MasukSerena’s pov
I sat there frozen while Damian held another woman in his arms.
The sales assistant still had one hand around me to steady me, but I barely felt it.
Everything around me sounded distant because I could only see my husband.
I could only see my husband.
Damian’s head was lowered slightly toward her like he had forgotten the rest of the world existed, like I did not exist.
My chest hurt badly.
“Ma’am,” the sales assistant beside me said softly. “Are you alright?”
I blinked quickly.
My eyes burned with tears that wanted to spill but I held it back.
“Yes,” I whispered automatically.
But my voice shook.
The assistant looked worried as she helped me stand properly again. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. Mr. Cole moved too quickly.”
I swallowed hard and looked away before the tears in my eyes could fall.
One of the workers bent down to pick them up while another whispered something under her breath. I heard the snicker as they talked.
“She’s pregnant too.”
“Did you see how he ran to the other woman?”
“I told you rich men never change even if you throw yourself at them.”
I froze.
Another voice joined quietly.
“Maybe the wife was only temporary.”
The tears I fought so hard against finally slipped down my cheeks.
The assistant beside me immediately looked embarrassed. “Please ignore them, ma’am. I apologize on their behalf.”
I quickly wiped my face.
“It’s fine,” I lied softly.
But it was not fine, nothing about this was fine.
I looked toward Damian again.
He still had not looked at me once.
Lilliana said something to him quietly and his face went pale.
My stomach twisted painfully.
Did he still love her that much?
Was one look at her enough to make him forget me and our completely?
The assistant carefully handed me the clothes that had fallen.
“Would you still like them packed, ma’am?” she asked gently.
I stared at the tiny outfits in silence for a few seconds before nodding slowly.
“Yes.”
My voice sounded small even to me.
The assistant quickly led me toward the counter while the whispers continued behind me.
I could still hear them.
Poor thing.
She looked so happy earlier.
Mr. Cole never forgot his first love.
Every word stabbed deeper into my chest.
I stood quietly while the cashier packed the baby clothes into expensive branded bags.
The total appeared on the screen.
I did not even look at it.
Damian would usually pay for everything before I even reached the counter, but he was not here now.
So I reached inside my handbag with shaking fingers and handed over my black card.
The cashier looked nervous immediately. “Of course, Mrs. Cole.”
I waited silently until the payment went through.
The assistant who helped me earlier handed me the bags carefully. “Please be careful, ma’am.”
I nodded once and walked out of the store alone.
The luxury mall suddenly felt too large and it felt like everyone was staring at me. Maybe it was because they recognized me or because I looked like a pregnant woman trying not to break down in public.
I pressed one hand against my stomach as I walked slowly toward the mall entrance.
“It’s okay,” I whispered softly to my baby but my voice broke halfway.
The black Bentley waited near the entrance with the driver standing beside it.
He immediately opened the door for me when he saw me approaching.
“Mrs. Cole,” he greeted respectfully.
I nodded quietly but did not enter the car yet.
I stood there staring ahead blankly while tears continued falling down my face.
My husband forgot me inside a baby store, after almost making me fall.
My chest tightened painfully again.
A few minutes later, footsteps approached behind me.
I turned slowly.
Damian stood there.
For the first time since I met him, he looked completely shaken and his eyes were slightly red like he had been crying.
The sight stunned me. Damian did not cry.
I had never even seen him look close to tears before but now his expression looked messy and emotional.
My heart twisted again.
Was he crying because he was happy to see that woman?
Because he still loved her?
I suddenly felt foolish for every happy moment I treasured earlier today.
Damian stopped in front of me.
Neither of us spoke at first, his eyes moved toward the tears on my cheeks and his expression darkened slightly.
“Get in the car,” he said quietly.
I stared at him. That was it?
No apology or explanation?
I gritted my teeth and swallowed my anger.
Still, I entered the car silently because I suddenly felt exhausted.
Damian entered after me.
The moment the doors shut, the Bentley drove away from the mall smoothly.
Silence filled the car immediately.
I stared out the window for almost a minute before I finally turned toward him.
“What was that?” I asked quietly.
Damian stayed silent.
I felt fresh tears sting my eyes again.
“You left me there.”
I looked at him in disbelief. “Why would you do that to me?”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“You made me fall, Damian and almost hurt our baby.”
At that, his eyes finally moved toward me.
But his face remained cold again. The softness from earlier had disappeared completely.
I hated it. I hated how quickly everything changed.
“You humiliated me,” I whispered painfully. “Do you hate me now?”
“Stop it,” he muttered.
My chest tightened harder.
“Was seeing her enough for your senses to disappear?” I asked shakily. “You forgot your pregnant wife was standing beside you because of another woman?”
The moment the words left my mouth, Damian snapped.
“Shut up.”
I flinched instantly.
Damian dragged one hand through his hair roughly before leaning back against the seat.
“I need to think,” he said coldly.
The tears on my face dried slowly after that. I turned toward the window again and stayed quiet.
The rest of the drive felt endless.
The city lights passed outside while silence sat heavily between us.
Damian did not touch me again, he did not look at me again. His phone rang twice during the drive, but he ignored every call.
I rested my hand over my stomach and tried not to cry anymore.
My baby did not deserve my stress but my heart hurt too much.
When the Bentley finally entered the gates of the Cole mansion, I felt empty.
The large estate looked beautiful as always.
The fountain sparkled under golden lights and luxury cars lined the driveway.
Staff members stood near the entrance waiting to greet us.
Usually Damian would help me out carefully but he stepped out first.
I followed slowly behind him.
“Sir, dinner is ready,” one of the house staff said carefully.
