Chapter 2 - The Altar of the Other Woman
The steady, rhythmic beeping of a cardiac monitor dragged me back from the void.
A plastic oxygen mask was pressed tightly against my face, delivering cool, dry air directly into my burning lungs.
Every breath felt like dragging broken glass through my chest.
I slowly cracked my eyelids open, blinded momentarily by the sterile white neon lights of the private hospital suite.
An intravenous needle was taped firmly into the back of my bruised left hand.
Beside my bed stood Doctor Harrison, the trusted chief physician who had served the Moretti family for three decades.
"Do not attempt to sit up, Mrs. Moretti," Doctor Harrison warned gently, adjusting the flow of the saline drip.
"You experienced severe anaphylactic shock and respiratory failure."
"The epinephrine administered in the ambulance barely saved your life."
I closed my eyes for a long moment, letting the horrific reality crystallize in my mind.
I had actually died for a few terrifying seconds in the penthouse elevator before the paramedics revived me.
"What... was in it?" I forced the words out, my voice sounding like gravel scraping against concrete.
"The toxicology screening revealed an astronomical concentration of refined Lilium candidum extract," the doctor explained solemnly.
"It was blended into the perfume's heart notes at levels meant to maximize projection and longevity."
"For an ordinary individual, it is merely potent; for your genetic profile, it was effectively a chemical weapon."
A heavy knock rattled the heavy oak door before it swung wide open.
Vincent entered the room, his white dress shirt crumpled and stained with my spilled blood where I had clawed him.
His hair was disheveled, but he was not alone.
Clinging tightly to his forearm was Sophia Reynolds, dressed in an immaculate cashmere coat, sobbing inconsolably into a lace handkerchief.
"Claire! Oh God, Claire!" Sophia wailed theatrical tears, stumbling toward the foot of my bed.
"I swear to God I did not know! I only wanted to give you something beautiful!"
"Vincent, please tell her! Please tell her I would never hurt her intentionally!"
Before I could even process the audacity of her presence, Vincent shifted his weight and pulled Sophia into his chest.
He wrapped his powerful arms around her shaking frame, murmuring soft words into her golden curls.
"Hush now, Sophia. Calamities happen. You did not know about the chemical formulation."
"Calm yourself before you faint. You have a delicate heart, remember?"
I lay motionless beneath the white hospital sheets, watching my husband comfort the woman who had almost buried me.
My lungs were screaming in agony, my heart was fluctuating on the monitor, and he was wiping tears from another woman's cheek.
Seven years of unconditional loyalty, of tending his wounds, of maintaining his public image, flashed before my eyes and burned to ash.
"Vincent," I whispered, the word cutting through Sophia's manufactured sobs.
Vincent pulled his gaze away from Sophia, his jaw hardening as if bracing for an unpleasant chore.
"The doctor says you are out of danger, Claire. Thank God the paramedics were stationed nearby."
"Now please, reassure Sophia so she stops torturing herself over an honest mistake."
A terrible, quiet clarity descended upon my soul.
There was no anger left in me, no screaming rage, only the profound silence of a grave.
I reached up with a trembling hand and pulled the plastic oxygen mask down to my chin.
"I want a divorce, Vincent."
The room fell so quiet that the electronic hum of the heart monitor sounded like thunder.
Sophia’s sobs ceased instantly, her wide, innocent eyes darting between the two of us.
Vincent’s expression darkened into an ominous scowl, his fingers tightening on Sophia’s coat sleeve before dropping away.
"Do not be ridiculous, Claire," he commanded in that icy tone he reserved for insubordinate capos.
"You suffered an allergic reaction from an honest accident, and now you want to dismantle our marriage over it?"
"I nearly stopped breathing permanently," I stated, staring directly into the eyes of the man I had worshipped for seven years.
"And your first instinct upon walking through that door was to embrace the woman who handed you the poison."
"Sophia apologized profusely!" Vincent took a step toward my bed, his towering frame casting a dark shadow over me.
"She is devastated, yet you choose this precise moment to indulge in your petty, vindictive jealousy."
"No more Moretti wife duties, Vincent," I said with absolute finality.
"No more hosting charity galas for your front companies."
"No more washing blood from your collars."
"And no more pretending that you have a heart capable of loving anyone other than her."
"You are not divorcing me, Claire," Vincent warned, his voice dropping into a lethal, terrifying register.
"No one leaves this family unless I permit it."
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"Then you had better kill me right now, Vincent," I whispered without blinking.
"Because the moment I walk out of this hospital, I will never belong to you again."
