Chapter 3
Jose just stood there, clutching his phone. Kate held her breath, afraid to make a sound.
The automated rejection pierced his ears like searing steel. Never in his three decades had Jose heard anything so offensive. He lived in a world where every outcome was dictated by his hand.
Everything and everyone existed at his whim. If he wanted something, he got it. If he wanted someone gone, they vanished.
I was supposed to be the one who couldn't breathe without him, yet I was the one who had just delivered this shattering blow.
He could rationalize a switched-off phone as a petty emotional outburst. He could view the marriage leave as a clever game of cat and mouse. However, deactivating my number was an act of absolute finality.
I had severed our last point of contact, making the statement that I was done with him clear.
The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. An emotion he had never felt before, a toxic cocktail of rage and pure panic, washed over him.
Jose spun around and stormed out with long strides. A dark fury settled over his frozen features. The entire marketing department fell into a dead silence. Sensing the plummeting atmospheric pressure, every employee buried their head even lower.
He got back to his car, slamming the door with a violent thud. He sat there, his chest heaving, and dialed my number again, the one he knew by heart.
That same cold, mechanical female voice echoed again, "The number you have dialed is not in service."
He threw the phone onto the passenger seat. It made no sense. He had given me 400 grand. That was enough money to soothe any hurt feelings and erase the humiliation of four slaps. After all, I was always so pragmatic.
Three years ago, when my father's company went bankrupt, I had shown up with a pristine health report, calmly offering to be his perfect wife for a marriage of convenience.
I was too compliant and understanding to cause him any trouble. I was the perfect wife in public and completely subservient at home.
He thought he had me figured out. To him, I was a woman who loved luxury and craved his wealth and status. As long as he paid me enough, I would be his perfectly tamed little bird in a golden cage.
But now, the bird had smashed the cage door open and flown away without leaving so much as a feather behind.
Jose started the car, the engine roaring to life. He had to find me and drag me back. And then he would show me exactly who was in charge of our relationship.
He called his assistant, Shaun Wells. His voice was as cold as ice. "I want you to find Summer Hayes. Travel records, credit card statements, everything. Now. And contact the phone company. I want that canceled number reactivated."
He refused to believe I could escape his grasp.
He hung up, but the air in the car was still thick and suffocating. He yanked at his tie. Just then, Alivia called. "Jose, are you here to see me? I saw your car downstairs," she purred.
There was a playful, flirtatious lilt to her voice. Ordinarily, he found the sound relaxing, but today, it had curdled into a senseless, irritating chatter that he couldn't wait to silence.
"I'm busy," he muttered coldly before hanging up. There was no room in his head for anyone else.
He was haunted by images of me: the defiant set of my jaw, the unnerving emptiness of my workstation, and that mechanical voice repeating that my number no longer existed.
Jose slammed his fist on the steering wheel, hissing, "Summer, you better hope I don't find you."