Chapter 2

Ophelia's POV

I woke the next morning to pale light slipping through the heavy curtains and the quiet ticking of the clock on the nightstand.

I stayed still for a moment, staring up at the ceiling as the last traces of sleep slowly faded. Then I eased myself out of bed and walked into the bathroom. I splashed cold water over my face and rinsed my mouth, hoping the freshness would help me feel more awake.

I changed into a soft yellow spaghetti strap top and fitted black pants, then gathered my hair into a loose, messy bun, leaving a few strands falling around my face. After taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I left the bathroom and headed downstairs.

The kitchen smelled of fresh espresso and warm bread.

Bianca sat at the long marble table with a cup of coffee in front of her. Her blonde hair was pulled into a neat low ponytail, and she wore a cream blouse with dark trousers. She looked as though she had been there for hours.

Then I saw the sapphire brooch pinned over the left side of her chest.

My breath caught, and I stared at it in disbelief.

It was the antique brooch my father had left my mother, the only thing of his I still had.

Matteo sat across from Bianca in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He leaned back in his chair as he glanced at the brooch.

“That looks beautiful on you, Bianca. The blue brings out your eyes.”

My fingers curled at my sides. “That’s mine.”

Both of them turned and looked at me.

Bianca remained calm, but her fingers briefly closed around the sapphire before she lowered her hand.

Matteo placed his coffee on the table. “She only needs it for a few hours. She has an important meeting this afternoon.”

I walked closer. “I want it back.”

“Ophelia.”

“Now.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “It’s only for one meeting.”

“It belonged to my mother. You know what it means to me, Matteo,” I said, looking straight at him.

For a moment, no one said anything.

Then Bianca looked between us. “It’s fine, Matteo. I can find something else.”

She sounded calm, almost reasonable, which somehow made it worse. I couldn't tell whether she was trying to calm Matteo or make me look unreasonable.

I reached for the brooch. “Give it to me.”

For a second, Bianca did not move. Then she unpinned it herself and placed it in my open hand.

The metal was cold against my palm. I closed my fingers around it.

Matteo leaned back in his chair. “You’re making a scene over a piece of jewelry.”

“It isn’t just jewelry.”

His jaw tightened slightly. “You know I handle the household accounts, Ophelia.”

His voice remained calm, but the meaning behind his words was clear.

I held his gaze. “I know.”

“Then I think you should consider whether this is really something you want to argue about.”

I slipped the brooch into my pocket. “You can do whatever you want. I’m keeping this.”

He watched me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Fine.”

I said nothing else.

Bianca slowly rose from her chair. “I think I should let you both finish breakfast.”

Matteo gathered the papers in front of him and stood. “We can go over the rest in the study.”

He placed his hand against the middle of Bianca’s back as they walked away.

I watched them disappear down the hallway. Only then did I touch the pocket where I had put the brooch.

For years, saying no to Matteo had felt like choosing a fight I could never win. This time, I had said it anyway.

I returned upstairs when I was sure they were in the study.

My small study was at the end of the hallway, away from the rooms most of the household used. I locked the door behind me and sat at my desk.

I had six days left before I left my husband.

I opened the hidden folder on my laptop and brought up the financial records I had been collecting.

I photographed the pages one at a time, checking each image before moving to the next.

I moved small amounts into an account Matteo didn't know about and made another transfer. I couldn't risk moving too much at once, so I kept each transfer small enough that he wouldn't notice.

The money still wasn't enough.

I opened the charity records and stopped.

There were unexplained withdrawals in several places, all leading to the same shell companies and cash payments. Some of those companies were connected to people who worked with Bianca.

I took another photograph and checked it twice. I still didn't know exactly how everything connected, but there was enough here to make me keep digging.

It was almost evening when I finally closed the laptop.

As I stepped out of the study, the butler approached me with a velvet box. Inside was a deep emerald dress, soft and expensive, and exactly my size.

A short note in Matteo’s handwriting asked me to meet him at the hotel that evening.

