DEVIN FREE

ELAINE

The sound of the gavel hitting the block echoed through the courtroom, and I felt like I could finally breathe again.

The judge’s words—“The divorce is hereby finalized”—rang in my ears like a sweet melody.

I glanced over at Devin, sitting a few feet away from me, looking like someone had just sucker-punched him. His mouth hung open slightly, and his eyes were wide with disbelief.

If I didn’t despise him so much, I might’ve laughed. But instead, I just smiled—a real, genuine, ear-to-ear smile.

This was it. I was free.

As soon as the judge stepped out, I practically skipped out of the courtroom. My heels clicked against the marble floor, my steps light for the first time in years.

I felt weightless, like I’d just shed a hundred pounds of dead weight.

“Elaine!” Gigi’s voice rang out from the hall.

She stood there, leaning against the wall in a bright red jumpsuit, her curls bouncing as she waved at me. She was impossible to miss, radiating confidence like she owned the whole damn building.

I rushed over to her, throwing my arms around her.

“It’s done,” I said, my voice filled with relief. “It’s finally over.”

“I knew you’d do it!” Gigi squealed, hugging me back tightly. She pulled away, her brown eyes sparkling. “How does it feel to be officially Devin-free?”

“Like I just got out of prison,” I admitted, laughing.

“As you should,” she said with a grin. “This calls for a celebration. Something big. Something—”

Before she could finish, I heard his voice behind me, sharp and bitter.

“Elaine!”

I turned to see Devin storming out of the courtroom, his face flushed with anger.

“You’re making a huge mistake,” he spat, his voice loud enough to draw a few curious stares. “You think you’re better off without me? You think you’re gonna do better than me?”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. For someone who couldn’t bother to fight for our marriage when it actually mattered, he suddenly had a lot to say now.

“Devin,” I said calmly, crossing my arms. “This conversation is over. Just like our marriage.”

“You’re such a slut,” he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. “I bet you’re pimping yourself out to rich men, just like your little friend here.” He jerked his chin toward Gigi, who raised an eyebrow, looking completely unbothered.

“Oh, hell no,” Gigi said, stepping forward. “Say one more word, and I swear I’ll—”

“It’s not worth it, G,” I interrupted, holding up a hand. I turned my full attention to Devin, my voice steady and cold. “You can call me whatever you want, but at least I’m not the one who sat on my ass for years, leeching off someone else. You were a loser when I met you, and you’re an even bigger loser now. So do me a favor—go back to whatever hole you crawled out of and stay there.” I dismissed him with a wave of my hand like a pesky fly he was.

Devin opened his mouth to argue, but Gigi cut him off by flipping him the bird.

“Bye, Devin,” she said with a sweet, sarcastic smile.

I grabbed Gigi’s arm, pulling her toward the exit.

“Let’s go,” I said, my voice light.

We stepped out into the bright afternoon sun, and Gigi led me to her convertible parked at the curb. It was bright yellow and obnoxiously flashy—just like her.

She slid into the driver’s seat while I climbed into the passenger side, tossing my bag at my feet. As soon as the engine roared to life, she glanced over at me, her grin widening.

“So,” she said, putting on her oversized sunglasses. “Where to? Spa? Shopping spree? Fancy dinner?”

I shook my head, laughing.

“Honestly, I just want to let loose. Go somewhere loud, somewhere fun.” I said. Her grin turned devilish.

“Oh, honey, say no more. We’re going clubbing.” She announced.

“Clubbing?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Absolutely,” she said, pulling out into the street. “We’re gonna dance, we’re gonna drink, and we’re gonna celebrate your freedom in the best way possible.”

I felt a bubble of excitement rise in my chest. It had been so long since I’d done anything just for me—anything fun.

“Okay,” I said, nodding. “Let’s do it.”

“That’s my girl!” Gigi cheered, speeding up as we zipped through the city streets.

The wind whipped through my platinum blonde hair, and for the first time in years, I felt alive.

No more Devin. No more misery.

Just me, my best friend, and the start of a brand-new chapter.

****

The bass from the club’s speakers pulsed through the walls, vibrating in my chest as Gigi and I strode through the entrance.The place was packed, the air thick with energy, laughter, and the faint scent of expensive cologne.

