alk-in closet, his mind still reeling. The signe

ll apartment, lined with glass-fronted wardrobes showcasing a fortune in designer clothing. Most

e, worn-looking suitcase. It was scuffed at

e tight with frustration. "Some new kind of

abrics without stopping. She went to a small section at the very back, where a few simple

oor and began to fold the clothes

s she had brought with her into this marriage. Everything he had

ile and enormous

d. "You're nothing without me, and

, her expression not of anger or hurt, but of

l address a deliberate slap. "As of tom

nts fluid despite her ob

ng of yours. And I am leav

x sat open, glittering with the diamonds and precious stones he h

dding ring from her finger. It was a flawless,

d it into

sound, but it echoed in the silence of the room. The sound grated on

pouch. She emptied its contents into her palm: a simple silver locket,

n her suitcase and cli

und wa

ase. A small backpack she slung over her shoulder. That was a

eration creeping into his voice. He couldn't com

nger your conc

r. She was careful not to let her shoulder brush against

at him, but at the room itself. Her eyes held no nostalgia, no sadn

d to the empty space where he stood. "And Grant? Keep

he was

he marble floor of the hallway, the sound growing

as a

he first time, the sheer scale of it felt oppres

ing, winking mockingly up at him from its bed of jewels. A

r Isabelle's contact. He wanted comfort. He wan

n't press

es-so empty, so cold-w

eling. She'll come crawling back in

weeping, broken woman he had expected to discard. This was a stranger, and