LOGINEvangeline POV
I didn’t know how I made it up the stairs. I barely felt my feet moving. Everything around me was just a blur of walls and furniture, my vision tunneled by the furious pounding of my heart. I shoved open our bedroom door and lunged for the closet. My hands were trembling so hard I could barely pull down the suitcase from the top shelf. It crashed onto the floor with a loud thud. I didn’t care. I dropped to my knees and yanked open drawers, grabbing whatever clothes I could, stuffing them into the suitcase without folding, without thinking. My fingers burned, my throat was raw from holding back the scream clawing its way up. How could he? How could he do this to me? The bedroom door slammed open behind me. "Evangeline!" Nathan's voice roared through the room. I didn’t turn. I didn’t stop packing. I heard him cross the room in two angry strides. I barely had time to react before he grabbed my wrist and yanked me back hard. "Where the hell do you think you’re going?" he growled, his grip bruising. Without thinking, I spun around — and slapped him. The sound cracked through the air like a gunshot. He stumbled back a step, stunned, holding his cheek. "Don’t you ever fucking touch me again!" I screamed, my voice shaking with rage, with betrayal, with the kind of heartbreak that made your whole body tremble. Nathan stared at me, his chest heaving, his face red. And then he laughed. A hollow, ugly sound. "You’re seriously leaving because of this?" he sneered, wiping his mouth. "Oh, come on, Evangeline. Don’t act like you’re some innocent saint." I froze, my fists clenching at my sides. "What the hell are you talking about?" I hissed. "You really wanna stand there," he said, stepping closer, "and pretend like you’ve been the perfect wife? Like you didn’t abandon this family long before today?" I shook my head, blinking in disbelief. "I worked for this family, Nathan. Every damn day. I broke my back trying to provide because someone—" I jabbed my finger at him "—was too lazy to lift a damn finger!" His mouth twisted into a sneer. "Oh, is that what you call it? Providing?" he spat. "Running off every night to your 'business dinners' and 'conferences' and staying late at the office? You think I don’t know how you got all those promotions?" I stared at him, stunned. "You think I didn’t hear the rumors?" Nathan said, his voice dripping with venom. "Everyone knows. Everyone fucking knows you were sleeping your way up the ladder. Probably fucking your bosses every chance you got." My breath caught painfully in my throat. He smirked, seeing the hurt flash across my face. "Yeah," he said, voice low and mocking. "Keep it up, Evangeline. Maybe you’ll be CEO soon. All you gotta do is spread your legs a little wider." The room tilted. I staggered back a step, the words hitting harder than any slap. For a second, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. "You... you really think that little of me?" I finally whispered, my voice cracking. Nathan shrugged carelessly. "You weren’t here," he said coldly. "You were never here. Someone else had to be." Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I forced my chin up, my voice steady even as my heart splintered. "And maybe," I said quietly, "if you’d bothered to get off your lazy ass and help provide for this family, I wouldn’t have had to kill myself working jobs and missing every goddamn milestone of my child’s life." His jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. "I didn’t ask you to become a man," he snapped. "I didn’t ask you to act like some fucking breadwinner." "Someone had to!" I shouted, the dam finally breaking. "Someone had to keep the lights on! Someone had to make sure our son had clothes and food and a goddamn roof over his head!" I swiped angrily at my eyes. "And while I was out there fighting for us, you were sitting here — jobless, hopeless — fucking the nanny!" Nathan’s eyes flashed with something I couldn’t read — anger, shame, hatred — and he took a step toward me. But I straightened, my voice dropping to a deadly calm. "Don't you fucking dare," I hissed. He froze. I took a deep breath, the air burning in my lungs. "If you so much as touch me again," I said slowly, enunciating every word, "I will scream so loud the neighbors will come running. And I will tell Noah exactly what his daddy did." Nathan flinched, his face paling slightly. I turned back to the suitcase and started shoving the last of my things inside. My hands were trembling, but I forced them to move. This was it. I was done. "You’re really gonna destroy everything over one mistake?" Nathan said, his voice quieter now. Desperate. I zipped up the suitcase and yanked it upright. "You destroyed it," I said flatly. "The second you touched her, you destroyed everything." I grabbed the handle of the suitcase and marched toward the door. Nathan blocked my path. "You’re overreacting," he said, his voice low, pleading. "You don’t have to do this, Evangeline. You’re just upset. Let’s just... talk about this. Calm down." I stared at him, feeling absolutely nothing anymore. "I want a divorce," I said. The words tasted bitter and final on my tongue. Nathan’s face crumpled, but I didn’t wait for a response. I shoved past him, my suitcase thudding heavily down each step as I dragged it behind me. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, she was there. Lora. Standing awkwardly in the hallway, her hands twisting in front of her. I paused at the foot of the stairs. For a long moment, we just stared at each other. She opened her mouth — maybe to apologize, maybe to beg — but I didn’t let her. I smiled. A cold, brittle smile. "Take good care of him," I said, my voice dripping with a venom I didn’t bother to hide. Her face flushed deep red, and she looked away. I turned without another word, yanked the front door open, and stepped out into the sunlight. The door slammed behind me with a final, satisfying bang. The cool air hit my face. But this time, it didn’t hurt. It woke me up. I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t know how I would explain this to Noah. How I had given up on him. I didn’t know how I was going to rebuild my life from the ashes he had left behind. But I knew one thing. I was done being the woman who stayed and pretended. I was done being the woman who sacrificed everything and got nothing. From