Eliza shook herself , refusing to dwell on past events that she could not change and instead tried to focus on her present.

Breakfast passed with agonizing slowness, the silence broken only by the sound of Alpha's newspaper as he carefully perused the business section.

Eliza barely ate and hated her husband for being so unaffected by the tension that he could finish a hearty meal. Eliza picked up her own dishes and headed to the sink.

"You have to eat more than one slice of toast," her husband's voice suddenly growled unexpectedly. "You're getting much too thin." The fact that he had noticed what she'd eaten, despite having hardly glanced at her over his newspaper, startled him.

"I'm not that hungry," she responded softly, and placed the dishes in the sink.

"You barely eat enough to keep a sparrow alive." He lowered his paper and met her eyes for a few seconds before diverting his focus back to the mug of coffee on the table in front of him. The direct eye contact was so unusual that Eliza barely restrained a gasp.

"I eat enough," she responded halfheartedly. Normally she would have let it go, but Eliza wanted to see if she could goad Romano into meeting her eyes again.

No such luck.

Romano merely shrugged, neatly folded his newspaper, and dropped it onto the table beside his empty plate. He gulped down the last sip of his coffee before getting up from the table.

Eliza watched as Romano stretched, his black T-shirt rising to reveal the toned and tanned band of flesh at his abdomen. 

Her mouth went dry at the sight of that dark flesh, and once again she was disgusted by her own reaction to her husband's physical presence.

She had spent the first year of their marriage believing that Romano would come to love her.

She had valiantly believed that if she loved him enough, he would go back to being the laughing, affectionate man she had known in the first few months after they had met.

Eliza still wasn't completely sure what had caused the change, but from the snide things Romano sometimes said in passing, she suspected it was her father's influence.

After nearly a year of marriage and two heats, that she spent alone in the cold bed, writhing and yearning for her husband who had refused to be bonded with her, she had been forced to face reality; Romano truly hated her. 

He hated her so much that he couldn't bring himself to speak to her, kiss her, touch her outside of bed, or even look at her.

Eliza had finally realized that there would be no thaw; their marriage was a perpetual winter wasteland, and if she ever wanted to feel the warmth of the sun on her face again, she had to get out of it.

Unfortunately, escaping would be trickier than she had thought, she would have to find a way out that did not include hurting her cousin.

Nadia and Ryan were expecting their first baby, and while Nadia was having a fairly easy time of it, Eliza was concerned that anything that would upset her could be potentially harmful to Nadia or the baby. 

Also, while Ryan’s advertising agency was fairly successful, Nadia had always prided herself on the fact that she held her own financially in their relationship. 

Taking her bookshop away could put too much strain on their relationship, and she didn't want that on her conscience.

Eliza sighed heavily and started to do the dishes, she liked to do little household tasks despite the fact that her thirty-four-year-old husband, who had worked his way up from mailroom clerk to the president of the bank his father owned, "had more money than God," as her father had once put it.

Eliza had even enthusiastically insisted on doing some of the cooking herself. They employed a housecleaning staff, as was practical when one lived in a ten-bedroom, five-bathroom monster of a house.

Because their marriage united two prominent families, the press avidly followed the intimate details of their marriage, yet Eliza tried to cling to what she believed was a semblance of normalcy.

On Saturdays the staff had the day off and Eliza liked to pick up after herself and Romano rather than wait for the maids to get to it later.

She had never had a "normal" life, and she fondly imagined that these tasks kept her grounded in reality. 

Romano didn't pretend to understand her need to have a hand in the everyday running of the house and had mockingly accused her of playing house once, shortly after their wedding.

He had never seemed to notice it again after that.

Eliza stared down at the dishes she had ready to be placed in the dishwasher and quite abruptly abandoned the task halfway through before heading upstairs and leaving Romano still in the kitchen.

Eliza changed her clothes from sweat suit to jeans and T-shirt, dragging her vibrant, hip-length chestnut brown hair into a ponytail and tugging on a denim jacket to ward off! the early autumn chill. 

On her way to the front door, she passed by the den where Romano had retreated with his laptop.

"I'm going out," she casually called through the open door, and Romano’s head jerked up while his eyes flared with some indefinable emotion.

"Where...?" he began.

"I don't know how long I'll be gone." She dashed out before Romano could utter another syllable, grabbing her shoulder bag and car keys on the way out. 

She had her reliable silver Mini Cooper fired up by the time he eventually made it down to the front door.

 With a cheery little wave that she knew had to grate, she reversed out of the driveway and headed out.

