Romane von Empire quill

Damian's povBy midnight, the story was already trending, and I want to be honest about how that felt. It felt good.I sat in my study with a glass of scotch I hadn't touched yet, three screens open in front of me, watching the coverage roll in. The gala footage was everywhere already, someone's phone video from the back of the ballroom, shaky but clear enough to catch every word. The headlines were exactly what my team had promised me they would be."Cole Enterprises CEO Announces Divorce, Cites Concern For Estranged Wife's Wellbeing.""A Difficult Year for Elena Cole, Sources Say."I read that second one twice, slow, satisfied. Nobody had used the word unstable. Nobody had to.Backstage. Forty minutes before the announcement."Say struggled," Vivian my PR had told me, adjusting my tie with the brisk efficiency of a woman who'd done this a hundred times. "Never unstable. Never a diagnosis. Struggled is sympathetic. Unstable is a lawsuit.""And if someone asks me directly what she s

"What exactly is in that box you've been carrying since you walked in here."Marcus's question sat in the kitchen between us, and I found I couldn't answer it yet. Not because I didn't trust him. Because some part of me needed him to understand who Damian had been before I could explain what he'd become, and I didn't think I could do that with the box open on the counter between us, staring back at me like a verdict."Not yet," I said. "I need to tell you something first. About how this started. Not just tonight,all of it."Marcus studied me for a long moment, then exhaled and reached for the kettle instead of pushing. "Then talk. I'm not going anywhere."I was twenty four, three years into volunteering at St. Agatha's, standing at a charity gala in a borrowed dress that didn't quite fit, watching a room full of people whose net worth I couldn't have guessed within several zeros. Priya had needed a plus one. I'd gone because saying no to Priya was harder than saying yes to a room full

Ruth's voice was still ringing in my ears when I pulled back onto the main road, driving faster than I should have, the flashbulbs from the estate still ghosted across my vision every time I blinked.St. Agatha's was quieter at almost one in the morning. Ruth met me halfway down the hall."She's stable," Ruth said quickly. "Her heart rate spiked. We got it under control. I'm sorry if I scared you, but she was asking for you so insistently.""Can I see her?""Not tonight. The doctor wants her to rest. Whatever she needs to tell you, it's going to have to wait until morning."It will have to wait.I stood there for a long moment, feeling the whole weight of the night pressing down at once, the ballroom, the eviction, the cameras, and now this, another closed door."Call me the second anything changes," I said."I will."I drove to Marcus's apartment because I no longer had anywhere else that qualified as mine.He opened the door before I even knocked. "I saw the coverage. The estate, the

I didn't even make it upstairs when I got home.I turned into the private drive and found it blocked by two black SUVs I didn't recognize. A man in a dark suit stepped forward before I'd put the car in park."Mrs. Cole. I'm going to need you to come with me, please.""This is my home.""Mr. Cole's legal team requested that any personal items be collected under supervision, effective tonight. I have a list of what's been approved for you to take."A list. Of my own life, approved for removal.I sat there for one long moment and let myself feel the shape of it. Hours ago I had been his wife. Now I was a line item on somebody's clipboard."Fine," I said, and got out before my voice could do anything else without my permission.The house looked exactly the same as it always had, warm light behind tall windows, the fountain still running because no one had thought to turn it off. It hadn't noticed anything had happened. Only I had.A woman with a tablet met me inside, another man statione

The champagne was still cold when my husband ended our marriage in front of three hundred people.I felt it before I understood it. A shift in the air, the way conversations around me dropped half a register all at once. I was standing near the ice sculpture, a glass sweating in my hand that I hadn't touched, when I noticed every head at the far end of the ballroom had turned toward the little stage where the string quartet usually played.Damian was standing on it instead.He looked good up there. He always looked good, that was the whole design of him, six foot two of tailored charcoal wool and a jaw that photographed better than most actors'. He tapped the microphone once, twice, the sound cracking through the room like a snapped wrist."If I could have everyone's attention," he said, and smiled the smile that used to make me forget my own name.My stomach dropped before my mind caught up. I knew that smile. I'd spent five years learning to read it the way sailors read weather, the