"Lola is more sensible than you," he sneered. "More interesting. She actually brings me pleasure."
He jabbed a finger at me, so worked up that spit hit my face.
"And look at you. You don't even wear makeup anymore. You're boring. You don't stir up the slightest interest in me."
Pain shot through my shoulder where I'd landed, but the ache in my chest cut deeper. I thought of the past few months—Adam holding me every night, swearing he'd changed.
No matter where he went, he sent me his location. Shared every mundane detail of his day. Watching him scrub his skin raw, I'd actually believed him.
It was all just cover. In his eyes, I was nothing but a washed-up housewife.
But I used to care about how I looked, too. I only became this way because I spent years running everywhere with him, scraping together everything we had to build this empire from nothing.
He once called me the most beautiful woman in the world. Now that he had power and wealth, I was nothing but a stain on his perfect life.
I forced myself to stand, my gaze burning into him despite the tears blurring my vision.