Chapter 1 - The Cold Pasta
Daniel stood in the doorway of his own kitchen, entirely unsure of what to do with his hands.
He wanted his wife to scream, to throw a ceramic plate against the wall, to act like a normal betrayed woman.
Instead, Claire carefully placed a homemade paper bookmark into her novel and set the book gently on the coffee table.
She looked up at him with an expression that was completely and utterly unreadable.
"What would you like me to say?" she asked again, her voice perfectly level.
Daniel took a slow step forward, feeling like an intruder in his own home.
"You caught me in a lie," he said, trying to force some emotion into the sterile room.
Claire stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles in her gray sweatpants.
"I caught you in a hotel, Daniel."
She walked past him toward the kitchen, her shoulder lightly brushing his chest.
"The pasta is in the glass container on the top shelf," she said over her shoulder.
Daniel felt a sudden, terrifying chill run down his spine.
He had spent years perfecting his corporate negotiations, learning how to read weakness in his opponents.
But looking at the woman he had slept next to for nine years, he saw absolutely nothing he recognized.
He walked into the kitchen and mechanically opened the refrigerator, his mind racing for a strategy.
He scooped the cold pasta onto a plate, eating it standing up just to give himself something to do.
The garlic and oil tasted like ash in his dry mouth.
"Are we just going to ignore this?" he shouted toward the living room.
There was no answer.
Daniel threw his fork into the sink and marched into the hallway, ready to demand a confrontation.
The living room was completely empty.
He ran up the hardwood stairs, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs.
He pushed open the door to their master bedroom, fully expecting to find her packing a suitcase.
Claire was already asleep.
She was tucked under the heavy down comforter, her breathing slow and rhythmic.
Daniel stood at the foot of the bed, feeling completely entirely powerless.
He eventually changed into his pajamas and slid into the bed, lying stiffly on his side of the mattress.
He stared at the ceiling for hours, waiting for her to wake up and start crying.
He must have finally drifted off around four in the morning, exhausted by his own adrenaline.
When the morning sunlight hit his face, Daniel woke up with a sharp gasp.
He rolled over, finding Claire's side of the bed completely empty and cold.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes, noticing the heavy oak door of his walk-in closet was slightly ajar.
Daniel threw off the blankets and rushed into the closet, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor.
He dropped to his knees in the back corner, frantically ripping away the false floorboard.
His hidden biometric floor safe was sitting wide open.
Daniel felt all the blood drain from his face as he stared into the empty metal box.
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It wasn't his emergency cash or his expensive watches that were missing.
The only thing missing was the encrypted black hard drive containing the highly illegal blackmail files on his most powerful corporate clients.
