When I got home, Isak was waiting on the sofa.

"Leona, baby, are you okay?" he said, rushing toward me, his face a mask of worry. "Let me see the wound."

He reached to lift the fresh shirt I’d changed into, but I took a step back.

"It's fine. The doctor took care of it."

"Don't be like that," he said, closing the distance. That familiar scent of his cologne filled my senses. "Let's go upstairs. Let me see."

His hand snaked up my chest, his lips pressing against my neck. It was his go-to move. Whenever he thought I was upset, he used his body to distract me.

It used to work every time.

But tonight, I just felt tired.

"Isak, the wound hurts," I said, gently pushing him away. "Not tonight."

He froze, a guilty look clouding his face. "Leona, I'm sorry. About tonight… I shouldn't have left you. I was in such a rush, my mind went blank…"

"It's fine," I said, my voice flat. "It was a normal reaction."

"No, it wasn't," he insisted, pulling me into a tight hug. "You're my wife. I'm supposed to protect you. Can you forgive me?"

I patted his back, my touch as impersonal as if I were comforting a stranger. "It's really fine, Isak. You're tired. Go get some rest."

He stayed quiet in my arms for a long moment. I knew he was waiting for me to say something more—something sweet, forgiving, loving.

I said nothing.

The next morning, Isak was up earlier than usual. When I came downstairs, he was already in the kitchen.

"Morning, darling," he said, smiling over his shoulder. "I made your favorite—bacon and eggs. And fresh-squeezed orange juice."

The table was set with an elaborate breakfast, using the fine china from our wedding.

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry," I said, walking straight to the door. "I've got business."

"Leona," he called, following me. "At least have some coffee. And you need to change your bandages…"

"Maria will handle it."

In the car, Isak sat in the passenger seat. He had insisted on coming with me, claiming he wanted to "be there for me."

As I reviewed my schedule, I saw him pull out a lighter to light a cigarette.

It wasn't the one I gave him.

The lighter I’d given him was a custom sterling silver piece, engraved with the Valachi family motto: "Honor Above All." It was our anniversary gift, a design I’d spent three months perfecting.

The one in his hand was a cheap, plastic Lucky Strike. Julia's brand.

"Where's your lighter?" I asked.

Isak's hand paused. "What lighter?"

"The one I gave you. The engraved one."

"Oh, that one," he said, looking out the window, avoiding my eyes. "I… I must have lost it. Probably at the mall the other day."

A lie.

I'd seen it in his bag yesterday.

"Which mall?" I pressed.

"Uh… the Fashion Show Mall. Maybe I left it in a fitting room," he said, his voice tense. "Leona, why the sudden question?"

"No reason," I said, looking at the cheap lighter in his hand, a bitter laugh bubbling in my chest. "Forget it. If it's gone, it's gone."

Isak turned to look at me, a flash of confusion in his eyes. He seemed to want to say something, but he stayed silent.

I leaned back and closed my eyes.

If it's gone, it's gone.

The lighter. The marriage. Him.

I was done.

In the Valachi family’s private club, cigar smoke hung heavy in the air. A dozen of the family's senior men sat around a long oak table, talking about next month’s shipments.

Someone spoke up. "You know, Isak was crazy about Julia back in the day. All of Vegas knew he chased her for three years."

"Three years and seven months, to be exact," Julia corrected, a glint in her eye.

A murmur went through the room.

"So why didn't you say yes?" a young mafioso asked. "Isak's a hell of a catch."

Julia swirled the whiskey in her glass, ignoring the question. Instead, she changed the subject. "No matter what, Isak has always cared about me most… Actually, it was my idea for him to propose to Leona."

What?

I had just arrived, and her words hit me as I stood in the doorway. My hand clenched into a fist.

"I told him Leona was sweet, pliable. Her family had no real power, so she'd do whatever he wanted. A perfect choice. And…"

She paused.

"And she wouldn't give him any trouble."

Laughter erupted.

I stood frozen outside the door, my heart twisting in my chest.

The conversation inside continued.

"Julia, tell us the craziest thing Isak ever did for you."

Julia’s voice was bright with excitement. "Craziest? There are too many." She started counting on her fingers. "He beat a guy to a pulp for looking at me the wrong way three years ago. And he used to wire me money from his own accounts for my 'investments.' Fifty thousand at a time, easy."

