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."

Friday morning.

Hayes left for work early. He grabbed the briefcase from the console table, his mind consumed with worry. He didn't check the side pocket. He never did. He just shoved his laptop into the main compartment, shouting into his phone at a specialist he was trying to hire for Felicity's "gastritis," a condition the previous doctor had dismissed as mild indigestion.

Eliana was in the kitchen when her phone rang.

It was the Matriarch's assistant.

"Mrs. Vargas. The Matriarch expects Hayes to attend tonight. He has not RSVP'd."

Eliana gripped the phone. "He has to come?"

"It is a family showing. If he is not there, the Matriarch will assume the alliance is broken. And you know the punishment for breaking the alliance."

Eliana felt sick. The punishment. The "Correction."

"I'll bring him," Eliana whispered.

She hung up and called Hayes.

"Hayes," she said. "Please. Tonight. The Santos Gala. You have to come."

Hayes sighed on the other end. "Eliana, I'm busy. I have a board meeting to try and unfreeze my assets."

"It's life or death, Hayes. Please. Just for an hour."

Hayes heard the desperation in her voice. He paused.

"Fine. I'll meet you here at 7. But we leave by 9."

"Thank you," Eliana breathed.

She spent the afternoon getting ready. She wore a dark blue velvet gown, high-necked, long-sleeved. Armor.

At 6:30, she was waiting in the foyer.

Upstairs, Felicity was watching. She saw Eliana looking beautiful. She felt a surge of jealousy.

She picked up her phone. She called her friend, loud enough for Hayes to hear as he walked down the hall.

"Yeah, so I think I'll go on that date tonight. He's a doctor. Very handsome. I need to move on, right?"

Hayes stopped outside the door. A date?

He burst into the room. "You're going on a date?"

Felicity looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Well, Hayes... you're married. You're going out with your wife tonight. I can't just sit here waiting for you forever. I need a man who puts me first."

Hayes felt a surge of possessive panic. The thought of another man touching Felicity-touching his brother's widow-drove him mad.

"No," he said. "You're not going."

"But you're leaving!" Felicity cried.

Hayes looked at his watch. It was 6:50. Eliana was waiting downstairs.

He looked at Felicity's tear-streaked face.

He made a choice.

He took out his phone and texted Eliana.

Emergency board meeting. Can't make it. Go alone.

Downstairs, Eliana's phone buzzed.

She read the text.

She didn't cry. She didn't scream. She just felt her soul turn into ice.

He lied. She knew he lied. There was no board meeting at 7 PM on a Friday.

He chose her. Again.

Eliana looked at the door. Outside, the snow was falling heavily. A blizzard was starting.

She could run. But the Santos guards would find her. If she didn't show up, they would hunt her down.

She had to go. Alone. To the slaughter.

She opened the heavy front door. The wind hit her like a physical blow.

"Goodbye, Hayes," she whispered.

She walked out into the snow, got into her Audi, and drove toward the darkness.