Eliana POV:

The next morning, I walked into the Moretti mansion for what I knew would be the last time, holding the box of his things. It felt heavier than it should, weighted with the ghost of a future that was no longer mine.

Jax's mother, Karen, met me in the grand foyer. Her usually warm features were drawn tight with concern. "Eliana, dear. I'm so glad you're here. Jax has been in a terrible mood all morning."

I managed a small, empty smile. "I just came to return some things."

She nodded, her eyes searching my face, but I kept it a blank mask. She pointed me toward his suite, and I walked up the sweeping marble staircase, my steps silent on the plush runner.

I didn't bother to knock.

I pushed the door open and froze. The air hung thick with the cloying scent of Catalina's cheap perfume. She was standing in the middle of his room, wearing his personal leather jacket.

It wasn't just any jacket. It was the one with the Moretti family crest embroidered over the heart-a symbol of his power, his authority. A symbol meant for his future wife.

She saw me and a slow, triumphant smile spread across her face. She ran a hand down the sleeve, flaunting it. A direct challenge.

Jax emerged from his bathroom, toweling his hair. He saw me and his face hardened. "Ellie," he said-the old pet name now a weapon of dismissal. "What are you doing here?"

The boy I had loved was gone. In his place stood this arrogant stranger, his eyes cold and impatient. The last ember of warmth in my chest turned to ice. My resolve hardened.

I walked back out to the top of the grand staircase just outside his door. Without a word, I turned the box over.

His things-a watch I'd given him, a framed photo of us as kids, letters I'd written-crashed and shattered against the marble below. The sound echoed through the silent mansion.

His jaw clenched. "Get everything of yours out of this house," he ordered, his voice a low, dangerous command. "I don't want a single memory of you left here."

I watched, numb, as he turned back to Catalina. A glass had tipped over on his nightstand, and he gently wiped the spill with a cloth, his movements tender. "You'll be cold without a jacket," he murmured to her, his voice soft with a tenderness I hadn't heard directed at me in years. "Take another one."

It was a deference, a gentleness, he no longer showed his own fiancée.

I turned to leave, my heart a raw, hollow cavity in my chest. Near the front door, Catalina caught up to me, her fingers digging into my arm.

"He's mine now," she hissed, her face inches from mine. "I'm going to take everything that was supposed to be yours."

Eliana POV:

A week later, I stepped into a high-stakes poker game at a club on neutral territory.

The gash on my forehead, a souvenir from my "fall" down the Moretti staircase after Catalina grabbed me, was mostly hidden by my hair, but I could feel the three stitches pulling at my skin. It was a constant, tight reminder. A visible mark of dishonor.

I saw them immediately. Jax and Catalina, moving through the room as if they owned the place. His arm was draped possessively around her waist, his fingers splayed across her hip.

My friends, Chloe and Madison, both daughters of loyal Gallo soldiers, rushed to my side.

"Lia, what's going on?" Chloe whispered, her eyes huge with shock. "People are saying the betrothal is off. That can't be true. It would destabilize everything."

I took a slow, deliberate sip of my drink.

"It's true," I said, my voice betraying nothing. "People change."

Jax's eyes found mine across the crowded room. He must have seen my composure, because a flicker of annoyance crossed his face. He leaned down and whispered something in Catalina's ear, and she let out a sharp, theatrical laugh.

He was trying to provoke me.

I ignored him. I turned to my friends and started talking about my plans for New York, about a life outside the suffocating grip of Chicago. I talked about classes and art galleries and a world where my last name meant nothing.

Later, during a high-stakes game, the tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. A dare was issued.

"Catalina," one of Jax's cousins slurred, "kiss the most powerful man in the room."

All eyes went to Jax.

Catalina looked directly at me, a malicious glint in her eyes. "Do you mind, Eliana?" she asked, her voice dripping with cloying, fake sweetness.

A cold smile touched my lips. "It has nothing to do with me."

Rage flashed in Jax's eyes. My indifference infuriated him more than any tears ever could.

He grabbed Catalina's face, his fingers tangling in her hair, and crushed his mouth to hers. It wasn't a kiss; it was a brutal statement.

He pulled back, breathing heavily, and looked straight at me. His voice boomed across the silent room.

"She's a much better kisser than you ever were."

The humiliation was absolute, a public execution of my worth. The room erupted in whispers and muffled laughter.

I didn't flinch. I held his gaze for a long moment, letting him see the complete and utter emptiness in my eyes.

Then, I turned and walked out of the club, my dignity the only thing they couldn't take from me.

Eliana POV:

I found an empty back room, the bass from the club thrumming dully through the walls. I wouldn't let myself break. Not here.

My only goal was to get out of this city, to breathe air that wasn't tainted by his memory.

I braced myself, my hands flat on a cool, wooden table. I just needed to make it home.

As I walked down the quiet hallway toward the exit, I passed an adjacent room, the door slightly ajar. I heard his voice-Jax. He was talking to Mason, his second-in-command.

"She needed to be taught a lesson," Jax was saying, his tone smug. "She needs to remember who's in control."

My blood ran cold. I froze, flattening myself against the cool drywall, listening.

"So, what's the plan with the new girl?" Mason asked.

"Catalina?" Jax scoffed. "I'll keep her around long enough to make Ellie jealous. Give it a few weeks. She'll come crawling back, begging me to take her back. She always does."

The world tilted on its axis. My love, my pain, my heartbreak-it was all just a game to him. A tool to manipulate me, to keep me in my place.

The last vestiges of warmth in my soul turned to ash and blew away.

I slipped out of the club without a sound. I walked aimlessly through the dark Chicago streets, the city lights blurring through the unshed tears.

The "forever" he had promised me was a toxic lie, a cage I had willingly lived in. My devotion hadn't been love; it had become a dangerous obsession, and I had allowed him to exploit every part of it.

When I finally made it back to my family's estate, the wrought iron gates were closed. And standing in front of them, under the single dim lamp, was Jax.

He wasn't alone. He was intercepting a courier, and in his hand, he held a large manila envelope. My envelope.

The courier looked nervous. "Sir, my instructions are to deliver this directly to Miss Gallo."

Jax's smile was predatory. "I'll make sure she gets it."

My acceptance package. My travel documents for New York. My escape.

I strode forward, my heels clicking sharply on the pavement, never breaking my pace. I walked right up to him, snatched the documents from his hand, and turned to the stunned courier.

"Thank you," I said, my voice clear and steady as I signed the delivery confirmation myself. "I have it now."