Chapter 4 - THE EMPTY MANSION
One week later, Adrian returned to our Lake Forest mansion near midnight.
The grand foyer was dark.
Silent.
Unforgiving.
He tossed his keys onto the mahogany console table.
“Claire?” he called out.
Only his own voice echoed back.
He walked down the long hallway toward our bedroom.
The closet doors stood wide open.
My clothes were gone.
My shoes were gone.
My perfume bottles had vanished from the vanity.
On the polished wood nightstand, he found a thick manila envelope bearing his name.
He tore it open with shaking fingers.
Inside were formal divorce papers, signed on every page.
And a single sheet of paper with one sentence written in my neat cursive:
This time, I’m not waiting for you.
He sank slowly onto the edge of the unmade bed, still holding the paper.
Chicago’s most feared mafia boss sat in an empty room, completely powerless.
He could control ports, casinos, and politicians.
He could track down any debtor in the Midwest.
May you like
But the one woman he had always assumed would forgive, understand, and wait—
was gone into the dark.
