I had just won the rare oil painting Arthur had been eyeing at the Sotheby's auction—a birthday surprise I couldn't wait to give him.

But as I approached the door to his private VIP room with the transfer documents in hand, Chloe's grating, high-pitched laugh stopped me in my tracks.

"I told you Evelyn would go all out today."

"Social climbers know exactly how to leverage a small investment for a massive payout. Using a painting to secure her position as the future matriarch of the family? It's a brilliant trade."

I pushed the door open.

The mocking laughter didn't stop. Everyone turned to look at me, their eyes brimming with amusement and naked disdain.

Arthur leaned back in the center seat. He didn't say a single word to defend me.

Instead, he scrutinized me with cold, calculating eyes. "Three years of playing the saint, Evelyn. Was it all just a long con for the trust fund?"

Looking at the man I had poured my heart and soul into caring for over the last three years, my stomach churned with disgust.

I didn't waste my breath arguing. Right in front of everyone, I pulled out my phone and dialed the Sotheby's manager.

"Cancel the transfer. I'm pulling my bid. I'll eat the penalty fee."

I hung up, slid the diamond engagement ring off my finger, and dropped it onto the marble table. It landed with a sharp, hollow clink.

"You're right, Arthur. I'm done playing the part."

~~~~~

I walked out of the room and headed straight for the estate's valet.

The cool night wind hit my face. I pressed a hand to my stomach and took a deep, shaky breath.

A one-hundred-thousand-dollar penalty fee. That was the money I had painstakingly saved up, surviving countless sleepless nights on Wall Street. It was supposed to be the down payment for a modest condo on the outskirts of Manhattan.

It was the last shred of security I desperately wanted in this ruthless city.

Saying it didn't hurt to lose it would be a lie. But compared to enduring another second of humiliation in this toxic relationship, it was the best stop-loss trade I had ever made.

Just as the valet pulled my car up, the sharp clack of Chloe's heels echoed behind me.

"Look everyone, she really didn't go far."

Arthur and his entourage of elite friends had followed me out. They stood under the towering stone pillars of the estate, watching me like I was the punchline of a joke.

Chloe sauntered up to my car, swirling a glass of champagne. Her eyes dripped with mockery.

"You guys are so gullible. Cheap gold diggers ask for cash upfront. The high-level ones play psychological warfare."

"Eating the penalty fee in public? She's just trying to guilt-trip him."

"Trading a cancellation fee for a man's absolute trust. Wall Street should be taking notes."

The crowd erupted into louder laughter.

"No wonder she refused to spend Arthur's money for three years. She was playing the long game."

I pulled my car door open, not even bothering to give them a second glance.

Arthur stepped forward and clamped his hand around my wrist in a vice grip.

"Are you done making a scene?"

He pulled an unlimited Centurion black card from his wallet and shoved it into my hand. His voice was laced with the irritated impatience of someone handing out charity.

"I'll cover the hundred grand."

"I was out of line today. Take the card, go buy something you want, and drop the attitude."

I stared at the black card in my palm. The nausea returned, stronger this time.

Three years together, and I hadn't spent a single cent of his money.

Yet even now, he truly believed that all my grievances, all the blood, sweat, and tears I had poured into us, could be smoothed over with a swipe of his plastic.

I slammed the black card down onto the hood of the car.

"We're done, Arthur."

His expression darkened instantly.

Beside him, Chloe clapped her hands together. "What did I tell you?"

"Returning the gift was just the appetizer. The breakup is the main event." She turned to Arthur, her face glowing with absolute certainty. "She's suffered for three years, and she's right on the verge of getting a cut of the trust fund. There's no way she's actually walking away."

"She's just trying to back you into a public proposal."

The crowd immediately started jeering.

"Come on, Arthur, get on one knee!"

"If you don't, next time she won't just return a gift—she'll be threatening to jump off the roof."

The tight knot between Arthur's brows slowly relaxed.

He looked down at me, a knowing, contemptuous smirk playing on his lips.

"If you want a ring, just say it."

"Don't bluff with a breakup. It's getting old."

I yanked my wrist out of his grasp and took a step back.

"I'm not bluffing."

"I'm dumping you."

Arthur stared at me for a few seconds. The last trace of his patience vanished.

"Fine. Let's see how long you can play hardball."

I didn't answer. I got into my car and slammed the door shut.

My phone buzzed. It was a senior partner from my firm.

"Evelyn, London HQ is bleeding talent on the new fund. It's a three-year on-site deployment. You'd have to fly out the day after tomorrow."

"It's a meat grinder. You in?"

In the past, I had turned down two executive promotions and overseas deployments just to stay in New York and take care of Arthur when he broke his leg skiing.

This time, I didn't hesitate for a single second.

"I'm in."

I booked a ticket for Heathrow Airport for the morning after next.

Only forty-eight hours left until I left this city. Until I left Arthur.