It was the same hotel we used to escape to during the first two years of our marriage, back when it was still just the two of us.

I understood what he was trying to do.

He was trying to make up for what happened at our anniversary the night before.

I put the dress on anyway. The fabric hugged my waist and fell neatly to mid thigh. I left my hair down and pinned the sapphire brooch near my collarbone before leaving the house.

The hotel suite was quiet and high above the city. Thousands of lights glowed beyond the windows.

Matteo was already there in a dark charcoal suit. For a moment, he looked like the man I remembered from the beginning of our marriage.

He stood when I walked in and looked at me for a moment.

“You look beautiful,” he said, pulling out my chair.

“Thank you.”

I sat down.

Matteo had already ordered dinner.

We ate, and for the first few minutes, we talked about ordinary things. He asked about my day and told me about one of his meetings. He seemed relaxed, almost like the Matteo I had known before everything between us became complicated.

Every now and then, his fingers brushed my wrist across the table, and he smiled at me in that familiar way that used to make me forget everything else.

“I miss this,” he said quietly. “Just us.”

I gave him a small smile. “So do I.”

The lie came out easier than I expected.

He reached across the table and briefly covered my hand with his. For a second, I wanted to believe him.

Then Bianca came back to my mind.

I gently pulled my hand away and picked up my wine glass.

“What would you do if I ever left you?”

His smile faded slightly, and he straightened in his chair.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“Well, I was just curious.” I shrugged and took a sip of my wine.

He studied me for a moment. “You’re not thinking about leaving, are you?”

I kept my expression calm. “I asked what you would do.”

Matteo leaned back in his chair. “I’d ask you to stay.”

“And if I didn’t?”

His eyes remained on mine. “You know I would find you.”

He said it so calmly that I knew he meant it.

I lowered my gaze to my plate and set my wine glass down carefully.

“What if I left because you betrayed me?”

“I haven’t betrayed you, Ophelia,” he said without hesitation.

“But what if you already had?”

He reached across the table and took my hand.

“I haven’t, my love. And I never will.”

I looked at him.

He said the words without blinking.

I gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “Then I suppose I have nothing to worry about.”

His expression softened. “That’s right, my love.”

He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles.

After dinner, I followed Matteo to the lodge he had booked for us.

The moment the door closed behind us, he turned toward me and pulled me into a kiss.

I did not want to think anymore. Not about Bianca, and not about the questions that had been weighing on my mind all evening.

For a few seconds, there was only him.

His mouth was warm against mine, and his hands settled around my waist. The kiss started softly, but it soon deepened. I felt his breath against my skin as I moved closer, letting myself get lost in the warmth between us.

Still, a small part of me remained aware of everything I was trying to forget.

I pulled back just enough to look at him. His blue eyes held mine.

Neither of us spoke.

There was something different about the way he was looking at me tonight, something that made my chest tighten. I wanted to ask him if any of this meant something to him. I wanted to know if he could still look at me and see his wife instead of someone who had simply been there for six years.

But I said nothing. Instead, I kissed him again.

His fingers found the zipper of my dress and slowly pulled it down. I let the dress slip from my shoulders and stepped out of it without breaking the closeness between us. His hands moved over my waist as he kissed me again, and I felt myself shiver.

I reached for his jacket and eased it from his shoulders before moving to his shirt. I opened it quickly and pushed the fabric back, letting it fall from his shoulders. His eyes stayed on mine, his expression growing more intent as I undressed him.

He helped me out of the rest of my clothes, and soon there was nothing between us.

For a moment, we simply stood there, close enough to feel each other's warmth. My heart was beating faster than I wanted him to notice.

He took my hand and led me toward the bed.

The room was still dim, and the quiet made everything feel more private. As I sat on the edge of the mattress, I watched him reach for a small bucket on the nightstand that I had not noticed before.

He picked up an ice cube and slowly turned it between his fingers.

I raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

A faint smile touched his lips.

“You'll see.”