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Elena no longer knew whether she should stay or leave. The man sitting across from her was no longer the loving husband she had once known. Somewhere along the way, the throne they had built together had swallowed him whole. Julian claimed everything he did was to prove his love. But all Elena felt was a blade twisting deeper into her heart. ____ The faint clink of a silver fork against fine porcelain was the only sound in the dining room that night. On the long mahogany table sat a roasted duck with cherry sauce, a plate of grilled asparagus, and a bottle of 2018 Bordeaux. Everything had gone cold. Elena Katherine Vance swirled the wine in her glass. The rim felt cold against her fingers. Her gaze remained fixed beyond the massive windows, where autumn rain fell over London. The streetlights of Mayfair blurred in the distance, looking almost like fading memories. Lonely. This house had always felt lonely, even when she wasn't alone. At the other end of the table sat Julian Montgomery Vance. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, his tie tossed over the back of his chair. He looked exhausted, though the faint scent of expensive cologne still lingered on him. Yet he hadn't touched his steak knife once. Both hands remained busy with his tablet, scrolling through stock reports and global market movements before the U.S. market closed. Dinner had been served two hours ago. Now, only silence remained. "Julian." Elena's voice was soft, nearly drowned out by the rain. Julian didn't look up. "Yeah? I'm listening." His fingers continued scrolling across the screen. A red line dipped sharply on the Zurich tech stocks. Elena took a small sip of wine. It tasted tart on her tongue. "How was the meeting this…