I watched them leave. When the guard wasn't looking, I followed.

I crept up the stairs. Through a crack in the lounge door, I saw them.

Fiona was straddling Leo's lap.

Her evening gown was torn open, revealing pale skin.

Her head was thrown back, a muffled moan escaping her lips.

Leo’s hands gripped her hips, savagely setting the pace.

"Don't take out the painting I gave you again. Luckily, Javier didn't see it.”

"What are you afraid of? He's blind anyway. " Leo answered, her voice full of hunger.

I watched my wife on top of another man, taking what she wanted. She was never like this with me.

With me, she was always controlled, elegant.

But now, she had completely let go, like a starving animal.

My hand trembled as I pulled out my encrypted phone and started recording.

I had to have this. A reminder of how fake this woman was.

I stood outside that door until they were done.

Finally, Fiona was tired. She collapsed onto Leo's chest and fell asleep.

But Leo wasn't finished. He grabbed her and started again.

I couldn't listen anymore. I turned and walked away, feeling broken.

On the ride home, the driver asked if he should wait for Fiona.

"No," my voice was flat. "She has business to take care of."

By the time I got home, my heart was finally dead. I had let go of Fiona completely.

I twisted the wedding ring from my finger—the symbol of Falcone honor—and tossed it into the fire.

Then I went to my room and started gathering everything that had to do with her.

Our photos.

Her love letters to me.

The portraits I painted of her.

Souvenirs from our honeymoon.

I threw all of it into the fire.

The greedy flames licked at our memories, turning them to ash.

Sophina, there is no us anymore.

Two hours later, just as I returned to my room, Fiona burst through the door, sweating, looking frantic.

She smelled of sex. She’d obviously just finished another round with Leo.

"Javier?" She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw me sitting on the bed. "Why did you come back alone?"

Her voice was full of fear.

"You’ve been gone too long, and I got bored alone. So I asked the driver to bring me back." I said with a calm smile.

"Did you finish your business?"

"Yes, it's all taken care of," Fiona quickly explained. "I'm sorry I left you alone there."

She walked over and hugged me tight.

I could smell Leo on her. The smell of sex.

But I didn't push her away. I just stood there, my face blank, and let her hold me.

"I'll never leave you alone again," Fiona promised in my ear. "I swear."

Another promise. Her promises were worthless.

For the next few days, Fiona was all over me.

She cleared her schedule, spending every minute with me.

She cooked my favorite foods. Read to me. Walked with me. As if trying to make up for something.

But I knew it was just a performance, driven by guilt.

On the seventh day, we were walking in the garden when her phone rang.

"What is it?" she answered.

"A shipment needs to be dealt with, now," Leo's voice came through the phone. "It's urgent."

Fiona looked at me, hesitating.

"Go," I said. "I can take care of myself."

"Really?" she checked. "I'll be back soon."

"Wait," I called out.

I pulled a document out of my jacket.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Authorization papers for the overseas art fund," I said. "I need your signature."

Fiona didn't even look at it.

She was in a hurry to get to Leo. She signed the document without a second thought.

"There. I have to go." She handed the papers back to me and rushed toward the door.

She didn't even give me a goodbye hug.

I watched her walk away, then took off my sunglasses. My vision was perfectly clear.

Fiona had no idea. She had just signed an irrevocable divorce agreement.

With her own hand, she had signed our marriage away.

"Goodbye, Fiona."

I went back to the room. I uploaded the divorce papers, and the video from my phone, to the estate's main computer system.

I took one last, long look at the house that had been our home. I picked up my suitcase and walked out without looking back.

---

Meanwhile, Fiona arrived at the hospital.

Leo called and said he was attacked and stabbed while handling the shipment.

When Fiona got there, she saw it was another one of his games. He was perfectly fine.

She shot him an angry glare. "Don't be so childish."

Just as she turned to leave, the Swiss doctor who had treated my eyes walked by. He was in Chicago for a conference.

He saw Fiona and his face filled with concern. "Mrs. Moretti? Is there something wrong with Mr. Scott's eyes again?"

Fiona looked at him, confused.

"What do you mean, 'again'?"

"But Mr. Scott's eyes... he fully recovered and regained his sight a week ago," the doctor said, "He was so happy. He said he was going straight home to you, to tell you the good news himself."

The color drained from Fiona's face. Her eyes filled with a deep, bottomless panic.

She shoved Leo aside and stumbled back home.