Chapter 2

Sarah' s face was a mask of fury.

"You will not create a scandal, Michael," she whispered, her voice venomous, close to my ear so the microphones wouldn't pick it up.

"Think of Veridian's reputation. Your family's name. They'll be dragged through the mud. They will never forgive you for this."

Her threat hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

My family. My father, the retired Chairman. My sister, Elizabeth, a U.S. Attorney.

Their names meant everything.

"You will issue a public statement," Sarah commanded, her eyes like ice. "Tell them you were confused. Your illness. A misunderstanding."

I looked out at the sea of faces, the whispers, the judgment.

I thought of that tiny office, the cheap furniture, the dreams we had.

To protect what was left of that, to shield my family from immediate fallout, I felt a wave of defeat.

"Fine," I managed, my voice barely audible. "A misunderstanding."

I turned, walked off the stage, and left the gala, the silence behind me deafening.

Back at our apartment, the air was cold, empty.

I started packing a bag. Clothes, toiletries, the few things that felt like mine anymore.

The door opened and Sarah stormed in, her face still flushed with anger.

"How could you humiliate me like that?" she yelled, throwing her clutch onto the sofa. "In front of everyone! Our investors, our partners!"

"You announced you were having a baby with another man, Sarah," I said, my voice flat. "I think that covers humiliation."

I zipped up my bag. "I meant what I said. I want a divorce."

Sarah scoffed, a bitter, ugly sound.

She tried to look concerned, a poor imitation of sympathy. "Michael, think how this will look. People will say I abandoned my sick husband."

Then, she pressed a hand to her mouth, a wave of nausea clearly hitting her.

The "shared future" she spoke of on stage. It wasn't just a metaphor. It was his child.

"It's his, isn't it?" I asked, the realization settling like a stone in my gut. "The baby."

Sarah straightened up, her expression turning cold, calculating.

"Yes," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. "Alessandro's lineage is... strong. European nobility. It's an upgrade, Michael."

An upgrade.

"You should be mature about this," she added, as if discussing a business merger.

The cruelty of it, the casual dismissal of our entire life together, it was breathtaking.

I stared at her, the woman I loved, the woman I built a company for.

She was a stranger.