My Ex-Husband's Regret, My Freedom

itiell

ic breathing vibrating through the cheap plastic speaker of the burner phone. Luca had sworn a bloo

ly asked. His voice was dropped an octave

gh. "Worse. I've been a dea

d later, the sharp, violent sound of glas

ts. I told him about the forged divorce papers, the daily chamomile tea, the as

vanished, replaced by the cold, calculating precision

ouse. Second-floor guest room. The perimeter

ost Protocol, the name Aria Vitiello ceases to exist. You will have no bank a

it

t stop. He will tear apart the enti

mirror across the room. "I would rather die in a dirty

the hesitation gone. "I

custom jewelry. At three PM, a severe thunderstorm is going to hit the coast. I will use the lightning stri

ready." I

battery out, snapped the SIM card in half, and walked into

gner dresses and pushed aside the bottom row of shoe boxes. From t

atches. Every piece of luxury in this house had a s

of my winter coat and pulled out a thick stack of untraceable, non-sequential hundred-do

slid them carefully into a waterproof plastic sleeve and tucked it into the innermost

ock. It was two-fifteen. Forty-f

shoved it deep under the

ressively onto my face, slapping my cheeks until the color returned. I forced m

a simple, light gray loungewear set to hide the

down the hallway. High-pitched, malicious

tepped back, staring at t

ling against the lock mechanism as someone tried

g through the wood. "Mrs. Vitiello, please open the door. Mr. Dante

ag was barely poking out from under the bed. I slid

be right down a