CHAPTER FIVE Ashes Don't Beg

The annulment was finalized in under forty-eight hours.

Lucian’s legal team moved like a surgical unit—precise, silent, lethal.

By the time the paperwork reached me, the media had already announced it.

“Marriage Officially Voided Amid Espionage Investigation.”

Voided.

As if it had never existed.

As if the vows we spoke beneath cathedral ceilings had been nothing more than a clerical error.

I signed without reading the final page.

Not because I didn’t care.

But because I refused to let my hands shake in front of his attorneys.

Two men in tailored suits watched me closely from across Mara’s kitchen table.

“Upon signature,” one of them said smoothly, “you relinquish all claim to marital assets, equity benefits, and spousal consideration.”

“I never wanted his money.”

“That’s noted.”

It wouldn’t be.

Nothing about me would be noted except the scandal.

The pen felt heavier than it should have.

For a brief second, I saw flashes—

His hand on mine during the ceremony.

The quiet way he’d said, You’re certain?

The rare softness in his eyes when he thought no one was watching.

Then I remembered the microphone.

The word betrayal.

The look of indifference as I was escorted out.

I signed.

One of the attorneys gathered the documents immediately.

"With regard to the federal investigation, you have to give up all electronic devices and comply with further interrogation," he stated.

“So this continues,” I said quietly.

“Yes.”

“And Mr. Moretti?”

“Is cooperating fully.”

Of course he was.

They stood to leave.

At the door, one of them paused.

“If this is of any significance,” he stated in a muted tone, “these cases are rarely as uncomplicated as they appear.”

Clean.

There was nothing clean about this.

Three days later, Hart Biotech lost its final major investor.

The board convened again.

This time, they didn’t ask me to step aside.

They asked my father to.

“It’s temporary,” Halvorsen insisted. “Until the investigation concludes.”

My father looked ten years older than he had a week ago.

He didn’t argue.

Didn’t fight.

He simply nodded.

After the meeting, he sat alone in his office, staring at the wall where framed patents and awards had once symbolized a lifetime of work.

“I built this from nothing,” he said quietly when I stepped inside.

“I know.”

"I believed that partnering with Moretti Industries would ensure our future."

His voice cracked slightly.

“I thought I was protecting you.”

I swallowed hard.

“You were.”

He shook his head.

“No. I walked you into a war.”

The words hung heavy between us.

I wanted to tell him about the baby.

I wanted to give him something hopeful.

But how could I?

When the ground beneath us was already collapsing?

My phone buzzed again.

Unknown number.

I didn’t hesitate this time.

“What?” I snapped.

“You’re running out of protection.”

The same distorted voice.

“You’ve taken everything,” I said. “What more do you want?”

“Correction,” the voice replied calmly. “I’ve taken nothing. Your husband did.”

The line went dead.

I stared at the screen.

Not your husband.

The phrasing was deliberate.

As if reminding me—

I was alone now.

The official notice arrived the next morning.

Formal charges were not being filed.

Yet.

But the investigation would remain open pending further review.

Pending.

A word designed to keep someone suspended in fear.

Reporters returned to Hart Biotech headquarters.

Our stock fell another six percent.

Employees whispered in hallways.

Partners withdrew quietly.

And that evening—

My father collapsed again.

This time, the doctors were blunt.

"This level of stress is too much for him to manage," one of them stated with conviction. “If the pressure continues, the damage may become permanent.”

Permanent.

I stood in the hospital corridor and felt something inside me settle.

Not break.

Settle.

Like ash after a fire.

Lucian wanted distance?

He would get it.

That night, I packed a single suitcase.

Mara stood in the doorway watching silently.

“You’re really leaving,” she said.

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

“As long as it takes.”

She crossed the room and gripped my shoulders.

“This isn’t defeat.”

“I know.”

It wasn’t.

It was survival.

I waited until she left before sitting on the edge of the bed and finally allowing myself to breathe.

Really breathe.

My hand moved to my abdomen again.

The test sat in the nightstand drawer.

I hadn’t looked at it since that night.

Slowly, I retrieved it.

Two pink lines.

Still visible.

Still real.

A tear slid down my cheek.

“Hi,” I whispered softly.

My voice trembled.

“I’m sorry your father is an idiot.”

A fragile laugh escaped me through tears.

Lucian would never know.

Not now.

Not while he believed I was capable of destroying him.

I refused to let my child grow up under suspicion.

Under investigation.

Under a man who valued proof more than loyalty.

“You deserve better,” I murmured.

And maybe—

One day—

He would learn the truth.

But that day was not today.

Before dawn, I drove back to the city one last time.

Not to see him.

To see the tower.

Moretti Industries rose against the skyline like it owned the horizon.

Cold.

Unapologetic.

Untouched.

I parked across the street and stepped out of the car.

For a moment, I allowed myself to remember.

The late nights in his office.

The rare smiles.

The way he once said, I don’t trust easily, Elena. Don’t make me regret it.

The irony almost made me laugh.

Across the glass façade, I could see movement in the upper floors.

His floor.

Was he there?

Did he ever leave?

Did he ever think about the woman he had erased so efficiently?

It didn’t matter.

Because I was done waiting for him to question himself.

Done waiting for him to choose me.

He had chosen his empire.

Now I would choose mine.

I retrieved my phone from my bag.

One last message.

I typed slowly.

You won.

Then I deleted it.

No.

He didn’t deserve that.

Instead, I turned the phone off completely.

And dropped it into the trash bin beside the sidewalk.

No contact.

No forwarding address.

No explanation.

Let him believe I ran.

Let him believe guilt drove me away.

Let him build whatever narrative helped him sleep at night.

I got back into my car.

As the engine started, something inside me shifted again.

Not weakness.

Not sorrow.

Resolve.

Five years from now—

When my name no longer triggered scandal headlines—

When the truth surfaced—

When his empire cracked under the weight of internal betrayal—

When he realized the child he never knew existed carried his blood—

He would understand exactly what he lost.

And by then—

I would no longer be the woman who begged him to believe her.

I would be the woman he had to fight to reach.

The sun began to rise as I drove out of the city.

By the time it cleared the skyline—

Elena Hart was gone.

And in her place—

A woman who no longer feared devils was born.