The consigliere studied me for a moment, then pushed the papers toward me.
“Everything’s ready,” he said. “You only need to sign.”
I picked up the pen and wrote my name without hesitation.
“You leave on the ninth of next month.”
I counted the days in silence.
Less than twenty.
That was enough.
Enough time to put my affairs in order. Enough time to untangle the last threads tying me to Cassian Ashbourne. Enough time to walk away cleanly and never look back.
I would leave on the appointed day.
And on that same day, I would end everything between us.
By dusk, rain had started falling over the estate.
At first it was only a fine mist beyond the tall office windows, silver against the darkening courtyard. Then it thickened into a steady downpour, turning the stone drive black with rain and making the lanterns by the gates hiss in the damp.
I was sorting the last of the ledgers on my desk when my phone lit up with Cassian’s name.
I stared at it for a moment before answering.
The second I picked up, his voice came through low and impatient.
“You’re done at the office, aren’t you? Come to the clinic and drive us home.”
For a second, I thought I had heard him wrong.
Then I realized I had not.
He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. As if I should go out into the rain and collect him and Odette like some obedient wife already trained not to ask questions. As if what he had done the night before had never happened. As if I were part of the household staff, waiting to be summoned.
I almost laughed.
“There’s a dinner here tonight for the department heads,” I said evenly. “I don’t know when it will end.”
There was a short pause, like refusal had not crossed his mind.
“Come get us first,” he said. “Then go back.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“You can call one of the drivers.”
Then I hung up.
I did not care whether he was angry.
That evening, I stayed.
The dinner was simple, held in one of the smaller reception rooms above the main offices, but it was warm in a way the Ashbourne house had not felt in a long time. The table was crowded with half-finished glasses, plates of roasted meat, bread, and bowls of hot stew. Someone told a story about one of the security captains slipping off the dock during a weapons shipment inspection, and laughter moved easily around the room.
For the first time in days, I smiled without forcing it.