“Get out.”

Austin’s fingers tapped the steering wheel lazily. His voice was flat, devoid of warmth or anger.

I swallowed, my gaze darting to the dark, empty highway. Mountains loomed in the distance, their shadows stretching like silent warnings.

“Here?” My voice trembled. “Austin…”

Before I could finish, his phone rang.

“Mm, I’m on my way back. About two hours,” he said, his tone softening.

Anastasia Jane. It had to be her. Only she could melt the ice in his voice.

When the call ended, he turned to me, his patience running thin. “Get out. Now.”

I opened my mouth, then shut it. What was the point? I reached for the door handle and stepped out.

Before my feet even hit the pavement, his cobalt blue Porsche roared to life, vanishing into the night.

I stood there, alone, at one in the morning. Cars sped past, their headlights flashing like ghosts in the dark. No one stopped. No one ever did.

From Willowcrest Lane to Ravenshade Avenue, it was 170 kilometers. A three-hour drive.

I walked.

By the time I reached Ravenshade Avenue, the sun had already risen. My legs ached, my feet burned, but I made it.

Inside the Haven’s villa, Angela gasped when she saw me limping through the door.

“Annie! What happened? Where’s Austin?” She rushed to help me.

I collapsed onto the couch, exhausted. “Anastasia needed him. I walked back.”

Angela’s face darkened as she cleaned my blistered feet. “That man… How could he leave you like that?”

I only smiled, too drained to answer.

Austin is my husband. The eldest son of the richest family on Ravenshade Avenue. A man the world calls a genius—brilliant, powerful, dangerously charming.

Women who love him suffer. Men who cross him lose.

When I married him, people envied me. They said I was lucky. That I had everything—wealth, status, the perfect husband.

But they didn’t know the truth.

A man who can abandon his wife on a deserted highway just to pick up his mistress…

There’s no greater cruelty than that.

A car pulled up outside. Angela wiped her hands. “He’s back.”

I kept my eyes shut, pretending to sleep.

The sharp sound of leather shoes echoed through the villa. A presence loomed over me, cold and suffocating. I opened my eyes—and met his.

Austin’s dark gaze locked onto mine before flicking to my feet in the water. His brows furrowed.

“Did you walk back?”

“Yes.”

“Out of money?”

I let out a bitter laugh. Even if I had money, who would stop for a woman alone on a haunted highway?

His gaze lingered on me for a second before he stepped back, his face unreadable.

“You’ll handle the Everest Finance deal. Wrap it up in two weeks.”

I sat up straight. “Okay.”

Without another word, he turned to leave.

I watched his back, my chest tightening with an emotion I couldn’t name.

And then, just as he reached the door, he paused.

His voice was low, almost too quiet to hear.

“You should’ve called me.”

I stared at him.

And for the first time, I wondered—was there still a part of him that cared?