Chapter 4

Eliana POV

The penthouse was quiet when I entered.

Unnervingly so.

My key turned smoothly in the lock, which meant he hadn't bothered to change them yet.

Pure arrogance.

He assumed I would come crawling back, so why waste money on a locksmith?

I went straight to the master bedroom.

The bed was unmade.

Sheets tangled.

It reeked of her perfume-something sickly sweet, like vanilla and desperation.

I walked to the walk-in closet and shoved aside the painting that hid the wall safe.

The safe door was ajar.

My stomach plummeted.

I pulled it open.

Papers were scattered. Cash was there.

But the velvet box was empty.

My mother's ring.

A vintage sapphire surrounded by diamonds, hand-cut in the 1920s.

It was the only thing I had left of her.

"Looking for this?"

I spun around.

Jami was leaning against the doorframe, draped in one of my silk robes.

It hung loose on her frame.

Around her neck, on a cheap gold chain, hung my mother's ring.

She had threaded the flimsy chain through the band, wearing it like a trophy.

"Take it off," I said. My voice was low, dangerous.

"Dustin said I could have anything I wanted," she said, smiling. "He said you left everything behind. Finders keepers."

"That is my mother's ring. It's not community property. Take. It. Off."

I stepped toward her.

Jami flinched, her eyes darting to the hallway.

"Dustin!" she screamed. "Dustin, she's hurting me!"

Dustin appeared instantly, rushing in from the bathroom, a towel hastily wrapped around his waist.

"What the hell is going on?"

"She's trying to attack me!" Jami cried, clutching the ring. "She's trying to steal my necklace!"

"It's my mother's ring, Dustin," I said, pointing at Jami's chest. "She stole it from the safe."

Dustin looked at the ring, then at me.

"It's just a ring, Eliana. Jami liked it. I'll buy you another one. A better one."

"A better one? That ring is eighty years old. It's my family's history."

"You're not using it." He shrugged, completely indifferent. "You're not even here."

"Give it to me."

I lunged for Jami.

I didn't want to hurt her. I just wanted the ring.

But Jami shrieked and yanked the chain.

She ripped it off her neck and threw the ring onto the hardwood floor.

Snap.

The sound was sickening.

The sapphire popped out of the setting and skittered under the dresser.

The gold band bent under the force of the impact.

I stared at the broken pieces of my mother's legacy.

Something inside me snapped.

I looked up at Jami. She was smirking.

I slapped her.

It wasn't a calculated move. It was pure reflex.

My palm connected with her cheek with a sharp thwack.

Jami screamed.

Then the world spun.

Dustin had grabbed my shoulders.

He didn't pull me back.

He shoved me.

He shoved me hard.

I stumbled backward, my feet tangling in the rug.

I fell.

My head cracked against the corner of the heavy oak nightstand.

Pain detonated behind my eyes.

White light flashed, then faded into a dull, throbbing ache.

I lay on the floor, stunned.

I touched my temple. My fingers came away wet and red.

Dustin stood over me, his chest heaving.

For a second, I saw horror in his eyes.

"Eliana..." he started, taking a step forward.

Then Jami wailed.

"My baby! Dustin, the stress! My stomach hurts!"

Dustin stopped dead.

He looked at me, bleeding on the floor.

Then he looked at Jami.

He turned his back on me.

"It's okay, baby, I've got you," he cooed, wrapping his arms around her. "She's crazy. Don't listen to her."

I pushed myself up.

The room was tilting.

I crawled to the dresser and found the sapphire.

I grabbed the bent gold band.

I stood up, swaying.

Blood trickled down the side of my face, staining my collar.

"Dustin," I said.

He didn't turn around. He was stroking Jami's hair.

"Dustin Powell."

He glanced over his shoulder, annoyed.

"Get out, Eliana. Before I call the police."

I squeezed the broken ring in my fist until the metal bit into my skin.

"We are done," I said.

My voice wasn't shaking anymore.

"You broke the ring. You broke my head. And you just broke the last thread holding me to you."

"Yeah, yeah, get out," he said, waving his hand dismissively.

"I'm going," I said. "But remember this moment, Dustin. Because this is the moment you lost everything."

I walked out.

I didn't wipe the blood off my face.

Let the doorman see it.

Let the cameras in the elevator record it.

I wanted the world to see what his love looked like.

"You think you're safe?" I whispered to the closing elevator doors. "I'm going to bury you."