Chapter 3

I sat at my desk in our bedroom, the morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our Manhattan penthouse. Alexander had left early for a meeting—or so he claimed. The space between us had grown into a chasm I no longer knew how to cross.

My laptop screen displayed the Blackwood family's private banking portal. As Alexander's wife, I had access, though he rarely remembered this fact. His arrogance had always been his blind spot.

"Just a little insurance," I whispered to myself, transferring a modest sum to an account I'd established under my maiden name. Not enough to alert him, but enough to give me options. I'd been making these transfers weekly, building a safety net he knew nothing about.

I placed my hand protectively over my stomach. My babies needed me to be strategic, not emotional.

My phone buzzed with a text from Martin Weiss, my attorney:

*Identity package ready. Apartment secured in Portland. Timeline as discussed.*

I deleted the message immediately. Martin was the only person I trusted with my exit plan. He'd been my family's lawyer long before I became Mrs. Blackwood, and his loyalty remained with me, not my husband's billions.

"Mrs. Blackwood?" Our housekeeper's voice came through the intercom. "Mr. Blackwood called. He requests you wear the blue Valentino for tonight's foundation gala."

Of course he did. The blue Valentino showed off my figure to its best advantage—an asset to be displayed, like everything else in his collection.

"Thank you, Elisa. I'll be ready."

Hours later, I stood beside Alexander in the grand ballroom of the Blackwood Tower, his hand possessively at the small of my back. The room glittered with New York's elite—politicians, celebrities, old money and new—all gathered for the annual Blackwood Foundation Gala.

"Victoria, darling," Alexander murmured in my ear, his breath warm against my skin. "You look stunning tonight."

I smiled automatically, the perfect corporate wife. "Thank you."

"The Kanes are here," he continued, his tone hardening. "Marcus is watching us. Remember to stay close."

Marcus Kane—Alexander's business rival and the man he blamed for every corporate setback. Their feud had become Alexander's obsession, eclipsed only by his infatuation with Maya.

"Where is Maya tonight?" I asked, unable to stop myself. "Wasn't she supposed to give a speech about her scholarship experience?"

Alexander's fingers tightened against my back. "She's running late. Probably nervous about speaking in front of so many important people."

I nodded, swallowing the bitter taste in my mouth. Another lie to add to the collection.

The evening progressed with mechanical precision—champagne flutes clinked, polite laughter echoed, checks were written for charitable causes. I played my part flawlessly, making small talk with board members' wives while Alexander networked.

Then, the disruption came.

Alexander's security chief approached, his face grim. He whispered something in my husband's ear that drained all color from his face.

"What is it?" I asked, genuine concern rising despite everything.

"It's Maya," Alexander said, his voice strained. "Kane's men have taken her."

The room seemed to tilt. "What do you mean, 'taken her'?"

"Kidnapped," he hissed, already pulling out his phone. "Marcus Kane has gone too far this time."

"Alexander," I gripped his arm, suddenly afraid. "You need to call the police, not handle this yourself."

He shook me off. "The police will only complicate things. I need to deal with this directly."

"Then I'm coming with you," I insisted, a desperate plea in my voice. "Please, Alexander. Don't leave me here alone."

For a moment, our eyes met, and I searched for any trace of the man who had once folded paper stars filled with promises. There was nothing there but cold determination.

"Stay here," he commanded. "Keep the guests calm. I'll handle this."

And then he was gone, rushing toward the exit, leaving me standing alone in a room full of people.

I stood frozen, my hand instinctively moving to my stomach. In that moment, the last thread of hope I'd been clinging to snapped. My husband had just abandoned his pregnant wife to rescue his mistress.

"Mrs. Blackwood?" A waiter appeared at my elbow. "Are you alright?"

I straightened my spine, summoning every ounce of dignity I possessed. "I'm fine. Please call for my car."

As I moved through the crowd, nodding graciously at concerned inquiries, I felt a strange calm settle over me. The decision I'd been wrestling with for weeks suddenly crystallized into perfect clarity.

In the back of the town car, I watched the city lights blur past the window. My phone remained silent—no calls or texts from Alexander checking if I'd made it home safely.

I placed my hand over my stomach, making a silent promise to my unborn children. Tomorrow, I would accelerate my plans. Tonight had proven beyond doubt that Alexander Blackwood would always choose Maya over his family.

What he didn't realize was that I was already choosing a future without him.