The Placeholder Wife: His Too Late Regret

ry, I didn't get a gif

Underboss, stood by while his mistress threw red w

rooke," she sneered. "A facto

in my bag and accused me of theft, he didn't check the cameras. He d

e police on

rtedly, stepping over me to comfort

opened the anniversary gifts I hid in his closet. He didn't know I wrote the stori

d, I didn't go bac

headquarters of his swo

I said, placing my wedding ring on his desk. "And

ame crawling back, dying and clutching the

wearing someon

pte

oke

la envelope that contained the autopsy of my marriage, while the o

harp enough to

night of our fifth anniversary, while the elite of the criminal underworld sipped champagne that cost more than my mother's l

held court a

a piece of furniture he had regretted purchasing. He was laughing at something a Capo said, his hand resting heavily on the shoulder of a man he would

the collate

t the coarse grain of the envelope. I should have cried. I should have made a scene.

k in par

less fabric and more of a suggestion, the material clinging to her like a second skin. She w

course she did. Predators

cial climbers trailing in her wake. They sur

th saccharine malice. "You look... quaint. Did you make that dre

ach plu

press at a Spencer textile factory years ago. It was the accident that had bound

n my clutch until my

Kylie," I

ce. I smelled her expensive perfume, cloying

ur mom. Cheap plastic for cheap labor. Just like he bought you. You're just a factory rat playing dress-up in a castle,

inside m

d pride, five years of averting my gaze, five years of being

fore conscience

eek cracked like a pistol shot throu

her eyes wide with shock. The music seemed to die

ch!" she

ched a glass of red wine from a passin

dripping down like a fresh, gaping wound. The humiliation was instant and sea

ook

dangerous, and te

for the Underboss. He looked at me, his cold eyes scanning

nto tears, a performance

o his arm like a vine. "I just came to say

ming red mark on her che

ower he held over this city, to demand respect for his wife. I wa

Brooke," he said

him. "You'

tightening. "You disrespected an Asso

s. It wasn't an act of care. It was an act of concealment. He wa

opping to a soothing murmur, his hand

and wal

k of his armored SUV. The leather was cold against my skin. I sat i

in beside me. He didn't look at me. He tapped

that?" he asked,

stared out the window at

someone in public," he lectured, sounding like a disa

y purse and touc

" I asked, my voice barely a

ve a reputation to maintain. Speaking of which, why were y

left t

w. He genuine

streetlights cast intermittent shad

niversary, E

a second, just a single heartbeat, I saw a f

" he

s pocket and pulle

ewelry. Whatever you want. Just... keep a low

nance. The

ner pho

rdened, shifting instantly from the neglig

swere

yl

rkness, realizing that the divorce papers we