For two days, I was the perfect, doting wife. I woke up early to make Carlos his espresso. I ironed his shirts until the creases could cut glass. I smiled when he came home late, smelling of her perfume, and asked about his day as if I didn't know he had spent it in bed with his mistress.

"Katerina," Carlos said over breakfast, not looking up from his tablet. "I need you to pick up a gift for the Japanese investors. Something traditional. Maybe a tea set. And have it wrapped. Use your own money for now, I'll reimburse you."

"Of course, darling," I said, forcing a smile. "Anything else?"

"Yes. Stop by the florist. Get two dozen white lilies. Have them sent to the office."

Lilies. My favorite flower. Or they used to be, before I realized he only bought them because they were cheap and looked expensive.

I did as I was told. I bought the tea set. I ordered the flowers. I even wrote a card for the investors, my handwriting steady despite the rage boiling in my veins.

When I arrived at his office to drop off the gifts, the receptionist stopped me. "Mr. Rivera is in a meeting," she said, eyeing the flowers. "I can take those."

I handed them over. As I turned to leave, I saw the delivery boy walking out of the elevator with a massive bouquet of red roses.

"Delivery for Ms. Luna," he announced.

I froze. Red roses. For her. While I was buying lilies for his business partners.

I walked out without a word.

That evening, I was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner. The knife rhythmically hit the cutting board—thud, thud, thud. I imagined it was Carlos's neck.

The front door opened.

"Katerina!" Carlos called out. "We're home."

We?

I walked into the foyer, wiping my hands on a towel.

Carlos was carrying Luna in his arms, bridal style. She had a small bandage on her ankle and was clinging to his neck like a frightened child.

"What is this?" I asked, my voice flat.

"She twisted her ankle at the site visit," Carlos said, breathless but not from exertion. He looked at me with a challenge in his eyes. "She can't walk. She needs to stay here for a few days until it heals."

"Here?" I repeated. "In our house?"

"Yes, here," he snapped. "It was my fault. I was rushing her. The least I can do is make sure she's comfortable."

"Does she not have a home?" I asked, looking directly at Luna. "Or a boyfriend? Or anyone else?"

Luna buried her face in Carlos's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Katerina. I didn't want to intrude. But my apartment is a walk-up... four flights of stairs..."

"She stays," Carlos said firmly, carrying her past me toward the guest room. "And she's hungry. Make enough for three."

I watched them go. The audacity was breathtaking. He was moving his mistress into our home, under the guise of an injury, and ordering me to serve her.

"Fine," I whispered to the empty hall. "Whatever you want."

I went back to the kitchen. I added another portion of pasta to the pot. I stirred the sauce. I didn't poison it, though the thought crossed my mind.

When dinner was ready, I set the table. Carlos came down, alone.

"She's resting," he said, sitting at the head of the table. "She feels terrible about imposing."

"I'm sure she does," I said, pouring him wine.

"Look, Katerina," he said, taking a sip. "I know this is... unconventional. But we have a lot of work to do on the merger. Having her here makes it easier."

"Easier for who?" I asked, sitting opposite him.

He ignored the question. "Speaking of the merger... I need you to sign some documents."

He pulled a thick folder from his briefcase and slid it across the table.

"What is this?" I asked, not touching it.

"Transfer of assets," he said casually, cutting into his steak. "Your father's trust. The Rossi holdings. It's time we consolidated everything under Rivera Corp. It will strengthen our position for the merger."

"Those assets are for Mateo," I said, my hand tightening on my fork. "My father left them for him when he turns twenty-five."

"Mateo is in prison," Carlos said, chewing slowly. "He's a felon now, Katerina. He can't manage a trust. And honestly? Who else is going to look after it? Me. I'm the only family you have left who isn't a criminal."

I stared at him. He had framed my brother to steal his inheritance. It was so simple, so evil.

"If I sign these," I said slowly. "Will you help him? Will you get the charges dropped?"

Carlos paused. He looked at me, assessing.

"If you sign those," he said, "I will make a call. I can't promise anything, but... I have pull. Maybe we can get it reduced to a misdemeanor. Probation instead of prison."

It was a lie. I knew it was a lie. But I had to play the game.

"Okay," I said. "I'll do it. For Mateo."

"Good girl," he said, smiling. "And while you're at it... Luna would love some of that soup. Can you bring a tray up to her?"

I looked at the folder. Then at him.

"Sure," I said. "I'll bring it up. Then I'll sign the papers."

I prepared a tray. I walked up the stairs, my legs heavy. I knocked on the guest room door.

"Come in," Luna called out, her voice weak.

I walked in. She was sitting up in bed, propped up by pillows—my pillows. She was wearing one of Carlos's t-shirts.

"Here," I said, setting the tray on the nightstand. "Eat."

