Ch 5

The screech of Davian’s sports car tires echoed sharply across the VVIP parking lot of Calvin’s flagship skyscraper. He leapt out before the engine had fully died, striding through the automatic glass doors with rage burning in his aura. Security staff hurried to greet him, but Davian moved past them without a glance—straight to the private elevator bound for the top floor, where the CEO’s grand office stood.

BANG!

The heavy teak double doors to Calvin’s office slammed open. Calvin, reviewing financial reports behind his black glass desk, merely lifted an eyebrow in calm acknowledgement. He showed no surprise at all to see his best friend storm in, looking every bit an enraged bull.

"You bastard!" Davian’s shout bounced off the walls as he closed the distance and seized Calvin’s shirt collar, crumpling the fine fabric in his grip. "Are you still determined to hurt Rosemary, Calvin?!"

Calvin said nothing for several seconds. He only looked at Davian with those dark, emotionless eyes, then offered a thin, icy smile.

"Yes," Calvin replied flatly, his tone cutting deep. "I intend to destroy her. I want to watch her life fall apart, piece by piece… just as my father’s life fell apart and ended in tragedy—all because of her father!"

"You’re despicable!" Davian snarled, tightening his grip until his knuckles turned white. "Tell me! How many millions will it take for you to let her go? Name your price, and I’ll transfer it this second!"

Calvin let out a cold laugh. Slowly but firmly, he pried Davian’s hands off his collar. He stood tall, straightening his tie and smoothing his shirt—utterly composed, completely unmoved by his friend’s fury.

"You want to buy Rosemary?" Calvin tilted his head, his gaze sharp and probing. "Why, Davian? Are you so eager to pay her 'price' so you can have her for yourself?"

Davian clenched his fists, fighting the overwhelming urge to drive a fist straight into that handsome, unrepentant face.

"I am not that petty, Calvin!" Davian snapped, breath coming fast. "I pity her! She is a good, honest woman who knows nothing of your hateful grudge! She is innocent in all of this—and yet you made her the target of your blind vengeance!"

Calvin exhaled, then turned his back on Davian and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the sprawling city below.

"Enough, Davian," he said dismissively, sounding bored. "Go home. And stop meddling in my marriage."

"Calvin, listen to me!" Davian warned, voice trembling with intensity, pointing straight at his back. "Let her go now—or you will regret this decision for the rest of your life!"

At the word regret, Calvin laughed hollowly without turning around. It was a bitter, arrogant sound that filled the silence of the room.

"Regret?" he murmured, folding his arms across his chest. He turned slowly, his expression cruel. "Do you see me as some weak fool who would weep for a woman he loathes? Rosemary is nothing more than a pawn in my game. And no one ever weeps for a pawn when it falls."

 

Meanwhile, the atmosphere at Calvin’s estate had turned heavy and deathly still. The warmth and laughter that once filled the home had vanished completely, replaced by a thick, suffocating gloom.

Inside the master suite—locked tight from the outside—the head maid stood with a face etched in deep worry. Two full days had passed since that fateful, heart-shattering scene, and for all of those two days, Rosemary had remained shut away. She had not touched a morsel of food, not a drop of water, and had not moved from the edge of the bed. Her once-glowing face was pale as death, dark circles heavy beneath hollow, lifeless eyes.

On the small table beside the bed, a bowl of warm porridge still steamed faintly, untouched. The maid looked at Rosemary with tear-filled eyes, helpless and heartbroken.

"Madam… please… just eat a little," she pleaded, her voice thick with unshed tears. She knelt beside the bed, holding the wooden tray with trembling hands. "If not for yourself… please, think of the little one growing inside you, Madam…"

Rosemary turned her head slowly, looking at the maid with empty, hollow eyes. No more tears fell; they seemed to have dried up completely, burned away by a pain that had shattered her soul. Her lips, once soft and pink, were dry and cracked.

She offered a faint, fading smile—a smile so heartbreaking it would have broken anyone who saw it.

"Bibi…" she whispered, her voice so hoarse and weak it was barely audible in the quiet room. "I only want to give Calvin what he wants."

The maid froze, eyes widening in alarm. "Madam… what do you mean by that?"

"Doesn’t he hate me?" Rosemary continued, gazing straight toward the shuttered window as if staring into nothingness. Her cold, limp hand rested gently over her still-flat stomach—a tender, heartbreaking caress of farewell. "He wants to see me destroyed, doesn’t he? He wants my life to vanish completely."

She breathed out slowly, a breath that felt unbearably heavy, then looked back at the maid with eyes that had lost all light.

"At least…" she whispered, giving voice to the despair that had poisoned every thought. "If my child and I leave this world together… then he will be satisfied. He will have won, won’t he?"