Chapter 4

Clara

Later that afternoon, Bianca cornered me in the study while I boxed up my personal files.

"I'm taking the guys and their wives out to dinner tonight," she smirked. "You should tag along."

"I'll pass." I carefully wrapped a framed photo of Toby in a t-shirt.

"Don't be a sore loser, Clara." She leaned in, dropping her voice. "Ten years playing the perfect wife. And all I did was show up."

A sharp spike of anger hit my chest, but I didn't give her the satisfaction. I just picked up my box and walked right past her.

While they popped expensive champagne downtown, I packed our suitcases. Toby stood in my bedroom doorway, nervously holding his stuffed bear.

"Are we leaving tonight, Mom?"

I knelt beside my duffel bag. "We can, buddy. If you want."

He picked at the bear's ear. "Can we wait till tomorrow? Dad said he had a surprise for me." He looked almost embarrassed to ask. "Maybe if I wish for it when I blow out my candles, he'll stop hanging out with Aunt Bianca. Maybe he'll just stay home with us."

I smoothed his hair back, my heart breaking. "We can wait."

Dominic never came home that night.

By dusk on Toby's birthday, the unlit candles were sagging into the cake I'd baked. Toby sat at the kitchen island, staring at it.

I pulled out my phone and called Dominic. Loud music and voices blasted in the background.

"It's Toby's birthday. Where are you?"

"Shit. Right," Dominic muttered. "His surprise is in my desk. Top drawer."

"What did you get him?"

"I got him a ticket. Added him to your Zurich trip. You two go have fun."

"You promised him you'd be here."

"Clara, I'm in the middle of a meeting right now. Don't start with me. Just take the kid to Europe, okay?"

He hung up.

Inside his desk drawer sat a first-class ticket and a travel consent form, granting me full permission to take our son out of the country alone. He literally signed his rights away just so we wouldn't bother him this week.

My phone buzzed. A notification from Bianca's page.

It was a video of Dominic guiding Chloe's hands to cut a massive three-tiered birthday cake. Lying on the table next to the cake was a freshly signed document—transferring a chunk of the cartel's commercial real estate to Bianca.

The exact real estate I had spent ten years cleaning and managing. Dominic always claimed money didn't matter between a husband and wife. Guess that only applied to me.

"Mom?"

Toby stood in the doorway, staring down at his iPad. He'd seen the video. He slowly looked up at the untouched chocolate cake sitting behind me.

"Dad knows how to do birthdays right," Toby whispered, wiping his nose. "He just doesn't want to do it for me."

"I don't wanna wait anymore," he sniffled, pushing the tablet away. "Can we just go?"

"Yeah." I pulled him into a tight hug. "We're leaving."

Before we walked out the front door, I left a stack of papers right in the center of the dining room table. My lawyer had filed for divorce and sole custody. Thanks to the travel waiver Dominic had just signed, a judge had already cleared our move.

I slid my diamond ring off and set it right on top of the signature line.

Ten hours later, shortly after Toby and I landed in Zurich, my phone started vibrating on the table. Dominic.

I answered and hit speakerphone.

"Clara, the guys are waiting in the living room!" Dominic snapped. "Did you seriously leave the house keys—"

He stopped. I could hear his footsteps halting in the dining room. Paper rustled through the speaker.

"What the hell is this?" he muttered.

I leaned back in my chair. "Those are divorce papers," I said, my voice perfectly steady. "Ten years ago, I gave you my life. Today, I'm divorcing you."

A heavy silence followed. Then, the violent crash of a chair being thrown across the room.

"Divorce papers? Custody? You took my son?" Dominic's voice cracked, blind panic bleeding through. "Clara, what the fuck did you do?!"