"Sign here, Mrs. Maldonado."

The sharp voice of Walter Finch cut through the dead silence of the Beverly Hills apartment. Athena Williams stared at the thick black folder in his hands. The morning sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but the light offered no warmth. Her fingertips were ice cold.

She stood in the entryway. A black lace veil covered the lower half of her face, a permanent fixture in her life for the past three years. Walter kept his eyes fixed on the bridge of her nose, carefully avoiding the scarred tissue he assumed lay beneath the fabric.

Athena reached out. The leather of the folder felt heavy, dragging her hands down. She flipped past the dense legal jargon directly to the last page.

There it was. Caswell Maldonado. His signature was bold, aggressive, and completely devoid of hesitation.

Her stomach twisted into a tight, painful knot. The air evaporated from her lungs. Eight years of loving him in secret, three years of a hollow marriage, all reduced to a stroke of black ink.

"The Beverly Hills property will be transferred to your name entirely," Walter said, his tone purely transactional. "Mr. Maldonado has also arranged for a substantial severance deposit to your personal account."

The words sliced through her chest. Severance. Like she was a fired employee.

Athena bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted copper. She picked up the Montblanc pen resting on the console table. Her wrist shook. She squeezed the barrel of the pen so hard her knuckles turned stark white.

She pressed the nib to the paper. The scratching sound echoed in the quiet room. She forced her hand to move, signing her name next to his. The moment the pen lifted, a wave of nausea hit her. Her knees went weak.

She shoved the folder back into Walter's chest. "Thank you." Her voice came out as a raw, broken rasp.

Walter gave a stiff bow. He turned on his heel and walked toward the private elevator. The click-clack of his dress shoes against the marble floor sounded like a countdown.

The elevator doors slid shut.

Athena slammed the heavy oak door closed. The loud bang rattled the walls. She pressed her spine against the solid wood and slid down until she hit the floor. The cold seeped through her silk pajamas.

Her hands flew to her face. She grabbed the black lace veil and ripped it off. She threw it across the room. It landed in a crumpled heap near the sofa.

She pushed herself up on trembling legs. She stumbled down the hallway, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood, and pushed open the bathroom door.

She gripped the edges of the marble sink. Her chest heaved as she forced herself to look up.

The woman in the mirror stared back. There were no burns. There was no twisted, monstrous flesh. Three years of agonizing, experimental treatments had erased every flaw. Her skin was flawless, her features striking and perfect. The absurdity of it all-the perfect face hidden away, the love wasted on a man who despised a monster of his own imagination-struck her. A raw, bitter laugh escaped her lips before her expression settled into a bitter, self-mocking smile.

He will never know, she whispered to the empty room.

She turned her back on the mirror. She walked into the kitchen and opened a drawer, shoving her copy of the divorce agreement inside. She slammed it shut.

Her phone vibrated violently against the kitchen island. The screen flashed with Annabel Huff's name.

Athena took two deep breaths, forcing her heart rate to slow down. She swiped to answer.

"Did that bastard do something again?" Annabel's voice blasted through the speaker, vibrating with immediate anger. "You sound stuffed up."

"Just a cold," Athena lied. She swallowed hard, trying to clear the thickness in her throat.

"Don't lie to me. Get dressed. We are going to Rodeo Drive tomorrow. You need retail therapy, and I need to max out a credit card."

"Okay," Athena said softly. "Tomorrow."

She hung up the phone. The apartment fell back into a suffocating silence. Athena walked over to the bar cart. She grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured a generous amount into a crystal glass.

She lifted the glass and tipped her head back, swallowing the amber liquid in one gulp. The alcohol burned a fiery trail down her throat and settled hot in her empty stomach. Her eyes watered, but her gaze hardened into cold, absolute resolve.

The next morning, Athena stood inside her massive walk-in closet. Rows of conservative, high-necked dresses and long-sleeved blouses hung in perfect order. She hated them.

