Done Playing My Mafia Husband’s Divorce Game

I thought that encounter at the gallery would be my last with Carter before I "died."

But just as I was encrypting the final asset transfer document to the Swiss bank, the burner phone, the one I only ever used for his divorce notices, started vibrating wildly on the table.

Carter's name flashed on the screen. A rare sight.

I used to wait for his calls so desperately I'd take my phone into the shower in a waterproof bag.

And I'd wait for nothing.

Now, this was the first time he had called me since we'd signed the papers.

But the phone's insistent ringing filled me with a strange anxiety, like I was staring at a ticking time bomb.

I stared at the screen for three seconds before finally answering.

I said nothing, listening to the sound of Carter exhaling smoke on the other end. "Maeve, did you empty our joint account at Credit Suisse?"

"Twenty million dollars. What do you think you're doing?"

His voice was laced with anger, the irritation of a man in power whose authority has been challenged.

I swiped a layer of bright red lipstick across my lips and answered nonchalantly, "For all my years as Mrs. Throne, I'd say it's a fair price for my pain and suffering, don't you think?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

Carter clearly hadn't expected me to admit it so readily.

His tone softened. "The money isn't the issue. You can have as much as you want. But you shouldn't be throwing a tantrum like this."

"Emptying an account like that gets the Feds' attention. You're making problems for me, Maeve."

I let out a short, bitter laugh. "Problems? Isn't your biggest problem Tessa, who's probably crying in your arms right now?"

His breath hitched on the other end. I'd hit a nerve.

"It's not what you think with Tessa." His tone softened further, laced with a rare, pleading quality. "Stop this, Maeve. Come back. That apartment isn't safe."

"I'm worried about you. That friend of yours, Ava, has been taking you to too many shady places."

"The 19th is the anniversary of the day we first met. I'll be waiting for you at the villa on Lake George."

"Just the two of us, like before. I'll make you that Sicilian stew you like. How about it?"

A memory I thought I had buried began to stir. On the 19th, all those years ago, he'd taken a bullet for me by the lake. It was the beginning of our cursed fate.

But now, it all meant nothing to me.

I was about to refuse when a soft cry of pain came from his end of the line.

"Ngh... Carter, it hurts! I think the wound opened up..."

Tessa's voice was so close, it was as if she were pressed against his chest.

Carter's breathing immediately grew ragged.

"Dammit."

He cursed under his breath, then, remembering I was still on the phone, his tone became dismissive. "Maeve, don't hang up. Give me a minute."

He tossed the phone carelessly onto what sounded like a sofa, not even bothering to mute the call.

And so, I was forced to listen to a nauseating private performance.

"The tape is stuck so tight... can you be gentle..."

Her suggestive gasps drilled clearly into my ear.

The rustle of fabric, the sharp rip of medical tape.

And then Tessa's tearful, coquettish plea:

"It hurts here, too... Can you kiss it better for me?"

"Alright, just bear with it. It'll be over in a second," Carter's voice was so gentle, laced with a patience he had never once shown me.

I looked at my own expressionless face in the mirror and suddenly found the situation hilarious.

This blatant humiliation was louder than a slap across the face.

So this was his "not what you think."

This was his "just the two of us."

He was inviting me on an anniversary date while kneeling at another woman's feet, personally tending to her feigned injuries.

My finger tapped the screen, and the red button put an end to the farce.

"Goodbye, Carter."

I laughed at the dial tone. "Enjoy your little performance."

The door opened and Ava strode in, dressed in a daring leather outfit and dangling two VIP passes for an underground bar.

"Handled that asshole?" Ava asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What are you still moping about for? It's the opening night of a new club. They say all the wildest men in New York will be there."

She was right. There were so many wonderful things in this world, why was I wasting my energy on that one man?

I tossed the phone into the trash can, grabbed my jacket, and strode toward the door.

"Let's go."

"Tonight, we're breaking out the hard stuff."

A toast to my new life, in advance.