Chapter 4

The next morning, Adriana walked downstairs, her face a mask of composure. She had cried all night, but she had put on her makeup, dressed in a sharp business suit, and was ready to face the day. Her dignity was the only thing she had left.

She found Jovita in the kitchen, humming a cheerful tune. She was wearing a pair of silky, ridiculously short pajamas that belonged to Adriana. She was making breakfast, acting as if she owned the place.

When Jovita saw Adriana, she gave a little gasp and tried to pull the thin robe tighter around herself.

"Oh, Ms. Cotton! I'm so sorry. I couldn't find my things, and I was just so hungry. I hope you don't mind."

Gifford was sitting at the breakfast nook, sipping coffee and reading the paper. He didn't even look up.

Adriana ignored Jovita and addressed her husband. "I believe the kitchen is for staff. We have a chef."

Gifford finally lowered his paper, his expression annoyed. "She was just being thoughtful, Adriana. Don't make everything a fight."

Jovita immediately started to cry. "I'm sorry, Ms. Cotton. I'll go. I didn't mean to intrude."

Adriana let out a short, cold laugh and turned to leave.

"Adriana!" Gifford called after her, but she didn't stop.

She drove straight to the city's most ruthless divorce lawyer.

"I want to file for divorce," she said, her voice steady. "And I want a full breakdown of our shared assets. I want to know exactly what I am entitled to."

The lawyer, a sharp woman named Ms. Davenport, nodded. "I'll get my team on it immediately, Ms. Cotton. We'll make sure you get everything you deserve."

Adriana spent the day in a haze, ignoring the constant buzz of her phone. Dozens of calls and texts from Gifford. She deleted them all without reading.

When she returned home that evening, the house was quiet. She walked up the sweeping staircase toward her bedroom, hoping for a moment of peace.

She pushed open the door and her breath caught in her throat.

The room was a disaster. Her king-sized bed was unmade, the silk sheets tangled and thrown aside. A lacy black piece of lingerie-not hers-was tossed carelessly on the floor. Gifford' s shirt and pants were crumpled in a heap by the door.

The air was thick with the cloying scent of cheap perfume and sex.

Adriana felt her knees go weak. This was her sanctuary. Their marital bed. The line had been crossed in the most brutal way possible.

"Gifford!" The name was a raw scream torn from her throat.

He appeared in the doorway moments later, looking flustered. He took in the scene and his eyes widened in shock.

"What is this?" Adriana demanded, her voice shaking with rage. "Explain this to me."

"I... I don't know," he stammered, avoiding her eyes. "Jovita was helping the maids with laundry, maybe..."

He denied knowing anything about the lingerie.

Just then, Jovita appeared behind him, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

"Oh, Ms. Cotton," she said, feigning shyness. "I am so, so sorry. I saw your beautiful lingerie when I was helping put away clothes, and I just couldn't resist trying it on. I never thought you'd come home so early."

Gifford looked relieved. "See? It was just a misunderstanding. She's a young girl, she was just being curious." He turned to Adriana. "Now, can we please just drop this?"

The rage in Adriana's chest was so immense she thought she might explode.

"A misunderstanding?" she asked, her voice dangerously low. "What's next? You'll tell me if I walked in on you two in bed, you were just 'exercising' together?"

Gifford' s face darkened with anger. "You've changed, Adriana. You've become bitter and suspicious."

He accused her of being unreasonable.

Adriana thought about the woman she used to be before him-fiery, confident, and free. She had become so obedient, so quiet. This wasn't her. It was a role she had played, and she was done.

From her briefcase, she pulled out a thick manila envelope and threw it on the messy bed.

"Divorce papers, Gifford. Sign them."

His eyes widened, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. "You can't be serious."

"I've never been more serious in my life."

"Adriana, calm down," he pleaded.

"I am calm," she stated, her voice flat. "I want a divorce."

With a roar of fury, he snatched the papers and ripped them to shreds. "I will not divorce you! This is ridiculous!"

Jovita began to sob in the doorway, her body trembling. "It's all my fault," she cried. "If I had never come back, none of this would have happened."

Adriana turned her cold gaze on the girl. "You're right. You never should have come back."

Jovita wailed louder.

Gifford rushed to her side, pulling her into a protective embrace. "She's just a child, Adriana! How can you be so cruel?"

The argument escalated, their shouts echoing through the house. The noise brought the Stanton Matriarch, Gifford's grandmother, hurrying down the hall.

The old woman took in the scene-the trashed bedroom, her weeping grandson, the crying girl, and Adriana's stony face. She sighed heavily.

"Adriana, my dear," she said, her voice frail but firm. "I am so sorry for all of this." She explained the debt of gratitude the family owed Jovita's mother, who had once saved her from a terrible accident.

"We are taking care of her as a way of repaying that debt," the matriarch said, tears in her eyes. "Please, forgive Gifford's foolishness. I will take Jovita away. She will not bother you again."

Gifford, looking chastened, also apologized. "Adriana, I'm sorry. Please, give me one more chance."

Looking at the old woman's desperate face, Adriana's resolve wavered. Perhaps it could be fixed. She gave a small, hesitant nod.

The matriarch sent Jovita away. A fragile peace settled over the house. For a few days, Gifford was attentive and kind. Adriana started to think about calling her lawyer, about withdrawing the divorce petition.

Then, one evening, the front door burst open. Gifford stormed in, his face a thundercloud. Behind him, held up by a butler, was Jovita. Her clothes were torn, her face was bruised, and she was crying hysterically.

Gifford pointed a shaking finger at Adriana. "You! How could you do this to her?"