Two days later, the atmosphere in the house shifted. Mr. Sterling was coming.

Mr. Sterling was not just a butler. He was the executor of the Vargas Family Trust, the eyes and ears of the board, and a man who terrified Hayes more than his own father had.

Eliana prepared the living room. She went to the safe in the basement and brought out a long, rectangular box. From it, she removed a scroll.

It was a painting. A classic Chinese ink wash painting, depicting a lonely mountain peak shrouded in mist. It was attributed to a master from the Song Dynasty. It was a registered gift from the Santos Matriarch to the Vargas family upon the wedding-a symbol of the alliance so valuable it was listed on the family's insurance as a separate entity.

Eliana hung it on the main wall, replacing the photo of Leo eating spaghetti.

Felicity came in with Leo just as Eliana was adjusting the wire.

"What is that dreary thing?" Felicity asked, wrinkling her nose. "It's so... gray."

"It's history," Eliana said. "It's worth twelve million dollars."

Felicity scoffed. "For a piece of paper? Ridiculous."

Leo ran into the room. He was holding a juice box. Grape juice. He was squeezing it, making the purple liquid bubble at the straw.

Eliana sat down on the sofa. She opened a book, but she didn't read. She watched Leo.

Leo wandered toward the painting.

Eliana stood up. "Leo, be careful. That is very expensive."

She made sure her voice lacked authority. She made sure it sounded like a challenge.

Felicity rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop hovering. He's just looking."

Eliana took a step forward, then stopped. "It belongs to the Santos family, really. If anything happened to it... Hayes would be in a lot of trouble."

Felicity heard the name 'Hayes' and bristled. She looked at Leo.

"Go on, Leo," Felicity said. "Look at the fancy paper. See if it's special."

Leo grinned. He ran toward the wall. He squeezed the juice box with both hands.

A jet of purple liquid arched through the air.

It splattered across the delicate rice paper. The mist on the mountain turned a violent, sugary violet. The ink ran. The paper soaked it up instantly, warping and buckling.

"Oh no!" Eliana gasped. She brought her hands to her mouth.

Leo laughed. "It looks better now! It has color!"

Felicity giggled. "See? He's an artist."

The heavy oak doors of the living room opened.

Mr. Sterling stood there. He was a tall man with silver hair and a posture like a steel rod. Behind him stood two lawyers in gray suits.

Sterling looked at the wall.

His face did not move, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

He walked over to the painting. He inspected the purple stain. He turned to look at Felicity.

"Mrs. Vargas," Sterling said, addressing Eliana but looking at Felicity. "What has happened?"

Eliana lowered her head. "I tried to stop him, Mr. Sterling. But Felicity said..."

Sterling turned his gaze to Felicity. It was a gaze that could peel paint.

"Ms. Branch," Sterling said.

Felicity smiled nervously. "Hi, Sterling. It's just a little accident. Leo spilled some juice. It's just an old paper, we can wipe it off."

Sterling's voice was like grinding stones. "That 'old paper' is a national treasure on loan from the Santos collection. It is valued at twelve million dollars. And it is uninsured against acts of gross negligence."

Felicity's smile vanished. "Twelve... million?"

Sterling took out his phone. "I am notifying the board. This comes out of Hayes's personal equity."

"But..." Felicity stammered. "That's Hayes's money!"

Sterling looked at Leo, who was sucking on the empty juice box.

"The boy has destroyed the equivalent of the quarterly dividend," Sterling said. "Until the debt is repaid, all discretionary accounts linked to Hayes Vargas are frozen. The credit cards, the expense accounts, the liquid assets. Everything."

"What?" Felicity shrieked. "You can't do that! We have expenses!"

Sterling ignored her. He turned to the lawyers. "Document the damage. Remove the artifact."

Eliana stood in the corner. She watched Sterling berate Felicity. She watched Felicity crumble into a sobbing mess on the sofa.

She felt a tiny, cold flame of satisfaction in her gut.

"Oh, dear," Eliana said, her voice dripping with fake concern. "This is going to be very bad for Hayes."

Hayes came home an hour later. He walked into a funeral.

Felicity was wailing on the sofa. Leo was crying because his iPad had been confiscated by Sterling as "collateral" (a petty move by the butler, but effective).

Hayes saw the empty spot on the wall. He saw Sterling writing in a notebook.

"What is going on?" Hayes demanded. "My card was declined at the gas station. Do you know how humiliating that is?"

Sterling closed his notebook. "Your mistress's son destroyed the Santos painting, sir. The accounts are frozen until the twelve million is recouped."

Hayes turned pale. "Twelve million?" He looked at Felicity.

Felicity pointed at Eliana. "She let him do it! She wanted him to do it! She hates Leo!"

Hayes looked at Eliana.

Eliana stood by the window. "I warned him, Hayes. I told him it was valuable. Felicity told him to 'see if it was special.'"

Hayes looked back at Felicity. "Is that true?"

"I didn't know it was worth millions!" Felicity screamed. "It was ugly!"

Hayes rubbed his face with both hands. He looked aged, defeated.

"Sterling, can't we... work something out? The board..."

"The board is furious," Sterling said. "The Santos family will be insulted. This is a diplomatic disaster."

Sterling signaled his men. They carried the ruined painting out in a specialized case.