Heads turned the moment we walked in, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t shy away from the attention.

I felt beautiful.

My platinum blonde hair cascaded in soft waves down my back, catching the neon lights and giving it an ethereal glow.

The fitted black dress Gigi had practically forced me into hugged every curve, the plunging neckline and high slit leaving little to the imagination.

My silver heels clicked against the floor with every step, and with each click, I felt more like the woman I wanted to be—the one who wasn’t weighed down by bills, a deadbeat ex-husband, and work.

Gigi walked beside me, equally stunning in her red bodycon dress that matched her bold lipstick.

“Girl, you’re turning heads left and right,” She leaned in, her voice loud enough to be heard over the music. “If you don’t snag a rich man tonight, I swear I’m disowning you.” She playfully threatened.

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re insane.”

“Insanely right,” she shot back, winking. “Look at you. You’re a goddess, Elaine. Own it.”

Her words made my cheeks flush, but deep down, they filled me with confidence.

She was right—tonight wasn’t about Devin or the past. Tonight was about me.

We made our way to the bar, slipping onto two stools. Gigi flagged down the bartender with the wave of her perfectly manicured hand.

“Two martinis, extra dirty,” she ordered before turning back to me. “So, let’s scout.” she said, smirking as the bartender prepared our drinks.

“Scout?” I raised an eyebrow, amused.

“For men, obviously.” She tilted her head toward the crowd. “It’s a target-rich environment, babe. We’ve got options.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, taking a sip of the martini the bartender slid in front of me.

“Fine. Let’s do it.” I agreed.

Together, we started scanning the room, pointing out potential suitors and assessing them with ridiculous scrutiny.

“Too short,” Gigi said, dismissing one guy.

“Too cocky,” I added, watching another who seemed way too into himself. “God forbid I snag another Devin.”

We went through at least four before Gigi suddenly gasped, grabbing my arm.

“Oh. My. God. Look at the VIP section. Eleven o’clock.”

I turned, following her line of sight, and that’s when I saw him.

My breath caught in my throat.

Fuck!

He sat casually in one of the VIP booths, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. The low lighting highlighted his olive skin and the sharp cut of his jawline. His dark hair, slightly curly, framed his face perfectly.

But it was his eyes—harsh, dark green, and piercing—that completely disarmed me. They were intimidating, almost predatory, yet so effortlessly breathtaking that it was impossible to look away.

He was tall—very tall—broad-shouldered and muscular, his black dress shirt stretched across his chest like it was barely holding him in. The top two buttons were undone, revealing a hint of tanned skin and the strong column of his throat.

He exuded power and control, the kind of man who commanded a room without even trying.

And when he lifted his gaze and locked eyes with mine, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

The corner of his mouth twitched, almost like he was amused.

“Holy shit,” Gigi whispered, fanning herself dramatically. “He’s a walking orgasm. Tell me you see that.”

“Oh, I see it,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

“He looks like the kind of guy who could fuck Devin out of your system and then some.” Gigi grinned, nudging me. I bit my lip, trying not to laugh, though the heat rising in my cheeks gave me away.

“He’s… something,” I admitted.

“Something? Babe, that man is everything,” Gigi said with an exaggerated eye roll. “And he’s looking at you like he’s already undressing you with his eyes.”

I swallowed hard, feeling the intensity of his gaze still on me.

But I wasn’t about to make the first move.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “If he wants me, he can come to me.”

“Ooh, I like this new you,” Gigi’s grin widened. “Alright, then. Let’s make him work for it.”

I downed the rest of my martini and slid off the stool.

“I’ll be on the dance floor.”

As I walked toward the thrumming crowd, I felt his eyes follow me, the weight of his stare sending a shiver down my spine. I stepped onto the dance floor, letting the music take over, my hips swaying to the rhythm.

I danced like I hadn’t in years—slow, seductive, every movement deliberate. I could still feel his gaze, hot and unwavering, and it sent a rush of exhilaration through me.

Occasionally, I glanced back at him, locking eyes just long enough to draw him in before looking away again.

Then I turned my back to him, letting my hair cascade over my shoulders as I moved. I knew he was watching. I wanted him to watch.

It didn’t take long.

I felt him before I saw him—his presence, his heat. Then his strong arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me close.