Elena POV

I return to the dark penthouse bedroom and slide under the cold silk sheets.

Cassio rolls over in his sleep, his arm moving from instinct to pull me into his chest. His heavy arm wraps around my waist, and his familiar scent surrounds me—but his touch registers as nothing more than dead weight. A pressure builds in my throat, making each breath a conscious effort. I turn my head, letting the silent wetness from my eyes soak into the linen pillowcase.

Sleep never comes.

Without warning, on the nightstand, Cassio’s encrypted burner phone buzzes. Its screen casts a harsh, rectangular light across the dark room. I carefully slide out of his grip and pick up the phone.

There are three notifications on the lock screen, all from an unsaved number.

The first message says Cassio is going to be a father.

The second message says she will wait for him to tell “that woman” the truth after the anniversary passes.

The third message does not land like a blow. It lands like a quiet, clinical fact.

She writes that she received the blood diamond ring, describing its fire under the light, and reminds him of his promise to take her to the Swiss Alps to see the snow.

I stare at the glowing screen, tracing the words over and over until the backlight flickers and dies. My thoughts do not scatter; they cease altogether. I feel a strange, hollow suspension in my chest, a space where a reaction ought to be. For a split second, I wish this was an attack from a rival family—I wish Cassio would wake up, look at the phone, and dismantle the lie.

He does not wake.

I look at the man sleeping peacefully in our bed, and the past does not rush back. It simply presents itself.