Eliza had no clue where she was going and knew that there would be hell to pay when she got back—Romano liked to keep her in a little box labeled "his wife," to be brought out only for social occasions when he needed someone to act as his perfect hostess.

Any sign of mutiny from her was bound to have unpleasant and unforeseen consequences. Still, it felt good just to do something so defiantly out of character.

Her cell phone started ringing seconds later and when she stopped at a red light he switched it off and tossed her wedding ring, she didn't need it anymore.

It was still early, barely nine, and because it was Saturday, the roads were a bit congested. Still, she felt free and she headed from the relative tranquility of Chicago, one of the wealthiest and most beautiful cities in the Country, toward the metropolis. 

Usually she would go and spend the day with Ryan and Nadia...but she knew that it was the first place Romano would look. 

Romano knew how limited her social life was. Eliza had never made friends easily; her father had kept her isolated throughout her childhood, and her only real friend growing up had been her cousin Nadia.

Her family had founded one of the first banks in the country in the 1800s and had always been leaders in the rarefied reaches of society. Victor Harrington maintained that someone of Eliza’s "breeding and background" shouldn't be allowed to mingle with just anybody, which had left her options for companionship severely limited.

She had grown up playing by herself, with Nadia, or—when her father wasn't around to see—with the housekeeper's children. 

The loneliness and isolation had carried over into her adulthood and even now, she spent most of her free time with Ryan and Nadia or learning new recipes from Emilia, her housekeeper.

She spent more time chatting with Emilia than she did speaking with her husband. The loneliness was a cycle that Eliza didn't know how to break.

After driving for several miles, she saw a likely sign, finding a parking space within easy walking distance, not that she objected to exercise.

 It was just that his knees felt strangely weak…

Perhaps anyone going into the battle of their lives experienced the same sensation.

Upon entering the foyer of the office, he walked up to the desk where a motherly looking woman sat, a headset clamped to her white hair.

"May I help you?" The woman's eyes were anything but motherly, summing Eliza up in a quick glance.

"This is a divorce lawyer's office?" The 'd' word tasted foul on her tongue, but she spat it out.

"Divorce and family law."

"I'm only interested in the former." She amazed herself with how crisp and confident she sounded. 

Determined.

Head tilting to the side, the speculative glint increased in the other woman's eyes.

"Mr. Harper is in his office, pls follow me.."

The lawyer rose to a crouch behind his desk when she entered his office, and the receptionist shut the door firmly behind her.

He offered his hand. "I'm Steven Harper. Nice to see you again, Eliza." he said smiling.

Steven and Eliza had been good friends in university and the familiarity calmed her a bit.

"I'm here to get a divorce." Eliza said.

Steven blinked. "I see, straight to business, Eliza." He said, chuckling.

Eliza smiled sheepishly.

"As soon as possible," she added, and Steven nodded understandingly.

Pulling a legal pad toward Eliza, he asked for identifying information, jotting it down.

"May I ask what grounds you are basing your request upon?"

"Irreconcilable differences." Eliza heard that on a legal show and knew it applied.

"I see." Steven paused, then asked delicately, 

"Was there ... abuse involved?"

"What? Abuse? Oh, no. Nothing like that." Romano never raised a hand to her but how does one describe callous neglect?

Though she supposed Romano’s words were abusive, they were used like weapons. But that didn't matter anymore, being in the past.

 "I ... we simply don't get along, have nothing in common."

"Any children?"

"No." Eliza swallowed. "No."

"What have you considered for financial support? I know your husband's name. He's a wealthy man. We should work out alimony per month or as a lump sum—"

”I don't want anything from him." Eliza didn't need it.

Didn't want anything from Romano aside from the one thing he would never give her.

The stress of not thinking about Romano all day, rose up and smacked her in the face.

"Liz?" Steven got up and rushed around his desk when she put her hand over her mouth, willing her stomach not to revolt.

Eliza had to stop losing her sh*t like this.

Waving Steven away, she fished in her purse and powered on her phone.

"I'm fine. Long day, and this is ... difficult."

"Of course." Steven returned to his seat and took up his pen.

"You're financially stable, then?"

"I am." Her mother had seen to that, undermining her father at the last. She had a small trust fund under her maiden name.

Eliza would never be rich but could live comfortably, if simply, and planned to find a job in any event.

"I'll have no problem covering your fees."

"Don't worry about that liz, we can discuss that later"

Eliza nodded.

"A divorce can be quite simple as long as your husband doesn't demur." Steven said speculatively.