Hayes sat down next to Felicity. He put his head in his hands.

"I promised to buy Felicity a ring today," Hayes mumbled. "A pink diamond."

Felicity sniffed. "You can't buy it?"

Hayes shook his head. "I can't buy a coffee right now, Felicity. Sterling locked everything. I have zero access to cash."

Felicity pulled away from him. "So we're poor?"

Hayes flinched. "Not poor. Just... liquidity constrained."

He looked up and saw Eliana walking toward the stairs.

"Eliana!" Hayes called out.

She stopped. "Yes?"

"You... you have your own money, right? The allowance I gave you over the years? You didn't spend it all on clothes?"

Eliana turned. She looked at him with mild amusement.

"You want to borrow money from me?"

Hayes stood up, straightening his jacket, trying to regain some dignity. "Not borrow. Just... handle the household expenses for a while. And maybe... help with the ring. It's for Felicity. To cheer her up after this trauma."

Eliana stared at him. The audacity was breathtaking. It was almost admirable in its purity.

He wanted his wife to pay for his mistress's engagement ring.

"I'm sorry, Hayes," Eliana said smoothly. "But I spent it all."

"On what?" Hayes demanded.

"On being Mrs. Vargas," she said. "It's an expensive job."

She turned and walked up the stairs.

Inside her room, she locked the door. She went to her closet and moved a false panel in the back.

There, safe in a velvet tube, was the real Song Dynasty painting.

She had swapped it out three days ago. The one Leo destroyed was a high-end replica she had commissioned from an art student in Brooklyn for five hundred dollars. The real painting was technically a gift from the Matriarch to the Vargas family, a formal dowry item. But Eliana knew the truth. Her brother, Elnar, had manipulated the dowry list before he was exiled. He had ensured this specific scroll-the one they used to admire together in the library as children-was sent to her. It was the only piece of home she truly cared about, and she would never let that monster child touch it.

Her phone buzzed.

It was a text from an unlisted number.

Friday. The Winter Gala. Attendance is mandatory. The Matriarch expects you.

Eliana dropped the phone on the bed. Her hands started to tremble.

The Santos Gala.

It wasn't a party. It was a court session. And if the Matriarch was calling her back... it meant they sensed weakness.

She looked at the packed suitcases hidden under her bed.

She had to leave. But not before Friday. If she missed the Gala, the Santos guards would come for her. She had to go, show her face, prove she was still a "loyal daughter," and then vanish.

Three days later. The dining room.

The atmosphere was toxic. Hayes was stressed; his assets were still frozen. Felicity was sulking because she couldn't go shopping.

Dinner was silent until Felicity decided to speak.

"Eliana," she said, poking at her salad. "Are you still mad about the painting? I feel like you're holding a grudge."

Eliana didn't look up. "I'm not mad. I'm indifferent."

Hayes sighed. "Eliana, please. Be nice. Felicity is having a hard time."

Eliana put her fork down. The sound was sharp against the china.

"A hard time?" Eliana asked. "Living in my house? Eating my food? Sleeping with my husband?"

Hayes slammed his hand on the table. "Enough! I told you, I haven't slept with you because I respect her! You should be grateful I didn't divorce you sooner!"

The silence that followed was absolute. The maids in the corner looked at their shoes.

Felicity smirked. She took a sip of wine.

Eliana looked at Hayes. The man she had wasted three years on.

She reached into her bag, which was sitting on the floor. She pulled out a thick, cream-colored envelope. It was tied with a silk ribbon.

She slid it across the table toward Hayes.

"Happy Anniversary, Hayes," she said softly.

Hayes blinked. He froze.

Oh god. Today was their third anniversary.

He had forgotten. Completely.

Guilt washed over his face. He looked from the envelope to Eliana. She looked calm, almost gentle.

"Eliana... I... I didn't get you anything. With the accounts frozen..."

"It's okay," she said. "I don't want anything. Open it. You'll love it."

Hayes reached for the envelope. His hand shook slightly. He thought it was a love letter. Or maybe a check to help him out.

Just as his finger touched the ribbon, Felicity gasped.

"Ow!"

She doubled over, clutching her stomach.

"My stomach! It burns!"

Hayes dropped the envelope. He jumped up. "Felicity?"

"It's the salad!" Felicity cried. "She poisoned me!"

Hayes looked at Eliana with wild accusation.

"I dressed the salad myself, Eliana said calmly. "It's just vinaigrette."

Hayes didn't listen. He scooped Felicity up in his arms.

"I'm taking her upstairs. Get the doctor!"

He ran out of the room.

The envelope lay on the table. A drop of vinaigrette splashed onto it from Felicity's flailing arm.

Eliana sat there for a moment. She watched the oil stain spread on the paper.

She picked up the envelope.

She walked out to the hallway. Hayes's briefcase was sitting on the console table, ready for work the next morning.

Eliana slid the envelope-the signed divorce papers-into the side pocket of the briefcase.

"You'll find it," she whispered. "Eventually."

She turned to Martha, who was watching from the kitchen door.

"Martha," Eliana said.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Tomorrow morning, move my boxes to the storage unit. I'm leaving."

Martha's eyes filled with tears. She nodded. "Where will you go?"

Eliana looked out the window at the moon.

"Somewhere they can't find me."