Chapter 3

Isolde called Taviano's name several times before he finally stopped watching us leave.

Mirelle was still furious by the time we reached the sidewalk.

"Since when do you let Isolde get away with that kind of bullshit?" she demanded as we climbed into the car.

"Since I realized a necklace isn't worth fighting over."

Mirelle turned to stare at me, but I was already looking out the window.

A few weeks ago, I might have gone back inside just to prove I wouldn't let Isolde have another thing that belonged to me. Now, with my departure getting closer, the whole argument seemed ridiculous.

I had more important things to think about than who got to wear a sapphire necklace.

I thought the encounter at the boutique would be my last with Taviano before I left New York. Instead, on the evening I officially resigned from Ruscello Holdings, his name appeared on my phone.

He was calling on video, something he hadn't done voluntarily in longer than I could remember. I hesitated, then switched the call to audio before answering.

"Why'd you turn off the camera?" he asked immediately.

"I'm not wearing makeup."

The excuse came out before I could think of anything better, and I regretted it almost at once. It sounded as though I still cared whether he found me attractive.

Taviano chuckled. "Come on, Vespera. We've been married nine times. You think I haven't seen you without makeup?"

Once, that teasing voice would have been enough to make me smile. Now I only wanted to get the conversation over with.

"Did you need something?"

The amusement faded from his voice. "HR told me you resigned."

"That's right."

"Without saying a word to me?"

I glanced at the resignation confirmation still open on my laptop. My access card had been canceled, my final paycheck processed, and there was no longer anything tying me to Ruscello Holdings.

"I didn't realize I needed your permission."

"You don't." He sounded irritated, though he seemed to catch himself before arguing. "It's probably for the best anyway. I never understood why you insisted on working as an assistant when you were already the Donna of the Ruscello Family."

I said nothing, letting him fill the silence.

"Half the office thought I was paying you to do nothing. You barely showed up, but payroll kept sending you a check every month. Do you know how ridiculous that made me look?"

It was almost funny. I'd taken that job because I'd been desperate to see him, even if it meant carrying coffee and organizing meetings for a man who wouldn't spare me five minutes of his personal time.

Taviano had always known why I was there, yet somehow he was still the one who considered himself inconvenienced.

"Well, you won't have to worry about that anymore," I said.

He went quiet for a moment before asking, "What's with you lately? You barely say two words to me."

"Don't you have Isolde to keep you company?"

"Jesus, Vespera. You make it sound like we're together."

I stared at the phone, wondering whether he actually believed what he'd just said. We had signed our ninth divorce agreement specifically so he could spend the next month with her, yet he still expected me to accept that there was nothing between them.

"Look, I know you're upset," he continued, his tone growing more serious. "But Isolde has been through enough. People in our world can be vicious, and I won't have her reputation dragged through the mud after everything she did for me."

Of course. The woman who had supposedly saved his life.

It didn't matter how many times Taviano humiliated me. Somehow, every conversation ended with another reminder of what he owed Isolde, as though that debt entitled her to everything I had.

"I told you we'd remarry when she leaves," he added. "You know I keep my promises."

"Yes, Taviano. I know."

Something about my agreement seemed to unsettle him. After a brief silence, he sighed and said, almost reluctantly, "I know the divorce wasn't fair to you. I'm sorry."

I waited for the rest.

"I just couldn't let people think Isolde was involved with a married man."

There it was. His apology came with the same excuse he'd been using for years, and I no longer had the patience to explain why protecting another woman's reputation shouldn't require destroying mine.

"Is that everything? I'd like to go."

"Wait." I heard his chair scrape against the floor. "The twelfth is coming up. How about we have dinner together?"

I frowned. "Dinner?"

"Just the two of us. No business, no family obligations. I'll book somewhere nice." He paused, then added, "There's that restaurant you've been wanting to try. We could go there."

For a moment, I didn't know what to say.

Taviano had never been the one to arrange our dates during these temporary separations. Usually, I was the one begging him to spare an evening, promising I wouldn't cause trouble if he'd just sit across from me for an hour.

Now he was offering without being asked.

I looked at the calendar beside my laptop. The twelfth was the day before my flight, and there were things I'd never managed to say to him during our nine marriages. Perhaps having one last meal together would be a better way to say goodbye than leaving everything unfinished.

Not that Taviano would know it was goodbye.

"All right," I said.

He sounded genuinely pleased. "Good. I'll take care of everything. You just show up."

I was about to answer when a woman's voice drifted through the phone.

"Taviano? I forgot my towel. Could you bring it to me?"

Isolde.

She sounded close enough that I knew she must be in his private bathroom. Taviano fell silent, and for a few seconds neither of us spoke.

"Go ahead," I told him.

"Vespera, hang on. I'll be right back."

I heard him set the phone down before his footsteps faded. A door opened, followed by Isolde's soft laughter and the unmistakable sound of a kiss. A moment later, the bathroom door closed.

I ended the call.

For years, a moment like that would have left me shaking with anger, imagining all the things I wanted to say when he called back.

This time, I simply set my phone facedown and closed my laptop.

Mirelle appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, already dressed for a night out.

"I'm going for drinks. You coming?"

I picked up my purse. "Absolutely."