Chapter 5 Painted Smiles And Price Tags

Rowan was a different man this week. Flowers arrived each morning—roses, peonies, orchids. Handwritten notes inked in his familiar cursive: “Can’t stop thinking about last night.” “Counting the hours until I’m home.” “You make everything worth it.” He took her to dinner three nights in a row, reserved the private table at their favorite rooftop spot, booked her a luxury massage (a real one, this time), and even asked if she wanted to plan a weekend away in Saint Barth’s. Elowen should’ve been swept up in it. Should’ve leaned into the fairytale. But every bouquet made her heart sink further. Every “I love you” felt like a layer of silk draped over a blade. Because love didn’t erase the memory of that text: “Next time, don’t rush. I hate when you leave me hungry.” And it definitely didn’t erase $11,800 in unexplained charges. Still, she played along—smiling, kissing, letting him worship her body like a man making up for sins he swore he didn’t commit. On Saturday, they dressed for the Ridgefield Foundation Gala, held annually to raise funds for inner-city youth programs. Rowan was a lead sponsor. His name printed in thick gold across the programs. He looked every inch the billionaire CEO: sharp tuxedo, hair slicked back, jaw dusted with the kind of stubble he knew she liked. “You look like you want to devour me,” she teased as she finished pinning in her earrings. “I do,” he said, wrapping his arms around her from behind. His lips grazed her shoulder. “You make diamonds look dull, El.” She wore a floor-length emerald green gown, the silk hugging her curves like sin. A thigh-high slit. Deep neckline. Her hair swept to one side, lips painted blood red. They looked like power. Like perfection. A lie dressed in luxury. The gala buzzed with New York’s elite—politicians, celebrities, old money and new. Rowan kept his arm around her waist, introduced her to everyone with reverence. “This is my wife,” he said again and again. “The woman who keeps me grounded.” People smiled. She smiled harder. Halfway through the night, Rowan was pulled into a conversation with a potential investor. Elowen drifted to the bar, in need of champagne and oxygen. “Gorgeous dress,” a smooth voice said beside her. She turned to find a woman in a red satin slip dress, with flawless skin and a honey-slick accent. “Thank you,” Elowen said. “Maison Sauvage?” the woman asked, eyeing the stitching. “Spring collection?” Elowen’s heart froze. “No,” she replied. “Mine’s custom.” The woman’s brow lifted. “Oh? I could’ve sworn. I just bought one that looked exactly like it last week. Cost a fortune. My… friend insisted I have it.” Elowen’s fingers tightened on the champagne glass. “Generous friend?” The woman laughed lightly. “Filthy rich. Good taste. Terrible timing.” “What do you mean?” “He’s married,” she whispered like it was gossip and not a dagger. Elowen forced a laugh, her stomach a pit of knives. “Well, enjoy your evening,” the woman said, raising her glass. “You too,” Elowen murmured. She turned and walked straight toward the restroom, heels echoing against marble floors. Inside the powder room, Elowen locked the door and leaned over the sink. The air was thick with perfume and artificial roses. Maison Sauvage. It lingered on the woman’s skin. She splashed cold water on her face. Could’ve been coincidence. Could’ve been another man. Another marriage. But it felt like a thread had just been tugged. And something was unraveling. Back at home that night, Rowan was electric with lust. “You were glowing,” he whispered as he peeled the gown from her skin. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His kisses were urgent, desperate. Like she was slipping from his grasp. Elowen lay there, letting him devour her, every thrust rougher than the last. His hand pinned her wrist above her head, lips dragging down her throat. “Say you’re mine,” he growled. She didn’t speak. “Say it,” he demanded again, breath hot against her collarbone. “…I’m yours,” she whispered. But her voice cracked. And somewhere inside, a part of her already wasn’t.