004 | How Could You?

"There she is. My princess!" Simon Hemsworth rose to his feet the moment he saw Harper. With hair streaked silver, piercing grey eyes, and an intimidating build that made most people uneasy, no one would have guessed how warm he could be.

"It's okay to cry," he told her, and she let out a sob as he hugged her.

They had met six years ago, at the hospital where she worked. She had saved his life that night. In the process, the truth had come out—she was his daughter, switched at birth with the maid's child.

"I'm sorry," she croaked.

He'd warned her. Over and over. That Malakai would make her unhappy. That love without respect would destroy her. He had even asked her to leave the marriage, promising to give her everything she needed in return.

She had refused.

And because of that choice, Harper had never truly lived as the heiress of the Hemsworth Group. She had chosen love instead.

"So, what are you going to do after the divorce is finalized?" Simon asked his daughter a while later.

"I'd like to get back to work," she replied, meeting his gaze.

"I can appoint you Chief Medical Officer of Hemsworth Medical Group," he said. "You'd oversee all clinical operations across our hospitals."

Harper shook her head. "I don't want the CMO seat."

Simon studied her. "Why?"

"Because I'm a cardiologist first," she replied calmly. "And because the fastest way to silence every doubt is excellence which they can't dispute."

He didn't interrupt.

"I want to be appointed Consultant Cardiologist at Hemsworth General," she continued, "and Principal Investigator for the Cardiovascular Innovation Trial Unit."

Simon's eyes sharpened.

"That unit controls grant funding and trial approvals," he said slowly.

"Exactly," Harper replied. "If I lead a successful cardiology trial, my authority won't come from my name. It'll come from results."

"And as for management?" he asked.

"I'll take Associate Medical Director for Cardiovascular Services," she said. "Limited scope. Full access."

A slow smile curved his lips.

"When you're ready to take the CMO role," he said, "no one will dare question it."

"Of course, dad."

Simon chuckled, taking a sip of his juice. His heart swelled with pride for his daughter. No doubt, she was just like her mother. If only she was alive...

...

Days passed in a blur, and Harper's divorce papers were ready. For the sake of the kids, she'd returned to the house, and now, the time had come. Malakai had avoided her since that day at the garden, sleeping late and waking up very early.

Harper gently opened the door to his study and walked over to his desk. It was as neat as always. He kept his properties in order while his own home was in shambles. She placed the file on his desk and heaved a sigh.

This was for the best. Just as she was about to walk away, she noticed a photo turned upside down on the floor. But just as she bent over to pick it up, she heard voices from the hallway.

"Harper!"

It was Malakai. She frowned, straightening and hurrying out of his study. And there he was, stumbling towards her with his beige coat on his arm. A few buttons of his white shirt were unbuttoned to reveal his toned chest.

She had never seen him so disoriented. By the time he halted right in front of him, she smelled it. Alcohol.

"How could you?" He growled, his voice cracking with pain.

She said nothing, merely blinking at him.

"How could you just agree to let me go?" He asked, his eyes turning glassy.

"I'm exhausted," she replied softly, her eyes welling up with tears. She loved him so much, it hurt. But she couldn't go on like this.

"Exhausted?"

He laughed cruelly, moving closer. She shuffled backwards the closer he came, her heart jackhammering in her ears.

"What? Did all of those men wear you out? Hmm?" He asked, and heat crept up her face.

"What?"

"You heard me," Malakai spat. "Be honest, you have been cheating from the start, haven't you?"

Harper felt her head spin, disgust washing over her. Who was this man? This was definitely not the man she married. How could he accuse her of such a vile thing, especially after what he did?

"You know what? I'm not going to argue with you. We're done. Why should I waste my energy on you?"

Malakai stared at her with an expression of raw pain. The kind she'd never seen on him before. He reached for her face, his wedding band glistening on his shaking hand.

"I—"

His knees buckled, and she caught him, her arms straining to hold him up.

"Pull yourself together, Malakai," she breathed, ducking under his arm and helping him to their room. He collapsed on the bed, his eyes closed.

Groaning in annoyance, Harper proceeded to take off his shoes and socks, along with his coat. She considered it her final duty and headed to the closet.

A tear slipped down the corner of Malakai’s eye, the weight of the past few days crashing down on him. He had never felt so lonely. He deserved this, didn't he?

By morning, Malakai stirred awake with a groan.

Pain stabbed through his temples and behind his eyes as he sat up too fast. His stomach lurched. He barely made it to the bathroom before retching, gripping the porcelain as bile burned his throat.

He gagged, coughed, and spat, his hair dipping into his eyes.

"Fuck..." he rasped, flushing and resting his forehead against the cool tile.

His head throbbed mercilessly. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten home, only fragments of a bar, clinking glasses, and the dull need to drown everything out.

After rinsing up, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pushed himself upright, swaying slightly.

His reflection looked wrong. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw was stubbled, and even his suit pants were wrinkled.

Had Harper slept in the sitting room?

The thought made him feel uneasy.

Grinding his teeth against the pounding in his skull, Malakai stepped out into the hallway, his phone in his grip.

"Harper?" His voice sounded hoarse even to himself.

There was no answer.

The sitting room was empty. No blanket on the couch. No mug on the coffee table. Nothing to suggest she'd been there at all.

He slowed when he reached Summer's room. Her birthday was in two days. He stepped inside, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Summer?" he called softly, only to freeze when he saw that the room was bare.

Her bed was stripped. The pink dragon plush she never slept without was gone. Her clothes, everything else...gone.

His chest tightened.

"No," he muttered, turning in a slow circle. "No, no—"

He backed out and moved quickly down the hall, his pulse picking up despite the hangover weighing him down.

He opened the door to Theo's room. His son's things—diapers, formula, toys—had vanished as if they'd never existed.

Cold dread slid down his spine. Malakai staggered back, his breathing heavy.

"What the hell..." he whispered.

His gaze lifted and locked onto the door at the end of the corridor. His study.

It was open. He knew he'd closed it.

His heart began to pound hard as he crossed the hallway.

Did she see them? The divorce papers. The ones he'd left on his desk after the memorial.

He stepped inside, and his eyes went straight to the desk. The file sat right at the center, untouched. But there was a different one there too. It was hanging open.

His name stared back at him in stark black print.

DIVORCE AGREEMENT.

His hands trembled as he reached for it. Harper had signed it already. The air left his lungs in a rush. She hadn't begged or argued. She just left.

"Fuck..." he breathed, his vision blurring.

Then he saw the second document. It was tucked neatly beneath the divorce papers.

His brows knit together as he lifted it with shaking fingers.

It was a business proposal.

No, it was more than that. It was a fully structured acquisition plan. His name was listed as the lead beneficiary.

Malakai’s stomach dropped.

This wasn't a draft. It was fully prepared.

He flipped through the pages faster now, his pulse roaring in his ears. This was the deal he'd been struggling with for months. The one he'd nearly lost a major investor over.

She'd solved it, without ever telling him.

At the back of the file was a single sticky note, written in her handwriting.

'I hope this helps. This was supposed to be your birthday gift.'

The paper slipped from his fingers. Malakai’s knees buckled, and he sank to the floor with a strangled noise.

"What have I done?" He choked out, his broad shoulders trembling.

His phone rang then. It was his best friend, Andrei, calling.

"Turn on the news, Kai! You have to see this. It's about Harper!"