Not surprising. Reynold sat at the head of the table, ignoring me completely, a smug glint in his eyes. It was like... almost pleased that he hadn’t prepared anything for me.

“What do you want?” he asked, voice flat.

“Can you sign these… Don?” I pulled the documents from the envelope.

His face soured instantly. He despised seeing paperwork at home, but he also knew I wouldn’t bring Family documents here unless it was important.

“Can’t it wait?” he grumbled.

“No,” I began, but his phone rang.

His posture straightened like he’d just received a call from God. “Dahlia.”

My eyes shut as soon as he spoke her name.

My sister. The woman he truly loved but couldn’t officially be with.

“Yes, I’m coming. I always have time for you. Stay there,” he said gently.

He hung up and threw a brief side-glance at me before sliding his plate toward me. “Eat. Dahlia needs me.”

“But you haven’t signed the documents. They're important,” I insisted.

His jaw tightened. Without hesitation, he snatched the papers, scribbled his signature across each page, and slammed the pen down.

“There. And stop pushing me. Clean up before you sleep. And make breakfast in the morning. Be useful around here!”

He sounded irritated, but there was something almost satisfied in his expression as he grabbed his coat and left. He didn’t even ask what he had signed.

I slowly opened the documents. He signed the divorce letter. He signed for my withdrawal from the Falcone Syndicate. I was finally walking out of his life and his last instructions were chores.

That’s right. In this house, everything was my responsibility. Not because he wanted a home—no. Because he wanted a maid. He said he didn’t need to hire staff since I existed. That was my role.

To him, I was just like my mother, who once served in my own birth family’s mansion. No matter how I dressed or carried myself, I would always be “the help.”

Even though I was born into one of the oldest founding syndicate in the country, my blood never counted. I was the only one born without the markers of power, and in this world, that made me a curse—a liability. My parents were the ones who suggested swapping me with their maid’s daughter. That girl was blessed with the right signs, the right blood. Born on the same day as me. The daughter they chose.

They always picked Dahlia.

And Reynold, my husband... chose her too.