Chapter 0008-9

William

Where do I even begin? Anastasia ruined my life. I had to marry her. My grandfather insisted that if I didn’t, I could have lost the company. Honestly, I didn’t care much about the company, but my child? That was different.

I was planning to pull out at the last minute when she told me she was pregnant. I was heartless, but I would never let an innocent child suffer for something they didn’t do. That’s why I went ahead and married her.

I sat at the table staring at the ring, remembering the day I gave it to her. How could she just take it off and leave it behind without my permission? Was she serious about this divorce? But that wouldn’t make sense. Anastasia loved me; she endured all these years, even when I ignored her. So why was she doing this?

I ran a hand through my hair, zoning out as Jimena argued about something. The only thing that snapped me out of my thoughts was the ringtone of my phone. I quickly reached for it and picked up.

"Speak!" I said, sounding more irritated than I meant. It was Vanessa, my secretary.

“I managed to call ten more, and they both agreed not to let Mrs. Rogers stay at their hotel,” she said.

“Good. Listen, I want you to look into where Mrs. Rogers is now,” I instructed.

“Alright, sir.” She hung up.

Jimena interrupted my thoughts. "William, what’s wrong with you?"

“What?” I muttered, a little too harshly.

“Why do you care where she goes? Do you love her?”

“No. Why would you say that, Jimena?” I stood up, slipping the ring into my pocket.

“Because you're acting weird.” She crossed her arms, and I felt an annoying pang of guilt.

“You’re the one acting weird, Jimena. You never cared who I called, or if I cared about Anastasia. Why does it bother you now?” I snapped. She was starting to act like Anastasia, always questioning who I spoke to, monitoring my every move like my boss.

“Well, that was before. Now I’m carrying your child. We’re getting married soon.” She gave me a pout, one of her many tricks.

“And so?” I raised an eyebrow.

“So it bothers me. I’m a woman. It’s normal to get jealous if you care so much for another woman,” she said, her voice slightly rising.

I suddenly wondered, when I was with Jimena before, did Anastasia ever feel the same way, dealing with this kind of jealousy and worry?

“I don’t have time for this.” I turned to leave, but she was quick to block the door.

“No, you’re not leaving until we finish this conversation,” she said, sounding ridiculous.

“Jimena, we can talk tomorrow. ”

“Excuse me? Are you messing with me?” Her voice cracked, and I could see her frustration building.

I exhaled sharply. “Listen, I didn’t mean it that way, okay?”

“Then what is it mean? William. Anastasia signed the divorce papers before you even said anything. I mean, you were going to divorce her anyway.”

Her words stung. I raised my voice. “Enough!” I was done with this conversation. “She only signed the divorce because I told her I was going to divorce her.”

“Exactly, or did you want her to fine you first?” she shot back, her sarcasm cutting through me.

I felt my blood pressure rise.

“You were with me on her birthday, William. Instead of celebrating with her, you were with me, letting Anastasia make excuses for you. So you regret it now?”

The words hit harder than I expected. I felt my chest tighten, my hands curling into fists. “I need her in my own way,” I muttered. “Now move. I don’t want to do something stupid.”

“Wait, what? Are you threatening me?” Her eyes widened, and I knew I was losing control. I didn’t want to do something I’d regret.

I pushed past her, heading for the stairs, not caring if she yelled after me. I needed to leave.

I grabbed the keys and closed the door behind me, locking it as Jimena pounded on it, demanding I open up. I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head, and walked to my car.

I didn’t care which one I took. I was so out of it that I picked the car I least liked. I needed to drive, but I knew I was in no condition to do so. My mind was all over the place.

As I drove down the road, I had no particular destination in mind. The only thing on my mind was Anastasia signing those divorce papers. If this went public, it could ruin me. I had to fix it somehow.

“Ivy, maybe she called Ivy,” I mumbled to myself, pulling my phone from my pocket. But just as I looked away from the road to get the phone, I heard a truck’s horn blasting.

I snapped my head up just in time to see the large truck barreling toward me. My heart raced. I slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The truck was too close.

I closed my eyes, bracing for impact, unsure if I’d survive this.

Suddenly, everything went still. My car stopped. The truck stopped. I opened my eyes, confused. How had that happened?

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself as people rushed to the car. I couldn’t let them see me. If I did, I’d be all over the news again.

I was about to drive away when a thought struck me. This might be just what I needed. If I could make this incident work in my favor, it would distract everyone from the divorce.

I rolled down the window and let the people around me talk, some offering help, others taking photos. I ignored the attention, focusing on those who seemed genuinely concerned.

“You’re bleeding,” someone said, pointing at my forehead.

I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a small scratch. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough for the media.

“Can you drive? I’ll take you to the hospital,” one person offered.

“No, I’m fine,” I said, shaking my head. I thanked them and drove off, fully aware of how they were snapping photos. I had a plan now. I needed them to believe that something serious had happened.

As I distanced myself from the scene, I sped up and drove straight to a club. I wasn’t in the mood for distractions, but I needed to unwind.

I walked in, ignoring the waitress who offered to escort me. I didn’t want company tonight. I was a VIP, and my table was already reserved. I wasn’t here for the usual entertainment. I just needed liquor to forget everything, even if it was just for a little while.

“Vodka,” I ordered, my voice rough.

I sipped the drink, trying to dull the ache in my chest. The world was blurry, but I didn’t care.

I reached for my phone and dialed James, my personal assistant. “Come pick me up,” I slurred.

He showed up soon after, pulling me out of my haze. “We’re going home,” he said firmly, not giving me a chance to argue.

I didn’t fight him. I was too far gone. “Take me to… Take me to her,” I muttered, realizing the truth just as the car pulled away.

"James, I know where she is now."