Chapter 336
Chapter 336:
Eliza pulled it out and dumped the contents onto the velvet island in the center of the closet.
The Prenuptial Agreement. The “Clean Break” promise she had drafted herself months ago. And a black card — the heavy titanium American Express Centurion card he had given her. Unlimited, he had said. For whatever you need.
Eliza picked up the card. It felt heavy and cold. Like a shackle.
“He thinks he can buy my silence,” Eliza murmured. “He thinks if he leaves me rich, I’ll go away quietly p>
She picked up a pair of heavy-duty fabric shears from the counter.
“Eliza, don’t,” Azalea pleaded. “You might need that. For emergencies p>
𝖭𝖾𝗐 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄 𝗈𝗇
“I am the emergency,” Eliza said.
She positioned the blades over the chip. She squeezed.
The metal groaned, then snapped. She cut it again. And again. Until the symbol of ultimate wealth was nothing but jagged black confetti on the velvet.
“Tell him,” Eliza said, looking at Azalea’s reflection in the mirror, “that I don’t want his money. I don’t want his pity. I want nothing p>
Azalea looked at the shards of the card. She looked ill. “He just wants you to be safe, Eliza p>
“Safe?” Eliza laughed — a dry, brittle sound. “He destroyed me, Azalea. That’s not safety. That’s a demolition p>
Eliza turned to the corner of the room where a small, battered cardboard box sat. Inside were her art supplies, a few paperback books, and her mother’s old scarf.
“That’s mine,” she said, pointing to the box. “That’s all I’m taking p>
She walked to the dresser where a set of car keys lay — the keys to the vintage Mercedes, the Ghost, that Azalea had gifted her. She picked them up, feeling the weight of the metal, then set them down again.
“And not these,” Eliza said, dropping the keys onto the pile of shredded card. “I won’t drive his car. I won’t be tracked by his system. I’m walking out of here on my own two feet p>
The movers finished clearing the living room. The penthouse, once warm and lived-in, now echoed with a hollow emptiness. It felt like a tomb.
Eliza walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city sprawled out below, indifferent and gray. This was where they had stood watching the rain. Where he had kissed the back of her neck and promised her forever.
Liar.
“Re-routing delivery to the charity center, ma’am,” the foreman called out. “We’re done here p>
“Good,” Eliza said. “Leave the keys on the counter p>
The door clicked shut.
Eliza stood there, the silence pressing against her ears.
Azalea walked up beside her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver Zippo lighter, holding it out to Eliza.
“The fire pit downstairs,” Azalea said softly. “In the garden. It’s gas-lit, but — you can throw things in it p>
Eliza looked at the lighter. Then she looked at Azalea. For a moment, the mask slipped, and she saw the pain in the girl’s eyes.
“Thank you,” Eliza said, taking the lighter. The metal was warm from Azalea’s hand.