Chapter 3

I spent the next week at Azura's place, living in a fog of takeout boxes and legal documents. Azura was my rock, handling everything from fielding calls from mutual friends to making sure I ate.

While I was trying to piece my life back together, Kimberly was busy building her new one on the ruins of mine.

Her social media, once a professional stream of tech articles and company updates, had transformed. Now it was filled with subtle-but-not-so-subtle hints of her new status.

A picture of a coffee cup with the caption, "Morning views," taken from the balcony of the apartment I had designed.

A photo of her feet propped up on the custom-made ottoman I had picked out, a glass of expensive wine in her hand. "Winding down after a long day."

The worst was a selfie of her and Caleb's dog, Scout, on the couch. "My new best buddy!"

"The nerve of this woman," Azura seethed, looking over my shoulder at my phone. "She's not even trying to be discreet. And Caleb is just letting her? Does he not see how this looks?"

I closed the app, a strange calm settling over me. "Oh, he sees it, Zu. He just doesn't care. Or maybe, he wants me to see it. He wants to prove how much better she is, how easily I was replaced."

I thought about all the times Caleb had accused me of being disloyal for talking to my friends about our problems. "We're a team, Aza," he used to say. "What happens between us stays between us."

Apparently, that rule didn't apply to his assistant.

The pain was still there, a dull ache in my chest, but it was being replaced by something else. A cold, hard resolve.

"I need to go back to the apartment," I said, standing up. "There's something I need to get."

"I'll go with you," Azura said immediately.

"No," I said. "I need to do this alone. It's just one thing. I'll be in and out."

What I needed was my mother's necklace. It was a simple gold locket she'd given me before she died. It was the most precious thing I owned, and I had foolishly left it in the jewelry box on my dresser.

I drove to the apartment, my heart pounding a nervous rhythm against my ribs. I still had my key. I let myself in, calling out Caleb's name. No answer.

The apartment was quiet. But it didn't feel empty. There was a half-eaten bowl of cereal on the kitchen island. A woman's sweater, not mine, was thrown over a chair.

My stomach clenched. I walked quickly to the master bedroom. The bed was unmade. A pair of Kimberly's shoes were kicked off by the side of the bed.

Rage, pure and hot, flooded my veins. She was living here. Sleeping in my bed.

I ignored it, focusing on my mission. I went to my dresser and opened the jewelry box.

It was empty.

My blood ran cold. I frantically searched through the other compartments. Nothing.

"Looking for something?"

I spun around. Kimberly was standing in the doorway, wearing one of my silk robes. She was holding a mug, looking completely at home.

"Where is it?" I demanded, my voice shaking with fury. "Where is my mother's necklace?"

Kimberly's face fell into a mask of concern. "Oh, that. I am so, so sorry, Azalea."

She walked over to the nightstand and picked up a small, tangled piece of gold. The locket was snapped in half, the chain broken.

"I was just looking at it," she said, her voice dripping with fake regret. "It's so beautiful. I tried it on, just for a second, and it just... it accidentally broke. I'm so clumsy."

Accidentally. She had deliberately broken the one thing she knew was irreplaceable. This wasn't a mistake. It was a declaration of war.

"You broke it," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated, not looking sorry at all. "Caleb said he'd buy you a new one. A much nicer one, actually."

That was it. The final, unforgivable act. The culmination of a thousand small cuts and one massive betrayal.

The calm I had been cultivating shattered into a million pieces.

Before I even knew what I was doing, my hand shot out and I slapped her across the face. Harder than I had ever hit anyone in my life.

The mug flew from her hand, crashing against the floor and spattering coffee everywhere. Kimberly shrieked, stumbling backward and clutching her cheek.

"You bitch!" she screamed, her mask of innocence gone, replaced by pure venom.

"I'm going to kill you," I heard myself say, the words coming from some dark, primal place inside me.

I lunged at her, and the world dissolved into a blur of screaming, scratching, and the tearing of silk.