Chapter 5 :The Return

Jason POV 

I stood in the driveway long after the Bentley disappeared, my mind refusing to process what had just happened.

Emily left.

Actually left.

"Jason?" Vanessa's voice was uncertain behind me. "Maybe you should go after her?"

"She'll be back by tonight." The words sounded like lies even to me. "She's just angry. Women get emotional."

Margaret sniffed dismissively. "Good riddance. That girl never belonged in this family anyway. No class, no connections, no breeding—"

"Mom, not now."

I walked into the house. It felt different already, though Emily had left only minutes ago. It felt too quiet.

Lily ran to me, tears streaming down her face. "Daddy! Mama left me! She took Ethan but not me!"

For the first time, I realized what Emily had said: Lily chose to stay. My daughter chose Vanessa and me over her own mother.

I should have felt victorious.

Instead, I felt weak.

"It's okay, princess. Mama will come back soon." I had to believe that.

Vanessa hovered nearby, looking uncomfortable. "Jason, I should go home. Give you space with your family—"

"No. Stay. Please."

She nodded, relief crossing her face.

Margaret was already on her phone, canceling Emily's credit cards.

~~~

Monday morning, I threw myself into work, determined to forget Emily's theatrics.

Except everywhere I looked, there were reminders.

The coffee was wrong—too bitter, too strong. I realized Emily had always made it perfectly, adding just the right amount of oat milk without being asked. For seven years.

My dry cleaning wasn't ready. Emily had always handled that.

At 11 AM, Lily's school called. She'd forgotten her lunch.

"I can get it," Vanessa offered immediately.

"Thank you." I appreciated her efficiency. This was what I needed—a partner who didn't create drama.

But Vanessa returned an hour later, flustered and empty-handed.

"The school wouldn't let me pick up Lily. They said I'm not on the authorized list." She bit her lip. "They called Emily instead."

My jaw tightened. "What did Emily say?"

"That she would handle it." Vanessa's voice dropped. "Jason, the school secretary was really cold to me. Like she knew something. Like she was judging me."

Of course, Emily was poisoning people against us.

I called Emily's phone. Straight to voicemail.

I tried again. And again.

Nothing.

By Wednesday, three days after Emily left, she still hadn't returned a single call.

I was beginning to worry, though I would never admit it aloud. Where was she staying? Was Ethan okay? Why wasn't she answering?

Then the invitation arrived.

A courier delivered it in a thick cream envelope with gold embossing and a wax seal. The kind of invitation that screamed old money and power.

Lothan Global Holdings cordially requests the pleasure of your company at an exclusive investment gala. Black tie. Saturday, 7 PM.

My heart raced. Lothan Global Holdings—the mysterious conglomerate that controlled half the Asian market and had fingers in every major industry. I had been trying to get a meeting with them for two years. They were notoriously selective, only working with the absolute elite.

This was it. This was the break Blackwell Industries desperately needed.

"What is it?" Vanessa peered over my shoulder.

"An invitation to the Lothan Global gala." I couldn't keep the excitement from my voice. "This could be huge. They could make or break us."

"Can I come?" Her eyes lit up. "As your date?"

I hesitated. Emily was still technically my wife. But she had left me. She had made her choice.

"Of course. We'll make a great impression together."

Margaret was thrilled when I told her. "Finally! Real business instead of that silly racing girl dragging you down. This is your chance to shine, Jason. Your chance to prove you're more than your father's son."

I tried calling Emily again, mainly to discuss custody arrangements for the gala night.

Still no answer.

Fine. If she wanted to play games, I'd play.

I'd take Lily and Vanessa. Show Emily that life went on without her.

That night, I stood in my bedroom—the one I had shared with Emily for seven years.

Her side of the closet was empty. Her toiletries were gone from the bathroom. Even her pillow was missing.

It was like she had never existed.

I found myself opening drawers, searching for any trace of my wife. In the back of her nightstand, I found a photo album I'd never seen before.

The first pages showed Emily racing. Young, fierce, fearless. On podiums with champagne spraying, eyes alive with joy I'd never seen in our marriage. Trophies bigger than her torso. 

Then pictures from our early days. Emily smiling at me like I was her entire world.

Wedding photos. Emily radiant in white, looking at me with such trust.

Then more recent photos. Emily with the twins. Emily at family dinners. Emily alone.

I flipped through slowly, and saw it—how the light in her eyes gradually dimmed. How she slowly disappeared, page by page, year by year.

When had that happened? And why hadn't I noticed?

My phone rang. 

"Hello?"

"Mr. Blackwell." The voice was male, cultured, with an edge of steel. "This is Richard Lothan, CEO of Lothan Global Holdings."

I sat up straight, my heart pounding. "Mr. Lothan! Thank you so much for the invitation. I'm honored—"

"I'm calling as a courtesy." His tone was ice. "My sister has returned home after seven years. She's asked me not to engage in any business with people who've mistreated her."

My blood ran cold. "Sister?"

"Yes. Emily Lothan. Or as you knew her, Emily Blackwell. Though she'll be dropping your name shortly, naturally."

The world stopped spinning.

Emily.

Emily Lothan.

Lothan Global Holdings.

"That's... that's impossible. Emily doesn't have—she never mentioned—"

"My sister is the youngest person to ever win a Formula 1 World Championship. She gave up everything to marry you—her career, her inheritance, her family. Our father disowned her for choosing you over duty. And you repaid her dedication by humiliating her with your secretary and nearly letting her die in a car accident."

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

"However," Richard continued smoothly, "I'm a businessman first. I'll still meet with you at the gala. It'll give Emily a chance to see what she's left behind. Do bring your secretary if you like. And please bring my niece Lily. We'd love to see her again."

The line went dead.

I sat in the darkness, Richard's words echoing in my skull.

Emily Lothan.

Racing champion.

Heiress.

My wife.

No—my ex-wife, soon enough.

What had I done?

With shaking hands, I pulled up G****e and typed "Emily Lothan F1."

Thousands of results flooded the screen. Articles. Videos. Photos of a young Emily, fierce and untouchable, holding trophies, surrounded by adoring crowds.

"Lothan Heiress Abandons Racing Dynasty for Love"

"Emily Lothan's Mysterious Disappearance Shocks Motorsport World"

"Where Is the World's Youngest F1 Champion?"

I clicked on a video. Emily at twenty-two, champagne-soaked and laughing, was giving an interview after winning the championship.

"What's next for Emily Lothan?" the reporter asked.

"Everything," she'd said, eyes blazing. "The whole world."

And she had given it all up.

For me.

My phone buzzed. A text from Vanessa:

"I found the perfect dress for the gala! Red—bold but elegant. Can't wait ❤️"

I stared at it.

Then at the photos of Emily on my screen—young, powerful, beloved.

My phone buzzed again. This time, an email from an unknown sender.

The subject line: "See you Saturday, Jason."

I opened it.

A single photo attached.

Emily, today. Standing between Richard Lothan and Nathan Zhou in front of the Lothan estate, looking more alive than I had seen her in years.

And she was smiling.

Not at me. Never at me again.

What the hell had I done?