A cold rage washed over me.

"What else?" someone prodded.

"For the past year, he's flown to New York to see me every single week," Julia said smugly. "Thursday night flight, back to Vegas Sunday morning. He told Leona he was on business, but really…"

She didn't have to finish. Everyone laughed knowingly.

Every Thursday.

I thought about Isak's frequent "business trips." Always Thursday to Sunday. He said it was work. I never doubted him.

"But the best part," Julia went on, "is that he'd bring Leona back a gift every time to cover his tracks. All those expensive watches, necklaces, bracelets… they were all guilt offerings."

I thought of the drawer full of gifts that appeared out of nowhere. "I saw this and thought of you," he'd always say.

"He'd even…"

I'd heard enough. I pushed the door open and walked in.

The room fell silent. Julia slowly turned to me, a defiant smile spreading across her face, as if she knew I’d been there all along.

I scanned the faces around the table. For three years, I thought I'd earned their respect. Now, they were treating my marriage like a joke with her.

Just as the silence became unbearable, the door opened again.

Isak rushed in. He didn't see me with my back to the door and went straight to Julia.

"Julia, the private party's about to start. I came to get you…"

Then he saw me.

"Leona, what are you doing here?" he asked, forcing a smile. "I thought you were at the docks today."

I slowly turned to face the man I had loved for three years.

"Yeah," I said, my voice terrifyingly calm. "And I thought you had business to handle today."

I turned and walked out without a second glance.

The air in the hallway felt clearer, but the suffocating weight on my chest remained. Three years of marriage, a calculated lie from the very beginning.

"Leona, wait!"

Isak's dress shoes clicked on the polished floor behind me. I didn't slow down.

"Leona, let me explain…" He caught up, out of breath, reaching for my arm.

I flinched away from his touch.

"Explain what?" I said, stabbing the elevator button. "Your weekly trips to New York? Or the money you funneled out of our joint accounts?"

The color drained from Isak's face.

"I can explain. It's not what you think, I swear…"

The elevator doors slid open. I stepped inside. Isak moved to follow, but Julia's voice echoed down the hall.

"Isak, don't waste your time on her," she called out, strolling toward us. "Tonight's party is going to be amazing. You don't want to miss it, do you?"

I looked at Isak, waiting.

He hesitated, his foot hovering over the threshold. He didn't get in.

"Leona, can we just talk about this tomorrow? I…"

I pressed the 'door close' button.

I sat in the driver's seat of my Maserati and lit a cigarette, watching the city lights blur. Neon signs flashed, cars streamed by, everyone heading somewhere. Only I had nowhere to go.

I started the engine, ready to head back to my own apartment—the one that didn't smell of Isak's cologne and false affection.

"Leona!"

Julia's voice came from outside my window.

I rolled it down and gave her an ice-cold stare.

"You heard what I said in there, didn't you?" she asked, leaning on the window frame. "Isak never loved you. It's always been me."

She laughed, a cruel, vicious sound. "Every time he slept with you, he was thinking of me! He told me so himself!"

I shoved the car door open, ready to drag that bitch out by her hair.

Just then, a horn blared.

A truck, out of control, was careening toward the sidewalk. The driver was drunk.

Julia was standing right in its path, oblivious.

Time seemed to slow.

I saw Isak burst out of the club doors.

"Julia!" he screamed.

The next second, he sprinted toward her, shoving her out of the way with all his strength. They both tumbled to safety.

I was still standing by my open car door.

The truck slammed into the Maserati. The force of the impact threw me backward. I felt my ribs crack as warm blood filled my mouth.

As I lay on the ground, the last thing I saw was Isak holding Julia tight, checking her for injuries, tears in his eyes, repeating, "Are you okay? Are you okay?"

No one looked at me.

Even in a moment of life and death, he still didn't choose me.

The wail of a siren grew closer as I faded into unconsciousness.

I woke up the next afternoon. The hospital room was quiet, sunlight filtering through the blinds. My left arm was in a cast, and my chest was wrapped in thick bandages. The doctor said I was lucky. No vital organs were damaged.

"Ms. Leona, you're awake," a nurse said, entering the room. "Are you feeling any discomfort?"

