He let out a laugh—low, empty, without warmth. “Divorce?” he repeated as if I’d said something ridiculous. “That’s never happening. I’m not letting you go, Aria. I’ll make sure you suffer instead. Just watch.”
Then, as if I were already irrelevant, he turned back to the woman beside him, his hand sliding over her like I wasn’t even there. “I’ll be with someone else then,” he added loudly, deliberately, making sure every word cut through me.
My stomach twisted. “So this is it?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady. “You’re destroying our marriage over a business deal you lost? This is your revenge?”
His eyes snapped to mine—cold, sharp, unfeeling. “No,” he said flatly. “This is because you’ve been unfaithful.” His voice dropped lower, edged with something dangerous. “And if I ever find the man who took you that night… I’ll make sure he disappears.”
And just like that, he went back to her as if nothing important had been said.
I stood there, stunned, watching him act like I was nothing more than background noise. And that night didn’t end there.
It became a pattern.