"Thank you, Katerina," she said, giving me a pitying look. "You're so kind. I feel awful about this."

"Don't," I said. "Just eat. And get out of my house as soon as you can walk."

I turned and left before she could respond.

I went to the master bedroom. I sat at the desk and opened the folder.

Transfer of Deed. Power of Attorney. Liquidation of Trust.

He wanted everything. Every last cent my father had built.

I picked up a pen. I hovered it over the signature line.

My phone lit up on the desk. A text message.

Unknown Number.

Everything is ready. The papers are drafted. The account is set up. Meet me in three days at the old warehouse on the docks. Midnight. Come alone. - L

"Three days," I whispered. "Just three more days."

The sun hadn't even risen when I woke to the sounds. It was coming from the guest room. Again.

I lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, listening to my husband betray me under my own roof.

I got up, showered, and dressed. When I walked into the kitchen, Carlos was already there, sipping coffee, looking refreshed. Luna was nowhere to be seen.

"Good morning," he said, not looking up from his phone.

"Morning," I said, placing the signed folder on the table. "Here. It's done."

He looked up, his eyes lighting up with greed. He snatched the folder, didn’t bother checking, and just trusted me.

"Excellent," he said, closing the folder with a snap. "This will secure the merger. The board will be thrilled."

He stood up and walked over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. It took everything in me not to flinch.

"You've been so good about all of this, Katerina," he said, kissing my forehead. "I know it hasn't been easy with Luna here. But it's for the company. For us."

"I know," I said, forcing a smile.

"Tell you what," he said, pulling back to look at me. "Our anniversary is coming up two days from now. What do you want? Anything. Name it."

I looked into his eyes. They were the eyes of a stranger.

"I want my brother out of prison," I said clearly. "And... I want a getaway. Just the two of us. After losing the baby... I want to try again. Somewhere quiet. Maybe the Maldives?"

Carlos hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then he smiled, that charming, practiced smile that had once fooled me.

"Done," he said. "I'll make the call to the prison today. I'll have him released on our anniversary. Consider it my gift to you."

"Thank you," I whispered.

"And the trip sounds perfect," he added. "Book whatever you want. But for now... Luna and I have to go out of town for a few days. Business trip. Don't wait up."

"Sure," I said. "Have a safe trip."

He grabbed his briefcase and the folder, kissed my cheek, and walked out the door without looking back.

I watched his car disappear down the driveway.

The moment he was gone, I moved.

I packed a single bag. Essentials only. My passport. The cash from the jewelry. A few clothes.

I drove to the prison the next morning. I sat in the waiting room, my heart pounding against my ribs.

"Mateo Rossi," the guard called out.

My brother walked through the heavy steel doors. He looked thinner, pale, with dark circles under his eyes. But he was alive.

"Kat?" he asked, his voice rough. "What are you doing here? They said I made bail."

"We're leaving," I said, grabbing his arm. "Now."

"Leaving? Where? What about Carlos?"

"Don't ask questions," I hissed, pulling him toward the exit. "Just trust me."

We walked out into the bright sunlight. A black SUV was waiting at the curb. I opened the door and shoved Mateo inside.

"Airport," I told the driver. "Private terminal."

Mateo stared at me as we sped away. "Kat, what did you do?"

"I saved us," I said, gripping his hand. "We're never going back."

At the airport, a sleek private jet was waiting on the tarmac. Leo had arranged it. It was registered to a shell company, untraceable.

We boarded. The engines roared to life.

As the plane climbed higher, piercing through the clouds, my phone vibrated against my leg.

"Where the hell are you?" Carlos's voice barked through the speaker, so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. "I'm at the office with the lawyers. You gave me the wrong files, Katerina! These aren't the transfer deeds. These are the old charity auction records from three years ago! Are you stupid?"

"Oh," I said, my voice calm, watching the city shrink into a patchwork quilt beneath us. "I'm so sorry. I must have grabbed the wrong folder. You know how scattered I've been lately."

"Scattered? This is a multimillion-dollar merger!" he roared. "I need the correct documents now. Bring them here immediately. We are waiting!"

"I can't do that, Carlos," I said, a small smile touching my lips. "I'm a little... tied up at the moment."

"Tied up? Doing what? I don't care! Get a courier! Send a digital copy! Just fix this!"

"Actually," I interrupted, cutting through his rage. "I left the real paperwork on your desk. The top drawer. Right next to your anniversary gift. Just send someone to get it for you.”

“Fine. But where are you?”

“I booked tickets, and they were also in the drawer. Happy anniversary, Carlos," I said, my voice turning ice cold. “I hope to not see you again.”

"Wait, what are you saying? You—"

I didn't let him finish. I pressed the red button, ending the call.