Prologue

Cleanse

“She’s gone.”

The words were meant for no one—they simply spilled out as the realization sunk in. There was no hiding from the anguish crushing my chest, but it wasn’t for me or the love I believed I held for her. No, it was for our son, Oliver.

There, perched on the edge of the bed, was the mirrored jewelry box that once housed the diamonds and pearls I’d showered her with. It was open and empty. I’d known what that meant the moment I’d walked into the room after returning home from work.

My disbelief was short-lived as I moved the box to the side table, my muscles already sore from tension, and sat on the bed with Oliver in my lap. He was so little—not even a year old, with only a few days left until his birthday—and already the one other person who was supposed to take care of him and love him as much as I did had let him down.

He squirmed in my lap, raspy bubbles on his lips as he fought against my arms that held him close. I clung to him, not ready to let go. The fear of losing him settled over me, deepening the wound.

She hadn’t taken him with her, but she could have. Instead, she’d left him with the nannies I’d fought so hard not to hire. I closed my eyes, inhaling his innocence. The thought of her leaving him alone in the house had the nannies not been there erased the gaping hole in my heart, replacing it with anger and rage.

“Dada!” Oliver cried out. I opened my arms reluctantly and watched him scoot off me, crawling over to the pillows. He rested his head there, kicking his feet above him.

I lay down beside him and wondered how I’d let things go on for so long. If I’d allowed myself to really see, I’d have taken him and left weeks ago. I’d foolishly held out hope that things would turn around—convinced myself the phone calls she received late in the evening were only from her family, like she said, and that every dinner she missed was excusable.

My eyes closed briefly as I accepted the truth. I’d known it was coming—known I was losing her—but there was nothing I could’ve done. I’d given her everything I had without a single complaint.

I fell hard the moment I met her. She was beautiful, adventurous, and everything I’d ever wanted. Steadfast in my belief she was created to be my other half, I did everything in my power to be hers as well.

The moment she learned she was pregnant, I gave her my full support. I dropped out of college and crawled to my unsympathetic father, leaving my pride at the door to ask him for a job. I never regretted those decisions.

That was less than two years ago; I was barely a man at twenty-one. Yet I stepped up, cleared out my savings, and gave her everything she asked for. But it wasn’t enough. The lifestyle I provided for her was becoming harder to maintain, and I refused to work around the clock and leave my son with strangers. The moment I told her we’d have to cut back on a few extravagances a month ago was when I saw the first real crack I couldn’t rationalize away.

I’d made enough money to sustain the lifestyle she required, but still she refused to listen or cut back in any way, and tried to persuade me to work harder—to take on risky ventures outside my father’s business. It was becoming clear that I couldn’t keep her happy, and as much as it hurt to admit even to myself, I knew Oliver couldn’t either.

So it was for the best that she’d left. He didn’t need her—didn’t need to know his mother preferred shopping over bonding, and manicures over rocking him to sleep.

I’d spare him that agony. No matter what it took, I’d protect him.

“Mr. West, you called?”

My head fell to the side to find Gillian, the weekday nanny, standing in the doorway. She regarded me with an unusually soft but cautious look.

“When did she leave?” I asked, looking back at Oliver beside me as he sat up and propped his back against my stomach.

“Around nine, sir.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. I’d left for work at eight thirty, and there’d been no hint that it was going to be that day. I closed my eyes to recall the kiss we’d shared after breakfast. It had been passionate and overly tender; it was her goodbye kiss. I hadn’t realized the significance in the moment. Was I really that blind?

“Huhp, huhp,” Oliver demanded, grabbing my hands so I’d lift him in the air. I did so instantly, his giggles wild as he flew above me in my outstretched arms.

“Is there anything else I should know?” I asked, my focus never straying from Oliver’s grin.

“She said to tell you goodbye.”

Goodbye? That was it? “Any words for Oliver?” I asked quickly.

There was a long pause before she answered. “No, I’m sorry.” Her meek voice barely broke through the rumbling fury consuming me, but still I tried to focus on my son. I needed to control my emotions, for his sake.

“Did she spend time with him before she left?”

Another pause filled the space between us, aggravating me further. I wanted answers—needed them. My hard scowl trained on her, threatening.

She paused, shaking her head slowly before speaking. “No.”

I placed Oliver back down beside me and sat up, leaning back against the headboard. My fingers raked over my scalp, locking behind my head. I didn’t think or wonder. I just sat there, letting my emotions simmer.

When I glanced back at Oliver, his little fist was in his mouth and he was chewing on it.

“What you got there?” I asked, carefully pulling his drool-soaked hand free and unclenching his fingers to reveal a single pearl earring.

Shit! He must have found it on the bed.

“Can I have that?” I asked, taking it from him. Not only was it a choking hazard, it was hers: Natasha’s. She must’ve been in a real hurry.

His bottom lip shot out, his chin quivered, and I knew what was coming. I pulled my keys from my pocket and handed them to him in exchange. His sullen expression jumped to one of excitement immediately.

“Thank you,” I said, kissing his head before peering over at Gillian. “I need this room cleared of her belongings tonight, then the rest of the house tomorrow. I want everything of hers gone.”

“Yes, sir. Where would you like me to have it stored?”

My brows furrowed. “Don’t store it—just get rid of it. Donate it or something, I don’t care. I just want it gone. And make any photos she’s in disappear.”

I helped Oliver down from the bed and stood. “Also, after tomorrow, I won’t be in need of your services any longer. Please let Maria know as well. No more nannies for my son. I’ll make sure you each have excellent references for future employers, as well as a small severance.”

Oliver waddled over to Gillian, falling down once before quickly pulling himself back to his feet and taking her hand.

“Huhp,” he said, his head tilting back to look up at the woman who’d been more of a mother to him than his own.

“I appreciate how much you have cared for him. He adores you, but from now on it’s just him and me.”

Despite a solid attempt at composure, her expression wavered. “I understand, sir. I’ll take care of everything. Thank you.”

I walked to the door and scooped Oliver into my arms, carrying him down the hall.

“How about we paint?” I suggested, smiling at the enthusiasm his eyes held. “And then I think we need a trip. Can you say ‘trip’?”