Chapter 2

The divorce papers felt like a declaration of war in my hands. Angela' s family lawyers were sharks, but my sacrifice had a price. Ten years of my life as a political spouse to a Lopez meant I was entitled to a significant portion of the marital assets, all of which came from her family' s dynasty. It was a bitter pill for them to swallow, but it was the law.

The lawyer explained the mandatory cooling-off period. A thirty-day window before anything was final.

Angela had smirked when she heard that. "Thirty days for you to come to your senses, Alex. You'll realize you can't survive without me."

Chaney, mimicking her mother's arrogance, added, "You'll be begging to come back in a week, Daddy. Who else is going to cook for you?"

Her words were meant to hurt, and they did. A fresh wave of pain washed over me, the casual cruelty from my own child. But I just looked at them, my face a mask of calm.

"I'm not coming back," I said, my voice even. "Ever."

Angela laughed, a short, sharp sound of disbelief. "Oh, Alex. So dramatic." She stepped closer, her expensive perfume filling the air. It was the same scent she wore the day we got married. Now it just smelled like lies.

"Don't do this," she whispered, her voice dropping to a low, threatening tone. "You'll regret it."

Before I could answer, her phone buzzed. Her expression instantly softened as she saw the screen.

"Gio," she cooed. "Yes, we're almost done here... Of course, darling. Chaney and I will meet you for dinner."

She turned to our daughter. "Chaney, Uncle Gio is taking us to that new Michelin-star restaurant you wanted to try."

Chaney's face lit up. "Yay! Can we go now? I don't want to be here with him anymore." She pointed a finger at me, as if I were a piece of trash.

Angela didn't even glance back at me. She took Chaney's hand and walked out of the lawyer's office, leaving me in a wake of silence and betrayal.

I stood there for a long moment, the echo of their departure ringing in my ears. Then, I methodically packed my few personal belongings from the sterile office.

Back at the house-her house-I walked through the rooms. Everything in it, from the grand piano I no longer played to the designer furniture, was a testament to her family's wealth and my erased identity. For a decade, I had catered to her tastes, her schedule, her ambitions. My own passions were buried so deep I'd almost forgotten they existed.

No more.

I went straight to the master bathroom and stared at my reflection. The man looking back was a ghost. Subdued, tired, with sad eyes and a haircut that screamed "suburban dad." This wasn't Alex Schwartz, the music producer who could hear a hit in three notes. This was Angela Lopez's husband.

I grabbed a pair of scissors and started hacking at my hair. Then I found an old box of dye from years ago and turned my muted brown hair to a stark, unapologetic black.

Next, I went through my closet. It was filled with safe, boring polo shirts and khaki pants. The uniform of a political spouse. I stuffed them all into garbage bags. I drove to the most expensive boutique in the city and bought a leather jacket, fitted black jeans, and boots that made me feel like myself again.

Looking in the store's mirror, I saw a flicker of the man I used to be. Confident. Charismatic. Dangerous.

I felt a surge of freedom so potent it was dizzying. To celebrate, I decided to go to that same Michelin-star restaurant Angela was taking Chaney and Giovanni to. I deserved it.

The hostess led me to a small table. As I sat down, I saw them. Across the room, seated at the best table by the window, was my former family. Angela was laughing, her head tilted towards Giovanni. Chaney was showing him something on her iPad, her face glowing. They looked so happy, so complete.

Two waiters passed my table, whispering. "That's Councilwoman Lopez. Such a beautiful family, right? Her husband is so handsome."

The comment was a stab of bitter irony. They thought Giovanni was her husband. The man who had stolen my life was now living it in public.

The pain was sharp, a physical ache in my chest. I almost got up to leave, to run from the sight of it.

But then Giovanni looked up and saw me. His smile faltered for a second, his eyes widening in surprise. He quickly recovered, leaning over to whisper something to Angela.

She turned, and her jaw dropped. She stared at my new hair, my new clothes. Her eyes, for the first time in a long time, held something other than contempt. It was confusion. Shock.

Chaney saw me too and immediately scowled. "What is he doing here? Is he stalking us?"

I just raised my glass to them, a small, cold smile on my face. I wasn't going to run. Not anymore.

I was just getting started.