her who holds the power. She needs to know her place."

My stomach turned violently.

"So what's the plan?" Marcus asked.

"I'll let her stew for a few weeks," Bennett said, his tone terrifyingly casual. "Let her feel the cold. Then, when she's desperate, I'll send flowers. Maybe an apology note. I'll arrange an 'accidental' meeting. I'll reel her back in. Give it three months. She'll be back in this house, raising Aria's baby like a good little mother."

I slapped a hand over my mouth to stop the bile from rising.

He didn't just want to leave me. He wanted to break me. He wanted to use my pain as a tool to engineer a compliant babysitter for his mistress's child.

The "genetic disease" lie. The surrogacy. The public shaming. It was all a calculated blueprint.

I had loved a monster.

I backed away silently, my heart hammering against my ribs. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely feel my fingers.

I slipped into the bedroom. I grabbed my suitcase. I punched the code into the safe.

My passport was there. The little blue book that was my ticket to freedom.

I reached for it.

"Going somewhere?"

I spun around.

Bennett was standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. He looked calm, arrogant. A monster in a bespoke suit.

He strode over and snatched the passport from my hand before I could even react.

"You don't need this," he said, flipping through the pages dismissively. "You aren't going anywhere, Kelsey. You're upset. You're irrational."

"Give it back," I said. My voice was low, dangerous.

"No," he said, tossing it onto the bed behind him. "You need to cool off. Stop this dramatic exit nonsense. You live here. You belong here."

He stepped closer, looming over me, sucking the air out of the room. "Stop fighting me, Kels. It's exhausting."

Panic flared in my chest, hot and bright. He was taking my exit. He was trapping me in his twisted game.

I looked at the passport on the bed. Then I looked at him.

I didn't see my husband anymore. I saw a jailer.

And for the first time in my life, I decided to riot.

I lunged.