Chapter 4

Claire' s POV:

"Do you like it?" Aria' s voice was a venomous whisper in my ear.

I stared at her, the blood roaring in my ears. I opened my mouth to say something, to scream, to demand how she dared-

"Oh!" Aria cried out, a sudden, theatrical gasp.

She stumbled backward, her hand flying to her stomach as her body tilted at an impossible angle. She landed on the polished floor with a soft thud, her face a mask of carefully constructed agony.

The room erupted into chaos.

"What happened?"

"My God, she fell!"

"Did you see that? Her sister pushed her! She pushed a pregnant woman!"

"Someone call a doctor!"

The accusations flew like poisoned darts, each one finding its mark in my stunned silence. I hadn' t touched her. I hadn' t even moved. But in the swirl of confusion, the narrative had already been set.

Then I heard it. A voice slicing through the din, sharp with a terror and concern I had never, ever heard directed at me.

"Aria!"

It was Gabriel.

There was no mistaking the raw, unadulterated panic in his voice. It was the sound of a man watching his entire world crumble. I had heard him concerned, I had heard him worried, but I had never heard this. This was the sound of pure, undiluted love. And it was all for her.

In that single, shattering moment, the last fragile thread of hope I didn't even know I was clinging to snapped. The foolish, desperate part of my heart that whispered, maybe you' re wrong, maybe it' s all a misunderstanding, died a final, violent death.

He wasn' t my husband. He had never been my husband. He was hers. He had always been hers.

My world, which had been slowly cracking for months, finally splintered into a million irreparable pieces. The woman I was, the life I had known, the love I had believed in-it was all gone. There was nothing left but a hollow, echoing void.

My eyes, which had been wide with shock, hardened into something cold and resolute. The grief that had been a constant weight in my chest didn't disappear; it solidified, turning into a core of pure, unyielding ice. My love for him, once a roaring fire, was extinguished completely, leaving behind nothing but cold, dead ash.

This single, desperate cry for another woman was the final betrayal. It was the catalyst that transformed my plan from a desperate escape into a righteous act of vengeance.

He had made his choice.

Now, he would live with the consequences.