He offered a tense, strained laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Okay, okay. If you don’t want to say, don’t. I just wanted to know in case you needed help.”
Help.
From Darius, who hadn’t offered to chip in for groceries even once in their five years of marriage.
Kiana finished her soup in complete silence.
Everything inside her went cold, but her face remained perfectly calm.
That was her greatest talent—never showing what was happening inside her mind.
Money, she thought clearly. So it’s about the money.
She really did have a significant amount in her account—over one hundred and twenty thousand dollars.
It was an inheritance from her grandmother Ruby, the only person who had ever truly loved Kiana without conditions or expectations.
Her grandmother had passed away two years ago, leaving her a small condo and her life savings.
Kiana sold the condo, added the money to her own savings account, and decided to set it aside carefully—for the kitchen renovation she’d dreamed about for years, maybe a real vacation, or just a solid rainy-day fund.
Darius knew about the inheritance.
Two years ago, he’d even tried to suggest she invest the money in some friend’s business venture—something vague about cryptocurrency or real estate flipping.
Kiana had refused, gently but firmly.
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