From Mob Princess to Mugshot Photographer novel Chapter 79

**Chapter 3**

For nearly three months, the air between us had been thick with silence and absence. I had begun to resign myself to the idea that perhaps our paths had diverged for good, that the echoes of our shared laughter and whispered secrets were now mere remnants of a distant past. Just as I was settling into this bleak acceptance, he reappeared as if summoned by the very fabric of my thoughts.

There he was, reclining on the sofa with an air of nonchalance, his chin tilted ever so slightly, exuding an aura of authority that I had once found charming. There was a box resting on the table between us, and with a casual flick of his hand, he gestured toward it, his voice cutting through the stillness.

“There’s a banquet tomorrow. Wear this dress and don’t embarrass me.”

I felt a surge of defiance rise within me. “Ask Fiona,” I shot back, my refusal immediate and unwavering.

He paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he leaned in closer, his gaze piercing through the air between us. “Nina, have you forgotten that you’re the Mrs. Smith?” Each word was delivered with a deliberate intensity, as if he were trying to etch the reality of our situation into my mind.

My eyes fell to the floor, avoiding his penetrating stare, and a soft laugh escaped my lips, almost involuntarily. “If you hadn’t reminded me, I truly might have forgotten.”

We stood our ground, locked in a battle of wills, our eyes clashing like swords in a duel. The atmosphere grew thick with tension, charged with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. After what felt like an eternity, he finally broke the silence, rising to his feet with a sense of finality.

“Nina, I want you to understand something clearly: it was you who left me, driven by your insatiable greed for wealth. You’re the one who wronged me!” His voice was a mixture of accusation and pain, reverberating in the space between us.

“Who are you putting on this act for now?” I retorted, unable to suppress the anger bubbling inside me. “You’re merely reaping what you’ve sown.”

“I’m telling you,” he continued, his tone darkening, “no matter how wronged or miserable you feel in this moment, you must endure it. Remember, as long as I haven’t declared it’s over between us, you will never escape me. You’ll have to bear this for the rest of your life!”

I remained silent, my heart heavy with the realization that the warm, loving Cedric I once cherished was slipping further away, replaced by the arrogant man standing before me.

Seeing my silence, he dismissed me with a curt remark. “My assistant will come to pick you up tomorrow. Don’t be late!” With that, he turned on his heel and left, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed in my chest.

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