The first real breath I took in weeks was thirty thousand feet in the air.
Somewhere over the Atlantic, with nothing but clouds beneath me, I finally felt like I could exhale.
No more marble halls, no more cameras in the corners, no more pretending to be fine. No more carefully measured smiles. No more tiptoeing around Dominic's moods. No more calculating my own survival while wearing thousand-dollar gowns.
I wasn't Lila Blackwell anymore. Not here.
Here, I was no one.
And that was the point.
The plan had been forming quietly in my mind for months. Every time he kissed me like I was his, and I smiled like I believed it. Every time I told him I was okay. Every time I swallowed the truth like poison and waited for it to pass.
Now, the contract was over. My debt paid.
And I was gone.
The apartment I found was oceans away, tucked into a sun-warmed coastal town where no one asked questions and the waves drowned out every thought I didn't want to think. It was small and worn and perfect. The paint peeled at the corners. The tiles in the bathroom were cracked. The bed creaked when I sat on it.
It was heaven.
I bought groceries in silence. I walked the narrow streets with sunglasses on and a hoodie pulled low. I didn't use my real name. I didn't use any name at all unless someone made me. I carried cash in an old canvas bag and kept the blinds closed at night.
It wasn't paranoia.
It was survival.
Because I knew him.
I knew Dominic would come looking.
He'd flip the city upside down. He'd call in favors. He'd make promises and threats and leverage every inch of power he had to find me.
Because he didn't lose.
He didn't let people walk away — especially not me.
That's what scared me most. Not that he would find me. But that, when he did, I wouldn't be strong enough to leave a second time.
So I vanished completely.
For days, the silence was peaceful. But then, the world started to catch up.
It happened at a fruit stand.
The man behind the register was watching the tiny TV bolted to the wall when I saw it — my face.
My wedding photo.
And beside it: Dominic.
I froze, pulse hammering in my chest.
The headline was in a different language, but I could read enough of it.
Wife of U.S. billionaire disappears without a trace.
There were images of the two of us together, smiling for cameras. And another of me alone, walking into a gala in a crimson dress, looking every bit the part of the elegant, devoted wife.
No one knew the truth.
No one knew we were over.
No one knew I had walked out — willingly, desperately — and signed away the life he built around me like a cage.
I ducked out of the shop without finishing my purchase. My stomach churned as I stepped back into the humid air.
He was looking for me.
Of course he was.
And now the world was too.
But they wouldn't find me.
I made sure of it.
Because for the first time in forever… I was finally free.