Chapter 3

A wave of dizziness washed over Ethan, and he gripped the wall for support. His blood ran cold. Her husband. The words were a brand on his mind, searing away the last three years of his life. He watched as nurses and staff scurried to obey Olivia' s commands, clearing the floor with quiet efficiency. She was an empress in her element, accustomed to getting what she wanted.

Through the window of a nearby room, he saw Alex Thorne lying in a hospital bed. He had a bandage on his forehead and his arm was in a sling, but he looked more irritated than injured. Olivia swept into the room, her face softening into a look of deep, loving concern that she had perfected for Ethan.

She sat on the edge of the bed and took Alex' s good hand in hers. And then Ethan saw it.

On her wrist, she was unclasping the silver bracelet he had given her for their first anniversary. It wasn' t just a piece of jewelry, he had designed it himself. The clasp was a miniature, interlocking model of the first building they had ever worked on together, a symbol of their shared past and future. It was unique, a one-of-a-kind piece, a testament to their love.

He watched, frozen in place, as she gently fastened it around Alex' s wrist.

"Here," he heard her say softly through the glass. "Let this protect you, it' s my lucky charm."

A memory, sharp and vivid, cut through Ethan' s numb shock. He was back in his workshop, two years ago, the silver gleaming under the lamplight. Olivia had watched him for hours as he painstakingly crafted the tiny, intricate clasp.

"It' s beautiful, Ethan," she had whispered, tracing the design with her finger. "It' s a symbol of us, of everything we' re building together. I' ll never take it off."

She had promised. She had sworn it would be a permanent part of her, just as he was a permanent part of her life.

Now, that symbol, that promise, was on another man' s wrist. A man who was a replacement. A man who was her real husband. It wasn' t just a betrayal, it was a desecration. She had taken something sacred, something that belonged only to them, and had casually given it away as if it were a cheap trinket.

The last flicker of hope inside him died. The image of Olivia' s smile, the memory of her promises, all of it turned to dust. She hadn' t just broken her vows to him, she had erased them. She had rewritten their entire history, and in her new version, he was nothing.

A profound, chilling despair settled over him, so deep it felt bottomless. It wasn' t just a breakup, it was the complete annihilation of his reality.

He turned and walked back to the elevator, his movements stiff, robotic. He no longer felt pain, only a vast, cold emptiness. The decision to disappear was no longer about revenge, it was about survival. He had to get away before this life, this lie, consumed him entirely.

Back in the apartment, the silence was suffocating. He walked through the rooms, each object a painful reminder of a life that was never real. He went to his closet and pulled out a small, packed duffel bag from the back. It was his emergency bag, something he always kept ready for last-minute work trips. It had a change of clothes, toiletries, and a stash of emergency cash.

He added his passport and the offshore account documents. He looked around the bedroom one last time, at her side of the bed, at the photos on the nightstand. He felt nothing.

He was about to walk out the door when he heard her key in the lock. His heart hammered against his ribs. He wasn't ready for a confrontation.

Olivia walked in, looking tired. She saw him standing by the door with his bag and her eyes widened slightly.

"Ethan? Are you going somewhere?"

Before he could answer, her phone rang. It was her assistant. He could hear the frantic voice on the other end.

"Ms. Reed, it' s a disaster! The city just announced a surprise gala tonight to honor the architects of the new city library, they' re awarding the Grand Design Prize! It' s you and Mr. Miller! The press is already gathering!"

Olivia' s face lit up, a hungry, ambitious gleam in her eyes that momentarily eclipsed her feigned concern for Alex. This was her world, the world of status and accolades.

"Don' t worry," she said, her voice dropping back into its soft, persuasive tone as she looked at Ethan. "We' ll be there. My husband and I wouldn' t miss it for the world."

The irony was so thick he could taste it. She was talking about him, but her real husband was lying in a hospital bed across town. The gala was for a project he had poured his soul into, a project Alex had merely "assisted" with. It was another stage for her to perform on, with him as her leading man, her prop.