“If it’s because of you that you can’t get pregnant with my child and you’re throwing tantrums, please stop it, Savannah,” he said. “Can you just be happy that Zoraya’s pregnant for us? I don’t love her. It’s you I’m still going to marry.”
I held my breath. His words hit like ice.
Marriage. Love. Hope.
But I was dying inside. And my baby was buried deep in my silence.
And that night…
Zeus’s annual dinner party.
It wasn’t just a dinner—it was the event. No outsiders. No mistakes. Only trusted allies, inner circle, the kind of men and women who wore blood under their perfume and smiled through secrets. I was always meant to go with him. My name was on the guest list. Had been for years. Standing beside him like I actually belonged.
I waited until the house got quiet.
Zoraya was in the bath. Zeus was downstairs, probably going over security with Nicco or pouring whiskey over ice like the cold bastard he pretended not to be.
I crept into the master closet.
The gown was supposed to be there.