She bypassed the dresses and pulled out a sharply tailored trench coat. She slipped it on, tying the belt tightly around her waist. She grabbed a black, medical-grade silk mask from the drawer and looped it over her ears. It covered her from the bridge of her nose down to her chin.

She added a pair of oversized black sunglasses. Her face was completely hidden.

She grabbed her car keys and walked out the door. Down in the subterranean garage, she slid into the driver's seat of her Porsche. She pressed the ignition. The engine roared to life, the deep vibration sending a much-needed jolt of control through her body.

She slammed her foot on the gas. The car shot out of the garage and merged into the bright Los Angeles traffic, heading straight for Rodeo Drive.

She tossed her keys to the valet and stepped onto the sun-drenched pavement. The smell of expensive perfume and exhaust fumes filled the air.

Annabel was already waiting outside a high-end outdoor cafe. She wore a skin-tight red dress, tapping her foot impatiently.

Annabel lunged forward and wrapped Athena in a bone-crushing hug. The impact nearly knocked Athena's sunglasses off her face. Athena quickly reached up and pushed the frames back up her nose.

They sat down at a small iron table. A waiter immediately dropped off two iced Americanos.

"I swear, if Caswell ever shows his face near my gallery, I will throw paint in his eyes," Annabel ranted, stabbing her straw into the plastic cup.

Athena stirred the ice in her cup. Hearing his name still caused a sharp, involuntary pinch in her chest. She kept her face blank behind the mask.

After finishing their drinks, Annabel grabbed Athena's wrist and dragged her into the Hermès boutique.

A senior sales associate rushed over, her professional smile faltering for a fraction of a second when she saw Athena's mask, before recovering perfectly.

Annabel immediately started pulling scarves off the racks. Athena wandered away, feeling completely detached from the luxury around her. She stopped in front of a glass display case holding limited-edition bags.

She reached out and picked up a heavy Birkin.

"I think this one suits you better."

The voice was low, magnetic, and deeply familiar.

Athena's fingers went rigid. The heavy metal hardware of the Birkin slipped from her grasp and slammed down onto the glass counter with a loud thud.

She stopped breathing. She froze in place, peering through the gaps in the display shelves toward the VIP room.

Caswell Maldonado stepped out. He wore a custom dark suit that fit his broad shoulders perfectly. His jaw was relaxed. His eyes, usually so cold and calculating, held a rare trace of warmth.

Standing right beside him was Hayden Curry. Her blonde hair fell in perfect waves. She smiled brightly, clinging tightly to Caswell's arm.

Hayden pointed to a rare crocodile skin bag on a pedestal. She shook Caswell's arm, pouting her lips.

Caswell did not pull away. Instead, he reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He pulled out a solid black card and handed it directly to the store manager.

A physical blow struck Athena right in the sternum. The boutique spun around her. Her knees buckled slightly.

She stumbled backward, trying to hide in the shadows of the display, but her shoulder blades slammed hard against the solid wall behind her.

Annabel heard the noise. She turned her head. Her eyes followed Athena's devastated stare and landed squarely on Caswell and Hayden.

Annabel's eyes widened to the size of saucers. Her face turned bright red. She slammed the scarf she was holding down onto a velvet sofa.

Across the room, Hayden squealed in delight. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss right onto Caswell's cheek.

Caswell's body stiffened for a second, but he did not push her away.

Bile rose in the back of Athena's throat. She grabbed Annabel's arm, her fingers digging into the fabric. "Please. We need to leave. Now."

She turned in a blind panic. The strap of her purse caught the edge of a small, freestanding accessory display.

The metal rack tipped over.

A dozen expensive bracelets and enamel bangles crashed onto the marble floor. The shattering noise echoed like a gunshot through the quiet boutique.

Everyone in the store froze.

Caswell turned his head. His sharp, predatory gaze cut through the room and locked directly onto Athena.

Caswell's dark eyes narrowed. The muscle in his jaw feathered as he stared at the woman in the black mask and oversized sunglasses.

