Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Thrown to the Wolves

Melanie's POV

The ink on the divorce papers was still wet when Jaden's security guards grabbed my arms. Their grip was firm, unyielding, like I was some criminal being dragged from the scene of a crime. Maybe I was. Maybe loving him had been my greatest crime.

"Get your hands off me!" I jerked away, but another guard blocked my path to the stairs. "I need to get my things. My clothes, my jewelry.."

"Mr. Oscar's orders, ma'am." The head of security, Marcus, a man who'd opened doors for me just yesterday, wouldn't meet my eyes. "You're to leave immediately. Nothing in this house belongs to you anymore."

"Nothing belongs to me?" My voice cracked. "I lived here for years! Those are my things.."

"They were gifts from Mr. Oscar," Mrs. Oscar's shrill voice cut through the foyer. She descended the stairs like a queen approaching her execution block, phone in hand, recording. "Everything you wore, everything you touched, bought with his money. You brought nothing to this marriage except your pathetic desperation."

The phone's camera lens felt like a weapon pointed at my face. I wanted to knock it from her wrinkled hands, but the guards tightened their grip.

"You can't do this," I whispered, hating how weak I sounded. "I have rights.."

"Rights?" She cackled, the sound echoing off the marble floors I'd once walked barefoot on summer mornings. "You signed them all away, darling. Didn't even read the fine print, did you? So eager to escape, so proud." She leaned closer, her expensive perfume mixing with the stench of her cruelty. "Jaden made sure you'd leave with exactly what you deserved. Nothing."

Behind her, I could see Erica watching from the living room doorway, David tucked against her side. My son, no, not mine anymore, looked at me with cold, distant eyes. Betty was nowhere to be seen. Probably already in bed, having forgotten me entirely.

"David.." I reached toward him, and the guards yanked me back.

"Don't talk to my son." Erica's voice was silk wrapped around steel. "You've done enough damage."

My son. She'd claimed him in two words. Five years of midnight fevers, scraped knees, bedtime stories, erased. Gone.

"Move her out." Jaden's voice drifted from upstairs. He couldn't even face me. "And for God's sake, do it quietly. The neighbors don't need to see this circus."

But Mrs. Oscar had other plans. She followed us to the door, filming every stumbling step, narrating like some demented documentary maker. "And here we see the gold digger's final walk of shame. Should've stayed with your rich family, sweetheart. At least they wanted you."

The front door opened to a wall of rain. Of course. Even the weather was against me.

"Please," I tried one last time, turning to Marcus. "Just let me get my phone. My cards. Something.."

"Your phone's been disconnected. Mr. Oscar's orders. Your cards were frozen an hour ago." He almost sounded sorry. Almost. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but you need to leave now."

They pushed me through the doorway. Not hard enough to make me fall, they weren't monsters, not quite, but firm enough that I stumbled onto the wet driveway. The door slammed behind me with a finality that echoed in my chest.

I stood there, frozen, as rain soaked through my designer blouse, the one Jaden had bought me last month. Everything I wore belonged to him. Even my identity felt borrowed now.

"Smile for the camera!" Mrs. Oscar's voice shrieked from an upstairs window. I looked up to see her still filming, that phone capturing my destruction. "This is going on the family chat first. Then maybe I*******m. Let everyone see what happens to social-climbing whores!"

I wanted to scream. To throw rocks at those pristine windows. To set the whole villa ablaze and dance in the ashes. Instead, I turned and walked toward the gate, each step heavier than the last.

The electronic gate opened automatically, one last mercy, or maybe they just wanted me gone faster. I stepped onto the street, and it clanged shut behind me with mechanical finality. The rain fell harder now, plastering my hair to my face, mixing with tears I couldn't stop.

I had nothing. No phone to call for help. No money for a taxi. No family to run to, not after burning those bridges to marry Jaden. My parents had warned me. "He's using you," my father had said. "You're just a replacement for his first wife." I'd called him controlling, accused him of trying to run my life with his arranged marriage schemes.

Oh God. They'd been right. They'd all been right. My legs gave out. I collapsed onto the wet sidewalk, my expensive clothes soaking up rainwater and grime. Sobs tore from my throat, ugly, broken sounds that matched the shattered pieces of my heart.

How long I sat there, I don't know. Minutes? Hours? The rain numbed everything until I couldn't feel my fingers, couldn't feel anything except the gaping wound where my life used to be.

Headlights cut through the darkness. A car approached, a black Rolls-Royce, sleek and expensive, water beading off its polished surface. It slowed, then stopped directly in front of me. I didn't move. Maybe it was someone coming to finish what Jaden started. Maybe I didn't care anymore.

The back window rolled down smoothly. A driver in a crisp black suit stepped out with an umbrella, shielding himself from the rain. He approached me with measured steps, then extended his hand.

"Mrs. Oscar?" His voice was professional, neutral.

"Not anymore," I whispered.

"Ms. Melanie, then." He produced a thick manila envelope from inside his jacket. "This is for you."

I stared at it like it might bite. "What is it?"

"Cash. Enough for immediate needs. And a phone." He pressed it into my trembling hands. "Someone's watching over you."

"Who?" I looked up at him, but his face was unreadable in the darkness. "Who sent you?"

"Someone who believes you deserve better than this." He glanced back at the villa, a flicker of something, disgust? pity? crossing his features. "You should get somewhere warm. Dry. Safe."

"I don't have anywhere.."

"You will." He turned back toward the car, then paused. "Check the phone. You have options, Ms. Melanie. Use them wisely."

Before I could respond, he was gone, the Rolls-Royce gliding away into the rain-soaked night like a phantom.

With shaking hands, I opened the envelope. Stacks of bills, hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars. And a simple burner phone, the cheap kind you'd buy at a convenience store. No frills. No tracking. The phone buzzed in my palm, vibrating against my frozen fingers. A text message.

Unknown Number: You want revenge? Meet me at Rosewood Hotel, Room 1408. Come alone.

I stared at the screen, rain dripping from my nose onto the phone's cracked plastic case. Rosewood Hotel. The most exclusive hotel in the city. Room 1408.

Someone was offering me a lifeline. Or a trap. Either way, what did I have to lose?

I stood on shaking legs, clutching the envelope and phone to my chest. My reflection caught in a parked car's window, a drowned rat in designer clothes, mascara streaking down her face, eyes hollow with betrayal.

This wasn't how my story would end. Jaden, Erica, Mrs. Oscar, even David and Betty, they'd thrown me to the wolves. They forgot that sometimes, the wolves raise you as their own.

I turned toward the main road, toward the city lights gleaming in the distance, toward the Rosewood Hotel and whoever waited in Room 1408. Toward revenge…..