Everyone knew.
Everyone but me.
Even Gigi.
I’d been a fool for thirty years.
But now?
Now, I was wide awake.
That final blow? It knocked me clean out of my fog.
For the first time in years, I felt calm. Cold. Sharp.
I glanced at the letter in my hand. Solid proof — everything I needed to burn their perfect little scheme to the ground.
Turns out, I was not as dumb as I thought.
I grabbed my phone and snapped photos of every single letter. Front, back, every page. When I was sure I had it all, I carefully placed the originals back, exactly how I found them. No trace. No mistakes.
Then I headed to my room. Dumped my painkillers into a small bag and slipped it into my pocket.
Next, I tore through the house like I was on a mission — bankbooks, cash, property deeds. Every important document went into a bag. Our marriage certificate. My ID.
No one was touching my assets.
Not now.
Not ever.
Once everything was packed, I made my way to Sebastian’s room.
There he was. Sprawled on the bed, looking like some washed-up king. His breathing was faint, steady. Warm air brushed the back of my hand.
Still alive.
I snorted. “Tough old bastard.”
Leaning in, I whispered, “Since you’re so eager to die… let me help you.”
Without a second thought, I grabbed the bottle of sleeping pills from his nightstand and shoved them down his throat. All of them.
When I was sure he’d swallowed every last one, I straightened up, closed the bedroom door behind me, and left without looking back.
