Chapter 2

ELEANOR’S POV:

If anyone had told me that after the funeral, I would still have tears to cry, I would have never believed it, but I did. As they streamed down my cheeks, I found my words going back down my throat as I staggered.

“Fuck. Elle.” Roberto gasped, still buried inches deep in his secretary, who was on all fours.

I didn’t have any words. Even if I did, would I waste them on him? Definitely not.

Wiping my tears, I rushed downstairs, almost slipping as I grabbed my bag. I was done. With this marriage, Roberto, everything that caused me pain, in fact.

“Elle, wait!” He caught up with me as he held on to my hand, his manhood dangling between his legs, and guess what? It looked perfect.

“It was all a lie, wasn’t it? Your condition—” My voice cracked as I threw him the tablecloth, letting him cover up with it as he dripped cum over the place. 

“What did you expect, Elle? Did you really think it was real? I’m a man, Eleanor, and even if it were real, I’d have had it treated before getting married.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. 

“Even if my condition was real, you didn’t try to even—“

“There’s no need for that, Robert. The whole conversation, it’s not worth it. You were going to divorce her, weren’t you?” Seeing Beatrice come down in one of my nightwears, some papers in her hands, I felt anger course through my veins.

Divorce.

I grabbed the papers from her as I nodded. They were divorce papers.

“Enjoy.” Without thinking anything through, letting my anger and heartbreak get the best of me, I signed the papers. Only after getting to the last page did I see the final clause.

After signing, party B (which happened to be me) has no right to demand returns to her ideas.

Before I could process anything, Beatrice grabbed the file, as if everything had been planned, and a lawyer came from the kitchen, stamping it, and I couldn’t believe this.

I knew one thing, though, and that was the fact that if I remained there one more moment, I would burst into tears. That was one thing I couldn’t give them the privilege to see.

Starting to feel dizzy, I rushed out of the house with my bag, going in no direction till my legs finally gave way, and not taking note of my surroundings, I passed out.

Slowly opening my eyes, it was my head aching and the sun getting into my eyes. As I scrunch my face to block the sunlight, a shirtless and well-built man appeared in front of me, closing the curtains.

“You’re awake.”

Opening my eyes, I almost choked on who I saw— Anderson. Robert’s uncle.

I got off the bed quickly as I pulled the sheets to my chest—pretty stupid considering I was dressed— and he chuckled.

“Didn’t mean to wake you.”

I swallowed as I looked around the room. Floor-to-ceiling windows that gave an immaculate view of the city, a cosy master-sized bed, marbled walls, a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, a bar in a room— I couldn’t be home.

Where am I?

As if reading my thoughts, he responded with a calm sigh. “You’re in my house.” I almost choked on his words.

His house? Anderson’s house? What the actual hell? I looked at my body. Pretty unlikely that he’d take advantage of me, but was I really willing to trust anybody who had the same blood as that bastard Robert?

“You collapsed. Outside your father’s house. I happened to be passing by and decided to help you.” He responded, so calmly you’d think he was rubbing his maturity and cool demeanour in my face.

“Thank you.” I whispered as I got off the bed.

I’d collapsed outside my late father’s house. What would have happened had Anderson not found me there? What if the paparazzi had seen? I closed my eyes as I fought back every bit of pity I almost wallowed in.

That bastard Robert. He’d ruined everything. He took everything from me without looking back. After everything I’d done for him, our dreams together, the patience, our promises— he threw it all away, manipulated me, and all for what? A taste of Beatrice.

My heart clenched as I recalled walking in on them having their moment. Their moment. That was supposed to be our moment.

Damn you, Robert.

As all the dreams started to pour back into my mind, I couldn’t help but stagger as I felt my eyes start to water again, and just then, I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder— Anderson.

“Whatever you’re going through, it’s—” I jerked away from him before he could finish speaking.

He definitely was one to console me.

“There’s no need for your consolation. Don’t make me feel pathetic.” With that, I rushed out of the room. I needed to get away. From the house, him, just everything that had to do with Robert.

As I ran out, I couldn’t help but be in awe of how meticulous the house looked, but I didn’t have the time for that. Lucky for me, I found my way to the entrance, rushing out of the compound as I made for the gate, but the moment I walked out the gate, I was swarmed with reporters. It was almost like they’d been waiting for me the whole time.

“Miss Eleanor, can you tell us about your divorce and how it’s affected you? You seem drained—” Whatever the reporter was saying faded the moment that one word took its place in my head.

Divorce.

They knew. I raised my head to see my picture printed on a banner with some other reporters by the other side doing some sort of lousy rundown.

Robert hadn’t even waited for me to breathe before he let it out that we’d divorced. That fucking scumbag.

“You’ve also been charged with bribery and falsification of documents by your ex-husband. What do you have to say about that?” I gasped at their words as they swarmed me, camera flashes almost blinding me, too many voices in my head, air leaving my lungs as I found myself unable to breathe.

I parted my lips to speak, but no words came out. It was like I’d gone dumb, and all I could do was try to move back even though they’d surrounded me from every corner.

“He’s requested you pay $3M for corporation damages. What’s your response to this, Miss Eleanor?”

Three million dollars? No way in hell.

I forced the words up my throat to give a response, but before the words could leave my lips, an engine revved up, causing them to move aside as a sleek, matte black luxury car with an elegant design that exuded sophistication and opulence pulled over in front of me.

The window of the passenger seat was wound down, and my jaw dropped at Anderson in the car. “Get in.” He ordered.

Although I didn’t appreciate his tone, I did appreciate an escape at this moment. Pushing through the reporters that were now surrounding us, I got into the car, shutting the door as he wound up the tinted window.

It was only after I sat and rested my head against the headrest that I realised I hadn’t been breathing the whole time. “Let’s go!” I would have time to catch my breath later. I just needed to get away from these evil souls.

He didn’t listen to me, though. My eyes followed him as he got out of the car, shutting the door behind him as he yanked the ID card of one of the reporters, staring at it before taking his phone and making a call.

I couldn’t understand a word of what he said because he’d been speaking a foreign language, but after he was done with the call, I understood.

Handing the ID card back, he nodded. “B&M reporters, huh? You’re fired.” How his voice managed to sound so hot when he did whatever he did was something I couldn’t wrap my fingers around. Goodness me.

He turned to the other reporters. “You think it’s fun picking on a woman, don’t you? Have you no shame?” He paused as he turned to them; their cameras stopped flashing for a moment.

“You must all know me well by now, and you know I’m not one to repeat myself. Should I see one slandering or personal information about Eleanor on any of your broadcasting channel—” he paused, exuding that powerful aura that sent shivers down my spine even though I was anything but cold right now.

“I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you ever publish.” Without waiting for another moment, he took a stride into the car, shutting the door as he drove off to the backside of the house.