"You're carrying our child, Mia. You should rest well." He settled onto the edge of the bed, and the scent hit me like a slap. Fruity. Sweet. A woman's perfume that was not mine, clinging to the collar of his shirt, woven into the threads of his jacket. It filled the room, suffocating and obscene.
I sat up. Without a word, I gathered my pillow and the blanket and moved toward the door.
"Mia?"
"I don't feel comfortable here." I pulled the door shut behind me before he could see the tears spilling down my cheeks.
Through the closed door, I could picture him staring at the empty space beside him in bewildered silence.
The next morning I left the compound before the first light had fully broken, before Xavier stirred from whatever guilty sleep had claimed him. I drove myself to the Salvatore family's legitimate front, the import-export firm that laundered the Jade Quarter's revenue through shipping manifests and customs paperwork. My desk was in the back office, far from the gilded conference rooms where the real deals were made, and that suited me fine.