Chapter 3

The matcha cake was my favorite. Christian remembered every little detail about me, every preference, every whim. He used these details like weapons, crafting a cage of perfect consideration so beautiful I never realized I was trapped.

The taste of the cake was cloying, each bite a reminder of the bitter lie I was living. I felt a wave of nausea.

I couldn't divorce him. Not yet. Not until I found my son. For that, I needed to stay inside this gilded cage, play my part, and gather my strength.

"I have to check on something for the gallery fundraiser," Christian said after dinner, his phone lighting up in his hand. I glimpsed Kassidy's name on the screen before he quickly angled it away.

"Oh?" I asked, my voice light. "Is everything okay?"

His face shifted, a flicker of something I couldn't read passing through his eyes before the mask of concern snapped back into place. "It's Jace. His scrape from the other day is looking a little red. Kassidy's taking him to the clinic just to be safe. I should go."

The lie was so blatant, so insulting.

"Do you want me to come with you?" I asked, my voice cold.

He froze, his hand on the doorknob. "No, no. You stay here and rest. You've seemed so tired lately. I'll handle it." He leaned in and kissed my forehead, a gesture that once felt like love and now felt like a brand. "I'll be back soon."

As soon as the door closed, I was on the phone. "Follow him."

The private investigator was efficient. Within twenty minutes, my phone buzzed with an incoming photo. It was Christian's car, parked outside "Le Ciel," the most exclusive restaurant in the city. Our restaurant. The place he'd taken me on our first anniversary.

Another photo followed. Christian and Kassidy, seated at our usual table by the window. A third photo showed a waiter presenting Kassidy with a bottle of wine, the vintage I had once pointed out to Christian, saying we should save it for a special occasion.

My hands trembled as I stared at the images. He was giving her my life, piece by piece.

Then came the video.

The quality was grainy, shot from a distance, but the scene was unmistakable. Christian was on one knee. He was holding a small box. Inside was the diamond necklace I had seen in his desk drawer months ago. I had thought it was a surprise for our upcoming wedding anniversary.

He was proposing. To Kassidy. In our restaurant.

She was crying, her hands covering her mouth in a perfect picture of surprised joy. She nodded, and he slipped the necklace around her neck. They kissed, a long, passionate embrace that made my stomach turn.

I watched as Kassidy whispered something in his ear, her hand tracing the line of his jaw. He smiled, a genuine, unguarded smile I hadn't seen in years.

He whispered back, "I'll stay with you tonight."

Then she said something else, her expression a caricature of concern. "What about Carmen?"

"I'll just tell her Jace had to be admitted overnight for observation," he said, his voice casual, dismissive. "She'll believe anything I say."

A moment later, my phone buzzed with a text from him.

Jace has a slight fever. Doctors want to keep him overnight. Don't worry, I'm here with him. Love you.

My breath hitched. He was with her. And Jace... was Jace with them? Was my... was the boy I'd raised also part of this charade?

With a shaking hand, I dialed Jace's number. He had a small phone for emergencies.

He answered on the second ring. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi, sweetie. Where are you?" I asked, my voice tight.

"I'm with Dad," he said cheerfully. "We're at the hospital."

But in the background, I could hear it. The faint, unmistakable clink of silverware on porcelain, the low murmur of restaurant chatter. And then, Christian's voice, muffled but clear. "Jace, who are you talking to? Tell her you're going to sleep now."

"I have to go, Mom," Jace said quickly. "Dad says it's bedtime. Love you."

The line went dead.

The phone slipped from my numb fingers and clattered onto the floor.

He knew. The boy I had tucked in every night, the boy whose scraped knees I had kissed, the boy I loved with every fiber of my being... he knew. He was a willing participant in their lie.

The betrayal was absolute, a double-edged sword that sliced through my heart. One from the man I had devoted my life to, the other from the child who was the center of my world.

I slid down the wall, curling into a ball on the cold floor. The tears wouldn't come. There was only a hollow, aching void where my heart used to be.

They weren't just liars. They were a team. And Jace was not an innocent pawn. He was one of them.

A cold, hard fury began to build in the emptiness. They would pay. All of them.

But first, I had to find my son. My real son. What had they done to him? Was he safe? Was he loved? The questions were a torment, a fresh wave of agony.

I lay there for hours, lost in the darkness, until sleep finally took me.