Athena felt the blood drain from her face. The air in her lungs turned to ice. She instinctively reached up to adjust her sunglasses, trying to shrink into the floor.

Hayden noticed Caswell's shift in attention. She followed his gaze, her eyes narrowing with calculated malice.

Before Athena could take a step toward the door, Annabel ripped her arm out of Athena's grip.

"Annabel, no!" Athena gasped, grabbing at empty air.

Annabel stomped across the marble floor. Her high heels clicked like rapid gunfire. She planted herself directly in front of Caswell, blocking his path.

"Caswell Maldonado, do you have no shame?" Annabel's voice was a sharp shriek that shattered the elegant atmosphere of the store.

The sales associates gasped. They stopped moving, their eyes darting nervously between the billionaire and the furious woman. The temperature in the room plummeted.

Caswell's face darkened instantly. He looked down at Annabel, his presence suffocating and heavy.

Hayden gasped dramatically. She shrank back, hiding behind Caswell's broad shoulder, her hands gripping his suit jacket tightly.

"Excuse me. Watch your tone," Caswell said. His voice was absolute zero. He completely ignored Athena, who was slowly walking up behind her friend.

Annabel pointed a shaking finger right at Hayden's face. "Respect? You bring your mistress out in public to swipe your wife's money, and you demand respect?"

Hayden's eyes filled with instant tears. Her lower lip quivered. "I am not a mistress," she whimpered. "Caswell and I are in love."

Athena stopped a few feet away. The words "in love" hit her like a physical punch to the gut. Her stomach cramped. She dug her fingernails into her palms until the skin broke.

Caswell shifted his body, shielding Hayden entirely from Annabel's wrath. His cold eyes finally moved to Athena.

"Control your friend, Athena," Caswell ordered. He said her name with a mixture of warning and deep disgust.

Athena flinched. The sound of her name on his lips felt like a slap. She stared at the man she had loved for eight years through the dark tint of her sunglasses.

Annabel shook with rage. She lunged forward, her hand raised to slap Caswell directly across his arrogant face.

Caswell shot his arm out. He shoved Annabel back by the shoulder, his grip rough and unforgiving.

Annabel stumbled backward, her heels skidding on the marble. She almost went down.

"You dare touch me? You protect this homewrecker but you shove your wife's best friend?" Annabel screamed, trying to charge at him again.

Athena cried out. She rushed forward and grabbed Annabel's waist, bracing her friend against her own body to keep her from falling.

Athena lifted her chin. She stared straight into Caswell's eyes. "Do not touch her." Her voice was hoarse, but it did not shake.

Caswell looked at the dark lenses hiding her eyes. A strange, irritating itch flared in his chest, but he shoved it down. His jaw hardened. "If you signed the papers, then get out. Stop making a scene and embarrassing yourself."

The words were a public execution. The whispers of the sales staff buzzed in Athena's ears. Her humiliation was complete.

Hayden peeked out from behind Caswell's arm. A smug, victorious smile played on her lips. She mouthed the word "Pathetic" directly at Athena.

The last thread of Athena's sanity snapped. She took a deep breath, forcing the violent urge to scream back down her throat.

She looked at Hayden with dead eyes, then shifted her gaze back to Caswell. Her voice was terrifyingly calm. "Don't worry. I don't want a single cent of your dirty money."

Athena grabbed Annabel's arm. She turned her back on them and marched toward the glass doors.

Caswell watched her walk away. His heart skipped a single, erratic beat. A sudden, uncontrollable sense of loss flashed through his chest, gone as quickly as it came.

Hayden tugged gently on his sleeve. "Caswell? Are you okay?" she cooed softly.

Caswell tore his eyes away from the door. He shoved the strange feeling down, his face returning to a mask of stone. He took the shopping bag from the manager and walked out.

Outside, the California sun was blinding. Athena dragged Annabel to the parking lot. She ripped open the door of the Porsche and collapsed into the driver's seat, her entire body shaking uncontrollably.