"He won't." Eliza could envision Romano punching the air with glee, right before he informs her father that Eliza had once again met all wrong expectations.

Romano could legally take up with one of those models he normally roamed with, without any censure, not that her father had taken any issue.

If her mother had lived, would Eliza have made the same mistake, or would Mom have cautioned her, having chosen an unavailable man herself? And a cheater too.

Steven had outlined a process that should free her from this marital prison within the space of several months and she listened numbly, she took the page scribbled with notes in both their hand writings, and tucked it in her purse, for her own research.

Steven named a figure she barely raised an eyebrow at, Eliza knew she had got an appropriate discount and Steven had decided against pointing it out, but it was still a handsome amount of money.

Freedom at any price.

Eliza wouldn't use Romano’s card—it was childish to use his account to pay Steven, even if satisfying—she'd pay for her own divorce.

She would write a check from the slender stack she kept tucked in her wallet.

Romano was indeed a wealthy man, and he probably didn't even know about her small trust fund.

They'd built nothing together since their marriage—that house wasn't even on her radar—and Romano had no claim to her money as she wouldn't have on Romano’s.

While the receptionist prepared an invoice and receipt, Eliza went to her contacts to call Nadia, stilling when she noted the number of missed calls and texts.

One was from her father, but the majority from Romano, Eliza, decided to ignore them fearing what they held.

Honestly confused, then worried, she blinked and scrolled through the rest.

Her father's message was disgruntled and peremptory.

I expect you to call your husband.

A wave of relief made her belly hollow. Her father was her only surviving relation, except Nadia, if one didn't count some distant cousins, and she didn't, but obviously, Romano’s calls weren't related to something going wrong with her dad.

She dialed her voicemail and nearly dropped the phone at the tirades of messages.

Romano never phoned her. She might receive a brief text if it was compulsory for her to accompany him to an event that required his actual Omega on his arm.

But she had never heard his voice on the line since the period of time when they ...Courted.

The last call advised her Romano was notifying the police and she fumbled to a chair in the waiting room.

 The cell chimed and he squeaked before he recognized the name.

"Hello, Nadia."

"Good grief, Liz. I get off work and my phone lights up. That husband of yours wants to know where you are."

Romano had called Nadia? Eliza would have doubted Romano even had her cousin's phone number but then again they were in business together, sort of.

"I had my phone turned off”

"And you're surprised he called." Nadia didn't know the fullness of her humiliation but was aware she wasn't happy.

 It was impossible to hide her feelings from Nadia, but she hadn't revealed all her shame.

"I am. I was also at a lawyer's office. I'm still there. Here."

Seconds ticked by, and Eliza felt them pulse in her temples until Nadia asked, "Does he know about the lawyer?"

"Not yet."

"We should get some dinner."

How like Nadia not to interrogate her over the phone. 

"I'd like that."

Now she found herself contemplating all the things she could do with this unexpected time and freedom and opted for the most out-of-character thing she could think of: going to the movies. 

It was the purest form of escapism, and if there was anything that Eliza desperately wanted, it was to escape from her life.

So she spent her day going from one cinema to the next— laughing, crying, cringing, or jumping, depending on the plot. It was the most unproductive day she had ever spent in her life and she loved it.

By the time the last show of the day finished, it was after midnight, and she had a throbbing headache from sitting in darkness and the flickering light of the projector all day and a slightly upset stomach from a diet-soda and popcorn.

As she headed back to her car, the sudden reality of her situation sank in, and she started trembling. 

Eliza didn't know what to expect from Romano.

Eliza had never seen him display anything other than icy control, even in bed, but it was the first time she had ever done anything like this.

She always strove to be the perfect omega and perfect spouse, always putting Romano’s or her father's wishes first, and something as innocent as going to the movies without telling her husband seemed beyond reckless.

While she knew Romano would never physically hurt her, his potential to hurt her emotionally was unlimited.

The house was ablaze with light when she got back, and the dread made her stomach heave.

Eliza swallowed down her nausea before parking her car and heading toward the front door, which was wrenched open before she even had the chance to get her keys out.

She gulped slightly at the intimidating form of her husband looming in the doorway and stifled a yelp when Romano grabbed her arm and yanked her inside.

Romano slammed the door shut, gripping both her shoulders in his huge hands and backed her up until she was leaning against the door.

 It took her a few seconds to get over her disorientation and grasp that Romano wasn't hurting her.

Romano’s eyes feverishly raked up and down her trembling body, until he was satisfied that everything was in relatively good condition, and then he raised his eyes to meet hers full on.