now on, I would be the woman who chose herself. Even if it killed me. I took a step down the porch — and that’s when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I yanked it out, still shaking. A new message from Nora, my colleague at work. I frowned, swiping it open. "You're needed at the company tommorow as early as possible, a new CEO has been reinstated and demands all employees presence at once, he's terrifying"Two days later.The quiet hum of the city outside my window had become a strange kind of lullaby. The storm of cameras and flashing headlines that had chased me the day I took my seat as chairwoman had slowly dulled into something less blinding, though still relentless. Every time I lifted my phone, my name was somewhere on the screen, trending, admired, envied, doubted.But here, in this office, there was only silence. A silence that belonged to me.I sat at the desk, the desk that had once belonged to Hunter, now mine its polished wood gleaming beneath the faint spill of afternoon sunlight. Papers lay scattered across it: proposals, contracts, half-read memos from restless board members still learning what it meant to have me at the helm.I traced the rim of my coffee cup with my finger, trying to focus on the lines of text in front of me. But my mind wandered. It wandered to Damien.Two days had passed since that evening since the bath, since the way his hands had found me in the
Evangeline's POV The corridors outside the boardroom were quiet, almost reverent, but I could feel the storm waiting beyond the polished mahogany doors. Every step I took echoed too loudly in my ears. My heels clicked on the marble, the sound precise and strong, but my heart thudded in a rhythm that betrayed me. I had been in this room before once, as a shadow to Damien, the man whose presence always seemed to command every corner of the space. But today, it wasn’t Damien they were waiting for. It was me. The new chairwoman. I pushed open the doors and entered. The boardroom stretched wide and severe long polished table, leather chairs, a wall of glass that overlooked the city skyline. And in those chairs sat men and women who had run this company long before my name was tied to it. Their gazes cut across the room the moment I stepped inside. Some were curious. Some openly resentful. A few, like Mrs. Patel, practically radiated disdain. I refused to flinch. I walked to the he
Evangeline's POVEvery step I took felt like an announcement—not just of my presence, but of my return. After weeks of whispers, speculations, and headlines that dissected me like a carcass for the vultures, here I was. Alive. Whole. Walking back into the company that bore my name now, not anyone else’s.The plaque at the entrance gleamed under the light:EvaHunter Rocks Ltd.The sight of it tugged something deep inside me. Pride, fear, responsibility, all tangled in one knot that sat heavily in my chest. This wasn’t just a building anymore. It wasn’t just my father’s legacy, or Damien’s name, or a dynasty passed down like an heirloom. It was mine. Mine to carry. Mine to defend.A receptionist stood, startled, then quickly composed herself. “Chairwoman Harts,” she greeted, her voice respectful but laced with awe.Chairwoman.The word wrapped itself around me, unfamiliar yet intoxicating.“Good morning,” I replied, forcing a calm I didn’t fully feel.Behind me, Damien’s presence was un
Evangeline's POVThe following dayThe alarm went off far too soon. I stared at the ceiling, the faint glow of morning brushing across it, and felt the familiar knot twist in my stomach. Today was the day. My return. My first step back into the company after everything, the abduction, the endless speculation, the questions that burned hotter than truth itself.I hadn’t left the house since Damien dragged me away from the storm of microphones and cameras two days ago. Those moments still rang in my ears: the shouts, the accusations, the piercing flashes that seemed to sear through my skin.“Miss Harts! Did he really save you?”“Mr. Hunter, are you two together?”“Evangeline, what are you hiding?”They wanted stories, not answers.And I—I wasn’t sure I had either to give.I swung my legs over the side of the bed and pressed my feet against the rug. My whole body felt heavy, like the weight of the world had found new ways to bury itself into my bones.The sound of the door clicking open
Evangeline's POVThe surface of the water rippled faintly as I sank deeper into the tub, steam curling in soft threads around me. Two days had passed since the chaos outside the gates, since Damien had shielded me from flashing lights and poisonous questions. And still, the memory clung to me like the faint scent of smoke after a fire.I had barely left the quiet corners of the house since. The world outside hungered for pieces of me I wasn’t ready to give, twisting my name into something foreign, something scandalous. But in here, in this room filled with mist and silence—I could almost believe I was safe.Almost.I closed my eyes, letting my head rest against the porcelain edge, my hair damp and clinging to my skin. The water lapped at my collarbones, fragrant with the faint trace of lavender oil someone probably him had thought to set out for me. It was indulgent, almost too much.But I was learning something about Damien Hunter. He had a way of giving without asking, protecting wi
Damien's POV The headlights cut through the darkness as I turned into the long stretch leading toward the city. Civilization had a way of creeping up on you, first the distant glow, then the faint hum of traffic, then the flood of it all, sudden and inescapable.Evangeline had fallen silent again, her hand still resting lightly in mine on the console, as though she wasn’t ready to let go. That fragile contact kept me grounded, steadied the storm that churned beneath my skin.But the storm wasn’t over.The closer we got, the more unease built in my gut. My instincts had been sharpened by years of surviving ambushes, betrayals, and the kind of bloodshed that left its stain long after. And now, they screamed at me that danger wasn’t just in bullets.Sometimes it came dressed in microphones and camera flashes.As we rounded the last corner, my jaw clenched. They were already there dozens of them, press lined along the barricades in front of the gated drive. The night pulsed with their vo







