Chapter 3 All afternoon until nightfall, Damien never came back. 1 ignored him completely-after all, as long as I changed my outfit, I was basically invisible to him anyway. Once all the divorce paperwork was finalized, the first thing I did was clean out my closet. I'd filled it with nothing but blood red for years, trying to make Damien remember me. Now it looked like some kind of walking curse. Even glancing at it made me sick. The boutique clerk enthusiastically recommended a cream-colored silk cocktail dress. Just as I was about to pay, a sweet voice piped up: "I want that one too." I turned and saw Aria Sterling's delicate little face. She looked me up and down: "Ms. Rivers, what exactly are you still holding onto? Wasn't the studio incident enough of a wake-up call?" "Damien doesn't love you. You could wear the most gorgeous clothes in the world and he'd still treat you like wallpaper." I wasn't interested in her drama. I pulled out my black card and handed it to the clerk: "This one, plus every size in this entire collection-wrap them all up." "And please escort her out." The clerk immediately started clearing the store, but just then Damien arrived. He went straight to Aria without even a sideways glance at me. 'Wrap up the dress for Miss Sterling." The clerk stared in shock and whispered, "Mr. Ashford, but this lady is your..." I'd gotten a sleek bob and was wearing gold-rimmed glasses today. Of course Damien didn't recognize me. 'She's nothing." Damien's voice was soft but loud enough for everyone in the store to hear clearly. "Some random woman who crawled out of nowhere thinks she can compete with Aria?" He turned to the petrified clerk with undeniable authority in his tone. 'Starting today, remember Miss Sterling's face. Every single business under Ashford Industries will provide her with our highest level of service, no questions isked." Aria smiled and tugged at his sleeve: 'Damien, forget it. I don't need one dress. Let's leave it for those poor creatures nobody loves." Damien didn't push it: "Whatever makes you happy." I stood there watching Damien's gaze fixed on Aria, never wavering, and felt the last tiny spark of hope in my heart finally die out completely. Back at the mansion I'd called home for five years, the fingerprint lock denied access. I was about to call the housekeeper when the front door opened from inside. Aria stood there in my silk pajamas, hair still dripping wet. She frowned like she'd spotted something disgusting. "I thought you had more class than this. What's the point of clinging to Damien?" I looked down and slipped off the ring Damien had carved for me himself. Black card. Car keys. And mine and Damien's marriage certificate. I arranged all these symbols of being "Mrs. Ashford" in a neat little row. Then I turned around and never looked back. I got a new phone and dialed a number: 'Starting now, Mrs. Ashford doesn't exist anymore."