Chapter 5

The gallery pulsed with the low hum of expensive chatter, the clinking of champagne glasses, and the faint scent of new paint. Amir, dazzling in a bespoke suit, moved through the crowd like a king, Hailie clinging to his arm, a wide-eyed ingénue. He spent money like it was water, buying up pieces from Hailie' s collection-vibrant, raw, undeniably youthful. His choices mirrored the impulsive, passionate gifts he used to shower on me in our early days. It was a cruel echo, a performance he was now staging for someone else.

Amir' s every move was meticulously choreographed, a grand show for the public and, I realized with a fresh wave of nausea, for Hailie. He was molding her into his next masterpiece, and she, with her innocent act, was a willing clay.

"Oh, Amir, it's just so beautiful!" Hailie gushed, her voice a little too loud, drawing attention. She clutched a painting of a lone, soaring bird. "You always know exactly what I love."

She glanced at me, her eyes sparkling with a malicious glee that belied her sweet smile. "Dr. Franklin, you're so lucky to have such a generous husband. I only wish I had someone to spoil me like this."

Amir chuckled, pulling her closer. "Hailie, darling, you deserve the best." He turned to me, his smile tight. "Blake, why don't you gift this piece to Hailie? It would mean so much to her. A gesture of friendship, of support, especially for Keon."

My breath hitched. Another painting. Another piece of Keon' s memory twisted for his sake. He was using Keon' s name as a weapon, a manipulative tool to further his new obsession. The pain was a sharp, physical agony in my chest. But my face remained impassive. I couldn' t give him the satisfaction.

"Of course," I said, my voice flat, almost robotic. "Hailie, please accept it."

Amir took the painting from my hands, his touch brushing mine, and presented it to Hailie with a flourish. His eyes were only for her as he gently placed it into her arms. "There, my dear," he murmured, his gaze soft and adoring. "A symbol of your soaring spirit."

Hailie giggled, a childish, affected sound, and batted her eyelashes at him. "You're too kind, Amir. What would I do without you?"

"You'll never have to find out," he promised, his thumb stroking her cheek.

I couldn' t bear it anymore. The air felt thin, suffocating. I needed to escape. Excusing myself, I slipped away from the dazzling crowd, seeking refuge in a quiet corridor away from the main hall. My head throbbed. The wound from the fall still ached, a constant reminder of his casual cruelty.

A moment later, I heard footsteps behind me. Hailie. Her presence was like a cold shadow.

"Enjoying the show, Blake?" Her voice, stripped of its saccharine sweetness, was a venomous hiss. Her eyes, usually wide and innocent, were now hard, glittering with triumph.

I kept walking, my gaze fixed on the ornate wallpaper. "I have nothing to say to you, Hailie."

"Oh, but I have plenty to say to you," she purred, quickening her pace to walk beside me. "Amir told me you tried to get him to choose you over me. How pathetic. He told you, didn't he? He'll always choose me. I'm young, I'm fresh, I'm what he truly desires. You're just... old news." She chuckled, a cruel, mocking sound. "Wrinkles are starting to show, Blake. And no amount of Botox will hide the expiry date on your face."

I stopped, turning slowly to face her. My gaze was steady, cold. "You are a child, Hailie. And you're playing a dangerous game."

"Oh, am I?" she challenged, her eyes narrowing. "Or am I just smarter than you? I'm getting everything you ever wanted, Blake. His love, his money, his attention. Every single thing." She stepped closer, her face contorted with malice. "And you know what the best part is? He doesn't even see it. He thinks he's saving me. He thinks I'm innocent. He thinks you're the problem."

"You're nothing but a parasite," I said, my voice low, trembling with a controlled rage. "You're feeding off his narcissism, and you'll be discarded just like all the others."

Her face twisted. "No! He loves me! He promised me forever!" She lunged, shoving me hard. "He loves me, not you!"

I stumbled backward. My foot caught on the plush carpet. The ornate railing of the grand staircase bit into my back. Then, I was falling. Tumbling down the marble steps, a sickening lurch in my stomach. The edge of a step slammed into my head. Pain exploded behind my eyes, then a warm, wet sensation. Blood.

Hailie stood at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide with feigned horror. She quickly tore at her expensive dress, ruffled her hair, and then began to scream, a high-pitched, piercing sound. "He-e-elp! She attacked me! She tried to push me down! She tried to steal my painting!"

Then, I heard it. Amir's voice, laced with fury. "Blake! What have you done?!"