His eyes, which Eliza had so little opportunity to actually look into of late, were heartbreakingly beautiful. They were blue and set between incredibly thick, black lashes and beneath sweeping brows, and right now they were smoldering with something that, in a less controlled man, might have been described as fury.

Romano’s hands released her shoulders and crept up to her face. She flinched slightly at the contact, but they remained gentle, moving to cup her jaw, his large thumbs brushing over her cheeks.

Eliza’s breathing became ragged when he leaned toward her, dipping his head closer to her.

Romano was so close that the omega could feel his clean, warm breath on her face.

He tilted her jaw slightly, and she groaned, inhaling his scent greedily, aching for her husband's lips on hers, wanting it, so desperately her legs had just about turned to jelly, and the only thing that kept her from falling to a puddle at Romano’s feet was his solidly muscled body braced against hers.

Eliza could feel alpha's erection throbbing against her stomach and knew he wanted her as desperately as she wanted her husband. 

Romano’s lush mouth was centimeters away from hers, and when he spoke, his lips brushed against her mouth.

"You pull a stunt like this again, tesoro mia, and I swear to God, you'll regret it!" (Trans/ my darling)

Eliza flinched as reality brought her back down to earth with a crash.

Romano let her go, and she slid down the door to land at his feet. Romano raked a contemptuous glance over her, the ice back and the fire gone.

"Where have you been?" he asked calmly. Eliza staggered to her feet, humiliated that she had allowed this alpha to affect her to such an embarrassing extent that she would fall at his feet.

Eliza tilted her head back defiantly and refused to answer him.

"Eliza, I'm warning you..."

"Warn away," the omega taunted shakily. 

"You want to stay married? Fine. But I refuse to let you walk all over me anymore. It's time you started showing me some respect!"

"How the hell am I supposed to respect someone who sold herself to the highest bidder?" the alpha growled with tight control, and Eliza gasped, stung.

"I have no respect for you, Eliza, not even as the potential mother of my child, because, quite frankly, you can't even do that right."

At that, Eliza completely lost it, and for the first time in her entire twenty-four years, Eliza resorted to violence.

Eliza launched herself at the alpha, hissing, spitting, and scratching like a cat. 

In that moment she hated him so much that it felt like a living thing trying to claw its way out of her to get at her tyrant husband.

When she came back to herself, she realized that Romano had her in his arms, her back to his front, her wrists in his hands, and his arms crossed over her chest.

They were both out of breath. There were terrible mewling sounds coming from the back of the omega's throat, the words of hate she had repeatedly hurled at her husband having long ago faded into incoherent sobs.

Romano’s lips were in her hair, just above her left ear, and he was making soothing sounds, not hurting her, just restraining her with his superior strength. Eliza went limp, hanging defeated from his arms.

"I'm sorry." She froze; the words were so quiet she wasn't sure she heard him correctly. 

"That was...cruel and wrong of me. I didn't mean that."

More words? Eliza didn't know how to respond and so chose not to say anything. She felt Romano swallowing before he gingerly released her wrists and stepped away from her.

Eliza made a show of rubbing them, even though the alpha hadn't hurt her at all.

Instead, the omega seemed to have inflicted most of the damage on both of them. A few of her nails were broken, and her fists were bruised from the few angry punches she had managed to land against his hard body.

Eliza turned around to face her husband and was shocked to see that he was bleeding.

He had scratches on his hands and face, including a deep, angry-looking one on his neck. He also had bite marks on his muscled forearms, and a darkening bruise on his jaw.

Romano saw her eyes land on the bruise and ruefully rubbed it.

"You pack a mean punch," he said sheepishly, before looking down at his hands and swearing softly in Italian.

"You've hurt yourself." He said and grimaced at the bruises and broken nails.

Eliza snatched her hand from Alpha's; she was not sure what this weird act was about and definitely did not trust it.

Romano’s eyes darkened at her mistrustful glare, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

Eliza pushed her way past him before heading toward the staircase.

"Eliza..." she stopped but didn't turn around.

"I really am sorry about what I said. It wasn't true." she knew his apology was insincere.

 While Romano hadn't ever said so, Eliza knew that he blamed the omega for the baby she had lost early on in their marriage. 

The fact that Eliza hadn't conceived since then had merely cemented his low opinion of her.

"I'm going to bed," she whispered, ignoring the apology and still not looking at him.

"Yes..." Romano moved out of her way and buried his hands in his trouser pockets.

Eliza was intensely aware of his eyes boring into her back as she walked away from the alpha, and held her head up as she ascended the stairs to the second floor.