"Where's my husband?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Mr. Valachi was here this morning. He said there was urgent family business and to let you know he'd be back as soon as he could."

Family business. That excuse again.

"Ms. Leona," the doctor said, coming in. "We'll need a family member to handle the insurance paperwork…"

I closed my eyes, a bone-deep exhaustion washing over me.

"He's not my husband anymore," I said calmly. "We're over."

Twenty more days. Then I can walk away from him. From all of this.

As the words left my mouth, the door swung open.

Isak rushed in, his hair a mess, still wearing last night's black shirt. His eyes were red-rimmed.

"Over?" he demanded, staring at me. "What's over?"

I stared at Isak, at the mask of confusion and panic on his face. The doctor and nurse quietly excused themselves, leaving us alone.

"The game," I said flatly. "The one on my phone. It's over."

Isak let out a breath of relief and hurried to my bedside. "Leona, you scared the hell out of me. The doctor said you were seriously hurt. I…"

"Where were you last night?" I cut him off.

"I told the nurse, urgent family…"

"Stop lying, Isak," I said, meeting his eyes. "You smell like her perfume."

He flushed but tried to cover. "Right, we were talking business at the club, you know how those meetings are…"

I didn't want to hear it. The image of the crash was burned into my mind—him saving Julia without a second glance at me.

"Leona, I know you're angry," Isak said, sinking into the chair beside my bed. "I want to make it up to you. What do you want? A new car? I'll buy you a Lamborghini, something better than the Maserati."

"Don't need it."

"Then… your arms business needs funding, right? I can move some money from the family account…"

"Don't need it."

Isak looked defeated. "Then tell me what you want. Jewelry? Property? What?"

I just looked at him, the man I'd shared a bed with for three years. He had no idea what I really wanted.

It was simple. I just wanted his heart. And that was the one thing he could never give me.

"I don't want anything, Isak. Just go. I want to rest."

He sat there a moment longer, looking like he wanted to argue, but he finally stood up.

"Okay. You get some rest. I'll come see you tonight."

The door closed, and the room was quiet again.

"I was laid up in the hospital for over ten days just getting patched up. The day I got out, Isak offered to come get me. I told him no.

I've had Maria handling the handover for me, on the quiet. My flight's in three days. Now there's just one last piece of business before I'm gone.

I took a cab back to our downtown penthouse.

The moment I walked in, the familiar decor felt suffocating. Every object was a reminder of this sham of a marriage—our photo on the living room table, his things on the vanity, the vase from our honeymoon in Italy.

I started with the photos. I pulled them from their frames, one by one, looking at the girl who still believed in fairy tales. Our wedding photo, me beaming, him with a polite, distant smile. A birthday picture, my arm around his waist, his eyes looking somewhere else.

Every photo told the same story of my one-sided love.

I tore them to shreds and threw them in a trash bag.

Next were the gifts. The Patek Philippe watch he gave me, worth a hundred grand. The necklace I gave him, which he wore once. All the presents now seemed like a cruel joke.

In the nightstand, I found the love letter Isak wrote me before our wedding. On the yellowed paper, in his elegant script, he'd written:

"My dearest Leona, thank you for coming into my life. I promise to love you forever, till death do us part…"

A cold laugh escaped my lips. Love me forever?

I tore the letter to pieces.

Just as I was about to take the trash out, my phone rang.

"Ms. Leona!" It was Toni, Isak's personal bodyguard. His voice was frantic. "It's the boss! He's in trouble!"

My hand froze on the trash bag.

"What is it?"

"He's at the Calabria family's club. He got into it with Sandro. It's bad. You're the only one I could call…"

The Calabrias. Our mortal enemies. Sandro was the Don's hot-headed son, one of the most dangerous men in the city.

"What happened?"

"They were fighting over a woman. I couldn't hear clearly, but now Sandro's issued a challenge…"

A commotion erupted, and then I heard Sandro's voice.

"Since we both want her, let's let fate decide!"

Then Isak's voice: "Sandro, what are you doing?"

"Russian Roulette!" Sandro yelled. "The loser never goes near Julia again!"

The line filled with noise, then Toni's voice came back. "Ms. Leona, you have to come! He accepted!"