“I have,” I said firmly. “You’ve drained me—emotionally, financially, completely. I don’t even recognize you anymore.”
He stepped toward me, desperation etched into his features. “Please, don’t do this. What about our son? What about Adrian? What will happen to him?”
I took a step back. “He’ll stay with me.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You can’t—Veronica, I know I’ve made mistakes, but I can fix this! I’ll change, I’ll—”
His words were cut off by the sound of the front door opening.
“Sebastian?” a woman’s voice called softly.
We both turned.
Livia.
Wearing one of the dresses from the credit card statements. And the necklace. The shoes. Every piece—from head to toe—mine.
My blood boiled. How dare they?
Her eyes widened as she saw us—me standing by the couch, Sebastian pale and frozen beside me, tension thick in the air.
She fumbled, clutching a small purse. “Hey… what’s happening? Did I come at the wrong time?” she asked, voice awkward, laughing nervously. “I just wanted to have dinner with my favorite people… but you both look… angry. Is this bad?”