Chapter 2

Lena

Vincent hit me that night, only two drunken, sloppy punches and then he passed out like nothing had happened. I sobered up instantly and didn’t sleep for the rest of the night. I told myself I was lucky it hadn’t been worse.

It was always like that. Relief disguised as survival.

The next morning was a blur of scrubbing, dusting, and straightening up. I didn’t stop until every corner of the house gleamed, even though my body ached from the stress. It probably wouldn’t matter. Vincent would find something to criticize, he always did.

I was only trying to make it up to him… get back into his good books again, if he even had any.

I had texted my sister asking if Adrian had returned to New York. She replied almost instantly.

JENNA: If your ex man arrived to New York, baby, I would be the first to know.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Relief, small and temporary. I wasn’t ready to face him. Not after all these years.

Jenna was the main reason I had married Vincent, by the way. She had a terminal illness, and we needed the treatment. Vincent offered to pay, on one condition. I said yes before I even fully understood what I was agreeing to.

I sacrificed my life for her, even though she begged me not to.

By early afternoon, I was exhausted, but I forced myself to prepare the tray of drinks Vincent had requested for an important guest. My hands trembled slightly as I carried it into the living room where he was waiting.

Vincent stood by the window, his back rigid as he looked out at the driveway. His posture changed the moment a car pulled up outside.

Whoever it was… mattered.

“Follow me,” he said without looking at me.

I nodded, carefully balancing the tray as I followed him. My stomach tightened with every step.

At the door, Vincent paused, his hand on the doorknob. Then he turned to me.

“Don’t embarrass me,” he hissed.

I swallowed and nodded quickly. He opened the door and my breath stopped.

Adrian.

I hadn’t seen him in years. Not since before Vincent. Not since everything fell apart.

He stood there in a tailored suit, his hair neatly styled, his expression unreadable. He looked like he belonged in Vincent’s world now, like he had always belonged here.

“Adrian,” Vincent said smoothly. “Welcome.”

Adrian stepped inside, his eyes briefly flicking to me before returning to Vincent. If he recognized me, he didn’t show it. Or maybe he refused to.

But I knew better. That hesitation… that flicker… I had felt it.

“Thank you,” Adrian said, his voice deeper now, more controlled. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes,” Vincent replied, gesturing toward the couch. “Too long.”

I stood frozen, the tray shaking slightly in my hands as they exchanged pleasantries like this was just business. My mind couldn’t keep up.

Why was Adrian here? Why hadn’t Vincent told me? And why did it feel like the air had suddenly turned suffocating?

“Lena,” Vincent snapped.

I jolted.

“The drinks.”

I stepped forward immediately, forcing my hands to steady. But as I approached, my eyes met Adrian’s.

Blue eyes, still the same but still devastating and for a second, just a second his expression softened and then he looked away like I meant nothing.

My grip slipped and the tray crashed to the floor as glass shattered everywhere.

“Lena!” Vincent’s voice exploded through the room. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry,” I gasped, crouching instantly. “I didn’t mean to...”

“Of course you didn’t mean to! You never do anything right...”

“Vincent?”

Adrian’s voice cut through the chaos. Vincent paused, jaw tight.

“Leave it,” he said sharply, then grabbed my arm and yanked me up. “Just get out.”

I winced as his fingers dug into my skin. Adrian stepped forward.

“Is she hurt?” His tone was controlled, but there was something underneath it, something sharp. Protective, almost. “Did the glass...”

“She’s fine,” Vincent snapped. “She’s clumsy. That’s all.”

I flinched at the words. Adrian didn’t argue. He just stared at me for another second before stepping back.

But I saw it, there was concern... real concern.

Vincent shoved me lightly. “Go clean yourself up.”

I nodded quickly and left, my chest tight, my mind spinning. Once I was out of sight, I leaned against the hallway wall, breathing hard. My arm stung where Vincent had grabbed me. Adrian was here. In my house and he was talking to my husband and I didn’t know why my heart felt like it was breaking all over again.

After a few minutes, I forced myself back. I stopped at the doorway just in time to see Vincent handing Adrian a folder.

“Everything is in order,” Vincent said. “The ranch is yours now.”

My stomach dropped. Ranch? My ranch? The only property I had ever truly called mine.

“No,” I whispered before I could stop myself. I stepped forward. “Vincent, please...don’t sell it. It’s...”

“Enough,” he snapped without even looking at me. “This is business. You don’t understand business.”

“I understand it’s mine,” my voice cracked. “Please…”

“I can, and I did,” he said coldly. “It’s done.”

My eyes snapped to Adrian.

“Please,” I begged him. “Don’t take it. You don’t know what it means to me.”

For a moment, something shifted in his expression, something human and then it disappeared.

“It’s a business deal, Mrs. Hartford,” he said calmly. “Nothing personal.”

Mrs. Hartford. Not Lena, not anything else. Just… that. I stared at him, disbelief curling into something worse.

This wasn’t him, not the man I had loved and definitely not the boy who once held me like I was something worth saving.

He gave Vincent a brief nod, then turned toward the door. As he passed me, he paused just slightly, a small smile touched his lips. It was cold and controlled, almost cruel and then he walked out.

The door closed behind him and I stood there with broken glass at my feet, feeling like I was about to shatter too.

For a moment, no one spoke. Vincent was the first to move. He walked past me like I wasn’t even there, picked up the folder, and straightened his cuffs as if nothing significant had just happened.

“You heard him,” he said casually, still not looking at me. “It’s finalized.”

My throat tightened.

“That ranch is the only thing I have,” I whispered. My voice came out thinner than I intended. “You know that.”

Vincent finally turned his head slightly, just enough for me to see the cold indifference in his eyes.

“No,” he corrected. “You had something. Now it belongs to someone who can actually maintain it.”

My fingers curled at my sides. I felt the sting of humiliation burning hotter than the broken glass at my feet.

“You’re punishing me,” I said quietly.

That made him pause, just a fraction.

“Punishing you?” he repeated, almost amused. “You give yourself too much credit, Lena.”

The way he said my name made something inside me recoil. Like I was already something disposable. I bent slowly, ignoring the sharp pain as a piece of glass cut into my palm. I didn’t even flinch. I just kept picking up the pieces.

Vincent watched me for a second longer than necessary, then looked away again as if bored.

“Clean it up,” he added flatly. “And don’t embarrass yourself further.”

Footsteps followed, he was leaving and just like that, the room felt larger and emptier.

I stayed on my knees long after he was gone, gathering shards of glass with trembling hands. Tiny cuts formed across my skin, but I didn’t stop. I welcomed the pain. It was easier than thinking, easier than remembering Adrian’s eyes, easier than the way he had looked at me like I was a stranger or worse… like I was nothing.

A maid eventually appeared at the doorway, gasping softly when she saw me.

“Ma’am...let me help you...”

“I’m fine,” I cut her off quickly, forcing my voice steady. “Just leave it.”

She hesitated, then left. When I was finally alone again, I sat back on my heels and stared at the empty space where Adrian had stood moments ago. My chest ached in a way I couldn’t explain. Six years ago, I would have run to him without thinking. Now, I wasn’t even sure I still existed in his world. A bitter laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it.

“Nothing personal,” I repeated under my breath, mocking his words. My hands trembled harder. “Of course it isn’t.”

Outside, I heard Vincent’s car engine start and I realized something with sick clarity. My life wasn’t just breaking. It was being rewritten without me in it.