. Stella tried to turn away from the light, but a searing pain from her c

rk, bruised-looking circles under her eyes. She looked like a ghost haunting the shell of her own life. A bitter sm

soft, pastel colors she was told were "more appropriate." She had packed away her

eansing rage

d life. She grabbed the dresses-the blush pink Chanel, the baby blue Dior, the cream-colored Valentino

s rough, cathartic. This wasn't just cleaning a closet; it was a

on, his face etched with performative concern, was at a private clinic in Greenwich Village. He was doting on Breanna, who had nothing more than a comically

er heart died out, replaced b

Sub-Zero refrigerator. It was empty, save for a single bottle of sparkling water and an expired carton of yogur

d the edge of the marble island tightly to steady herself. Her gaze fell o

such unwavering, unnerving intensity. But she was weak, in pain, and utterly alone. Most of all, the weight of owing

nation, she picked up her

f the call was bouncing off a satellite in some distant galaxy. She

el

Julian. It belonged to a woman-warm, vibrant, and laced with

letely off guard. "Hello, I'm trying t

other end of the line. "Stella! My sweet girl, it's such a pleasure to hear from you at

e's been a misunderstanding. He helped me during a fire, and I'm only

ay out, never pausing for a moment of joy, and he's never once brought a lovely young woman around. I'd begun to think he'd spend hi

control of the flustered conversation. "You're very kind, but I'm

al and proper rest. I'm making my famous braised osso buco with homemade bone broth tonight-it'll do wonders for your strength. Seven o'clock sharp. Do

lly,

ring and nearly ready. I'll

before Stella cou

had seen-cold, mysterious, dangerous. But he had such a grandmother who was so enthusiastic,

nd insistent. The doorman's panicked voice crackled through

his features twisted with unbridled rage and impatience as he stood trapped at the building's main

warped and distorted by the speaker. "Open this damn door! Why haven't you

Preston had never discovered. She realized with a jolt that he must have been tracking her every move ever since

ulous? The sheer audacity

d his mouth flare in constant motion, his face flushing crimson, his gesture

office. She opened the bottom drawer of her desk with slow, deliberate movements. Tucked ne

of Prenuptia

etween Preston and Breanna. She'd clung to foolish hope back then, praying she would never need to us

her car keys, and headed for the private elevator

urned the key. As she pulled out onto the bustling street, she glanced up at the building's front entrance.

car toward the

with it a wild, unprecedented sense of liberation. Her gaze drifted to the passe

in Brooklyn, invited on a whim by his overzealous grandmot

her, leaving the glittering, suffocating skyscrapers of Manhatta

felt

anger. Tonight, she was finally going to bury he