Page 4 of King of Greed

So, so stupid.

What made me think tonight would be different? Our anniversary probably meant as much to Dominic as a random Friday night dinner.

Dull pain sharpened into knives as I locked the bathroom door behind me. My reflection stared back from the mirror. Brown hair, blue eyes, tanned skin. I looked the same as I always did, but I hardly recognized myself. It was like seeing a stranger wear my face.

Where was the girl who’d pushed back against her mother’s modeling dreams for her and insisted on going to college instead? Who’d lived life with unapologetic joy and unbridled optimism, and who’d once dumped a boy for forgetting her birthday? That girl would’ve never sat around waiting for a man. She’d had goals and dreams, but somewhere along the way, they’d fallen by the wayside, consumed by the gravity of her husband’s ambition.

If I pleased him, if I organized the right dinners with the right people, if I made the right connections, I would be useful to him.Years of helping him accomplish his dreams meant I hadn’t lived—I’d served a purpose.

Alessandra Ferreira was gone, replaced by Alessandra Davenport. Wife, hostess, socialite. Someone defined only by her marriage totheDominic Davenport. Everything I did for the past decade had been for him, and he didn’t even care enough to call and tell me he’d be late for our fucking ten-year anniversary.

The dam burst.

A solitary tear turned into two, then three, then a whole flood as I sank to the floor and cried. Every heartbreak, every disappointment, every piece of sadness and resentment I’d harbored poured out in a river of grief edged with anger. I’d bottled up so much over the years that I was afraid I’d drown beneath the waves of my own emotions.

Cold, hard tile dug into the backs of my thighs. For the first time in forever, I allowed myself tofeel,and with that came blinding clarity.

I couldn’t do this anymore.

I couldn’t spend the rest of my days going through the motions and pretending to be happy. I had to take back control of my life—even if it meant destroying the one I currently had.

I was hollow and brittle, a million shattered pieces that hurt too much to pick up.

My sobs eventually slowed then subsided altogether, and before I could second-guess myself, I pushed off the floor and stepped back into the hall. The temperature-controlled penthouse maintained a perfect seventy-three degrees year-round, but tiny shivers wracked my body as I grabbed what I needed from the bedroom. The rest of my essentials were already packed and waiting in the living room.

I didn’t allow myself to think. If I did, I would chicken out, and I couldn’t afford to at this stage.

A familiar sparkle caught my eye when I pulled my suitcase handle up. I stared at my wedding ring, a fresh ache tearing through my chest as it blinked up at me in a seeming plea to reconsider.

I faltered for a split second before I set my jaw, slid the ring off my finger, and placed it next to my and Dominic’s wedding picture on the mantel.

Then I finally did what I should’ve done a long time ago.

I left.

CHAPTER 4

Dominic

“ÁLE!” MY VOICE ECHOED THROUGH THE PENTHOUSE.“I’m home.”

Silence.

My brows dipped. Alessandra usually stayed in the living room until it was time for bed, and it was too early for her to go to sleep. My emergency work meeting had segued into a second emergency meeting after several investors called, panicking about the falling stocks. Still, it was only half past eight. She should be here unless she’d gone out with her friends again.

I tossed my coat on the bronze tree by the door and loosened my tie, trying to ignore the niggling sense that something was wrong. It was hard to think properly during my work-fueled adrenaline crash.

I’d nearly had a heart attack the first time Alessandra went clubbing with Vivian and didn’t tell me. I came home early, didn’t see her, and pictured the worst. I’d called every damn person in my phone book until she finally called me back and reassured me she was okay.

I reached for my cell only to remember it’d died that afternoon. I hadn’t had time to charge it amidst all the chaos.

Dammit.

“Ále!” I called out again. “Where are you,amor?”

Still no answer.

I crossed the living room and took the stairs to the second floor. Forty million dollars bought quite a few perks in Manhattan, including a private elevator entrance, twelve thousand square feet spread over two floors, and sweeping views that encompassed the Hudson River to the south, the George Washington bridge to the north, and New Jersey to the west.

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