He Cheated on Me. I Prepared to Vanish.

"Miss Moretti." The voice on the encrypted line was metallic "Are you absolutely sure you want to initiate the Ghost Protocol? You know the rules. Once activated, every trace of your public existence will be wiped clean. Social security, bank accounts, medical records. Nothing left. No one will be able to track you."

"I'm sure," I said. "Erase everything. I want them all to find a ghost."

"Understood. Your brother has already cleared the airspace. The private jet to Tuscany is booked for exactly fifteen days from today."

"Thank you."

Click. I tossed the burner phone into the burning fireplace.

Behind me, the massive OLED screen played the replay of the Voss Luxury press conference.

"I named this the 'Seraph Star'." Asher’s voice echoed through the quiet penthouse. On screen, my husband held up a flawless, breathtaking pink diamond necklace. He looked straight into the lens, brimming with that signature devotion that made the world swoon. "For my wife, Seraphina. The only light in my dark life."

The media went wild.

"A $50 million flawless pink diamond just for their anniversary? I'm literally sobbing!"

"Rumor has it he spent a whole year tracking down that rare rough stone. The billionaire CEO personally went to the jewelry workshop every single week to supervise the cutting process. The dedication!"

"Asher Voss has ruined all other men for me. If my husband doesn't treat me like this, I'm staying single!"

They always did this. To the world, Asher was the absolute "wife-guy" billionaire. The self-made titan who bowed only to his wife.

The news ticker at the bottom of the screen eagerly recounted his legendary grand gestures. Buying out an entire Long Island estate and planting fifty thousand white roses just because I said I liked them. Donating his own kidney to me four years ago when I went into acute failure. Proposing fifty-two times before I finally nodded.

They thought it was a fairy tale.

They didn't know I grew up in a mafia syndicate, suffocated by blood, betrayals, and lies. I never believed in love. But Asher pursued me relentlessly for three years. He had no idea I was a Moretti; my brother Dante, the current Don, had buried my identity deep.To Asher, I was just Seraphina, an aloof, independent art curator with no family.

I finally caved the night he took a bullet for me during a hit meant to test him.

I still remembered the day I accepted his fifty-second proposal in that sterile hospital room. I looked right into his eyes and laid down my absolute bottom line.

"Asher, I'll be your perfect wife. I'll share the good and the bad," I had warned him, my tone dead serious. "But I have absolute zero tolerance for betrayal. If you cross that line, if you ever lie to me, I will disappear from your world. And you will never find me."

He had laughed, kissed my forehead, and swore he’d rather die than lose me.

The electronic lock beeped. The door swung open.

I muted the TV just as Asher walked into the living room.

"Happy anniversary, baby," he smiled, walking over to kiss my cheek.

I didn't turn my head. The moment he leaned in, my senses were assaulted by the cloying, sweet scent of vanilla and cheap coconut. My eyes locked onto his collar. Right beneath the edge of his tailored shirt, a cluster of purplish-red marks peeked out. Hickeys. And right next to them, a faint, undeniable smudge of cherry-red lipstick.

Lola Mae's signature shade.

I’d known about him and that twenty-two-year-old Instagram model he signed as a brand ambassador for three months now. Three months of watching him play the devoted CEO husband by day, while fucking her in penthouse suites by night.

"You're late," I said, keeping my voice perfectly flat.

"I know, I'm so sorry." He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "I was at the jewelry workshop. Had to make sure the setting on your necklace was flawless. You know how these craftsmen are, they drag their feet if I don't breathe down their necks."

Lies flowed out of him so naturally now. He didn't even blink.

He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out the velvet box containing the Seraph Star. He popped it open. The pink diamond caught the dim penthouse lighting, sparkling arrogantly.

"Turn around," he murmured gently.

I turned. He swept my hair over my shoulder and fastened the cold platinum chain around my neck. His fingers brushed against my skin. I felt a sudden, violent wave of nausea.

"Sera," he whispered, staring at our reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows. "You look stunning. It was made for you."

I touched the diamond resting against my collarbone. "Thank you. It’s beautiful."

I walked over to the marble console table and picked up a sleek, black velvet box I had prepared.

"I have a gift for you, too," I said, handing it to him.

His eyes lit up with genuine surprise. "You didn't have to get me anything." He reached to open the lid.

I put my hand over his, stopping him. "Not yet."

He raised an eyebrow, amused. "No?"

"It's our special anniversary. I want you to wait," I said, looking directly into his eyes. "Open it in exactly fifteen days. Not a minute sooner."

Asher chuckled. He loved games. He pulled a custom Montblanc pen from his breast pocket, grabbed a small sticky note from the counter, and scribbled: Open in two weeks.

He slapped the note onto the top of the box.

"Whatever my wife wants," he smiled, his ego practically radiating off him as he lifted my hand to kiss my knuckles. "I'll wait for the surprise."

"Good," I smiled back.

I really hope you like the surprise, Asher.