Our Anniversary Tattoo Marked the End of My Marriage

“The elder prepared all of this for you before he died.”

I studied the terms, thought about the Alpine snow edge, the reflective canals of Venice, and that vintage watch.

Then I called Rosalie.

After three ringing tones, I switched to a video call, and the face on the screen was Fritz’s.

“Brother Keagan?”

“Rosalie is showering.”

A faint mark showed along his collarbone, and his face carried the content look of a man fully indulged.

He no longer resembled the shy, thin boy he once was.

“Honestly, there’s something I’m unsure whether I should mention, but I think you’ll learn it sooner or later.”

“Do you know?”

“Rosalie said the thing she dislikes most about you is your always-calm manner.”

“She’s obsessed with me in bed. She says she loves how young and untamed I am, that I make her feel so good she almost loses control.”

Fritz paused, then continued, pride clear in his voice.

“Oh, and back when you arranged for someone to take a piece of skin from me, leaving that large mark…”

“Rosalie felt bad for me, so she willingly had part of her own skin taken to be grafted onto mine…”

The video cut off without warning.

I gripped the window ledge to keep myself upright.

After waiting for my pulse to settle, I called another number.

That same night, the charity auction Rosalie organized for Fritz rose to the top of the trending searches.

The screen overflowed with posts saying “Mr. Porter makes his first public appearance as the male host.”

Guests stopped bringing up his past as a tattoo worker, instead politely addressing him as “Mr. Porter.”

Some overly flattering attendees even lifted their champagne glasses, praising, “The two of you really make a perfect pair.”

Beneath the bright lights of the banquet hall, Rosalie led Fritz toward the auction platform.

Their fingers were tightly linked under the cameras like newlyweds standing on a grand wedding stage, and applause burst out the moment they appeared.

“Taking this opportunity tonight…”

Rosalie gently adjusted Fritz’s tie, “I want to formally announce—”

The carved doors of the hall suddenly flew open with a loud crash, and more than a dozen lawyers in suits strode in quickly.

The leading middle-aged man set a stock freeze notice in front of Rosalie.

“Miss Snyder.”

“According to the terms arranged by Mr. Foster before his death…”

Rosalie was about to call for security when she realized every staff member had disappeared.

The man pushed the document closer. “All Snyder-held shares under your name have been fully frozen.”