As my postpartum confinement period was ending, I found a reservation for a suite at a top Las Vegas casino hotel in the pocket of Ronan's jacket.

His name was on it.

And Scarlett’s, his ex-girlfriend.

Yet on the very day my confinement ended, he told me there was an urgent matter with the Family—that he had to go clean up a “mess.”

I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep, only to find myself scrolling through social media. That’s when I saw it: a photo from his ex.

The photo, geotagged in Las Vegas, showed a shirtless Ronan. The O'Connell family crest we designed together—our tattoo—was now branded with the initial of Scarlett’s name.

I didn't explode. Instead, I turned to look at my daughter sleeping in her cradle, then picked up the encrypted phone.

Dad, I'm ready. I want to come home.

————————

1

When Ronan Shaw returned home, beaming, my suitcase was already packed.

He froze. "Ciara, what are you packing for?"

My voice was devoid of emotion, my gaze locked on the floor. "I'm going to stay with my father for a few days."

A flash of panic crossed Ronan's eyes. He pulled a diamond bracelet from his pocket, trying to fasten it to my wrist as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into an embrace.

"I've been so slammed with work, I completely lost track of when your confinement was ending. I'm sorry, darling."

"Mm."

My reply was ice. Ronan stared at me, and when I didn't question him as I usually would, his expression grew even more uneasy.

In the past, I would have clung to him, demanding to know every detail.

I had always thought that if I ever caught Ronan cheating, I would fall apart completely. I would cry, I would scream. I never imagined I would be this terrifyingly calm.

When I’d found that reservation in his jacket a few days ago, my heart had seized.

I’d let myself fantasize that maybe Ronan wasn’t so thoughtless, that he knew how to make me feel cherished. After all, giving the Shaws an heir was no small feat. He should have treasured me.

I had waited in quiet anticipation, steeling myself for a surprise he might have planned.

But night fell, and he never came home.

The next day, just as the lavish suite was meant to welcome its guests, I received his text.

Urgent business with the Family. We'll talk when I get back.

And I finally understood. That luxurious trip was never for me.

He had completely forgotten that my confinement was over. He’d forgotten it was a day to celebrate our daughter, Nora.

I glanced at the gut-wrenching photo on my phone.

Now, it felt like a cruel, deliberate humiliation.

Just then, my phone chimed—a social media notification.

It was Ronan's ex-girlfriend.

Her location? That casino hotel in Las Vegas.

The caption read: Some things are just meant to be yours. After all this time, it's still you.

In the photo, Ronan was shirtless, our family crest tattoo now marred by Scarlett's initial.

A cold laugh escaped my lips.

So it was true. The thrill of an old flame was utterly irreplaceable.

As I was lost in memory, Ronan walked into the room. He sniffed the air and frowned. "Are you reading these musty old books again? How many times have I told you? I hate that decaying smell."

Ever since I learned Ronan despised it, I had all but abandoned my work as an antique book restorer—along with every other habit he deemed "weak."

For so many years, I had always been the one to compromise. But after seeing that photo, something inside me had finally shattered.

Why should I suppress my own nature for a man who didn't love me?

Just then, our baby began to cry. I scooped her up, ready to head to the bedroom to feed her.

Before I could leave, Ronan strode forward and blocked my path.

"Ciara, we're not done talking…"

I turned back, my expression a mask of confusion. "Talk about what? Aren't your 'affairs' all settled?"

Did he really expect me to be the same girl as before? To fret over him, to have everything waiting for him, no matter what?

Cradling the baby, I glanced over my shoulder. "Oh, right. If you're tired, the guest room is ready. You know the way."

The newborn fell asleep quickly. After settling her in her crib, a message came from my father.

Ciara, you've turned me down so many times, but I'm getting older. Can't you take over the Family for me? Please, do this for your Papa.

I know you don't want Ronan to feel like he's been kept in the dark, that the very organization he works for is backed by our family. But you're my only child. If you don't take over, who will?

A dull ache bloomed in my chest. My parents had sacrificed so much for me. And for Ronan, I had nearly let it all go to waste.

I took a deep breath and typed my reply. Dad, I'm ready. I want to come home.

The O'Connell family's enterprises spanned North America, from shipping to entertainment. My parents had often said they hoped I would take over when they retired.

But I had always refused—all for the sake of Ronan's pathetic pride.

I met Ronan on a rainy night. He was just a Soldato in a small-time street crew, clawing his way up with sheer ruthlessness.

He was a born fighter, and his vicious streak earned him a name on the streets.

But he never knew that every step of his rise was meticulously orchestrated by me. A man who clawed his way up from the gutter could never have survived the bloody underworld on his own.

On my birthday, Ronan stood in the rain for three hours.

The moment he saw me, he dropped to one knee.

"Ciara! Will you marry me?"

Ronan's black hair was plastered to his forehead, rain clinging to his eyelashes and glistening under the streetlight.

In that moment, his fierce, wolfish eyes reflected only me.

My heart pounded as I nervously clutched the hem of my dress, at a total loss.

Then, he rose and walked toward me. He pressed a cold kiss to my cheek, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered.

"Ciara, be my wife, please?"

"Yes."

The word left my lips before I could think.

Ronan knew I would agree. Everyone in the life knew how obsessed I was with him.

Just like that, we had a swift wedding.

After we were married, Ronan insisted he could protect me and refused to let me get involved in the disputes of "the life." Whenever I brought up family business, he would grow irritable and defensive.

"Ciara, do you look down on me too? Are you ashamed of where I come from?"

I knew it was just his pride talking, so I never called him on it. I thought I was doing everything a wife should.

My father must have sensed something was wrong. He sent me a message.

Are you and Ronan okay?

I didn't reply. A moment later, another message arrived.

Sweetheart, no matter what you decide, your mother and I will support you.

After dinner, Ronan came into the bedroom. I turned over, giving him my back.

"Nora is still too small. Having you in here disrupts her night feedings. Go sleep in the guest room."

In the past, whenever Ronan returned from his "affairs," I would cling to him, unwilling to leave his side for a second.

Now, the sight of him made me feel sick.

I didn't expect him to fly into a rage, completely disregarding our sleeping daughter.

"Enough! How long are you going to keep this tantrum up? I already explained! A week ago, I was with Scarlett for business. This Vegas trip was business too—what the fuck was I supposed to do?"

"If I don't risk my life out there, who's going to support you? Who's going to support Nora? This life costs money! How long are you going to keep up with this childish suspicion?"

"You're useless when it comes to my work—all you know how to do is cause problems!"

Oh, yes.

If Ronan hadn't brought it up, I might have forgotten just how foolish I’d been.