“I’m not eating,” he replied immediately.
I frowned slightly.
He grabbed his car keys from the table near the entrance instead.
Confusion filled me immediately.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
He walked toward the door again without answering.
I followed him carefully. “Damian.”
He finally stopped.
But he did not turn around immediately.
When he finally looked back at me, his face looked unreadable again.
“Mind your business, Serena,” he said flatly. “I’ll be back soon.”
My chest tightened painfully at his tone.
“Where are you going?” I asked again quietly.
But he said nothing else.
A second later, he walked out of the mansion and I heard the loud roar of his sports car engine outside as he drove away.
Elena’s POVThe morning after the Summit of the Six Seas, the air on the eighty-fifth floor was crisp, clear, and quiet.At six-thirty in the morning, the vast expanse of Midtown Manhattan below was bathed in a pale, cold amber light. Through the floor-to-ceiling glass, the city looked immaculate—its morning traffic flowing smoothly along the avenues, its harbor quiet, its rail yards running in frictionless precision.On my primary console, the world map had transformed into a single, seamless, interactive topology of electric blue:UNIFIED GLOBAL TRANSIT NETWORK: 100.0% INTEGRATEDSOVEREIGN DEBT CLEARING MARGINS: PERMANENTLY LOCKEDREGIONAL TRADE LATENCY: 0.00 MILLISECONDSSYSTEM FREEDOM / OPERATIONAL RESISTANCE: ZEROJulian walked into the corner suite carrying a polished silver tray with my morning Earl Grey. His stride was smooth, unhurried, and devoid of the hyper-vigilant tension that had defined his life since the fall of Arthur Cole."The secondary notifications were dispatche
Elena’s POVThe Grand Ballroom on the top floor of the Vance Global Tower sat suspended eight hundred feet above the Hudson River, lit by the dramatic, ambient glow of floor-to-ceiling glass paneling against the twilight skyline.Outside, night was settling over Manhattan, turning the rivers into black velvet cut by the electric reflections of Midtown. Inside, under a soaring vault of smoked glass and minimalist steel architectural ribbing, eighty people moved in quiet, restrained circles.They were not mere corporate executives or regional political surrogates.Gathered in this single room were the Managing Director of the International Monetary Fund, the President of the European Central Bank, the Chief Executive of the Saudi Public Investment Fund, the Governor of the People's Bank of China, and the senior ministers of maritime trade from sixteen sovereign nations.It was the Summit of the Six Seas—an unannounced, off-the-record gathering convened not by international treaty or dip
Elena’s POVThe silence of the eighty-fifth floor was absolute, sterile, and cold.Outside the panoramic glass, Manhattan was wrapped in the sharp, blinding glare of mid-afternoon sunlight. The skyline stood frozen below like a miniature model carved from crystal and granite, while eight hundred feet above the pavement, the atmosphere inside my study was heavy with the quiet density of completed power.On my primary desk console, the global routing maps had transitioned from active diagnostic overlays to a solid, static blue.No blinking red alerts. No unmapped orbital blips over the equatorial parallel. No discrepancies in the Eurasian gold ledgers. The six regional clearing hubs—New York, London, Frankfurt, Tokyo, Singapore, and Santos—were linked in a closed, self-correcting algorithmic loop that processed forty-two trillion dollars in daily trade velocity without requiring human intervention.Julian stood by the marble coffee station, pouring a fresh stream of hot water into my po
Elena’s POVThe early morning sun broke over the Atlantic in long, sharp blades of molten gold, painting the sky seven miles above Manhattan in violet and amber.Inside the quiet cabin of the Gulfstream G650, the only sound was the low, steady hum of the twin turbines and the soft clink of my stone saucer against the teak desk. The crisp air carried the faint scent of fresh Earl Grey and warm leather. Below us, the towering glass-and-steel monoliths of Midtown Manhattan rose out of the morning mist like a vast, glittering monument to absolute control.On my primary display screen, the master global ledger ran a continuous, silent stream of green updates:VANCE GLOBAL CAPITAL RESERVES: $278.1 BILLIONASIAN PHYSICAL GOLD LEDGER: 100.0% RECOVERED / ALMATY DEPOT SECUREDSHADOW SYNDICATE CLEARING NODES: DISSOLVEDGLOBAL AUTOMATED FREIGHT FLOW: OPTIMALJulian stepped out of the communications suite, holding two fresh briefing tablets. The exhausted tension that had tightened his shoulders d
Elena’s POVThe Ili River valley at five in the morning was a desolate, wind-scoured corridor of frozen marshland and jagged red clay, squeezed tightly between the snow-capped ridges of the Tianshan range and the endless grey steppe to the north.Overhead, a pale crescent moon hung frozen in a sky the color of bruised slate. Twenty miles to the east, the towering steel-and-glass security gantries of the Khorgos Free Economic Zone—the high-tech dry port bridging the physical border between Kazakhstan and China—loomed out of the freezing pre-dawn mist like a sprawling industrial fortress.Our two heavy Sikorsky S-92 helicopters flew forty feet above the snow-encrusted gravel, their twin turbines screaming as they tore through the sub-zero headwinds at one hundred and sixty knots.Inside the pressurized passenger cabin, the red jump-lights cast a harsh, crimson glow across the steel interior. I sat in the forward leather seat, wearing a high-collared black weatherproof coat over my slate
Elena’s POVThe steppe of southeastern Kazakhstan at four in the morning was a vast, freezing ocean of black earth and jagged limestone, stretching endlessly beneath a canopy of ice-white stars.Thirty miles south of Almaty, where the snow-capped wall of the Trans-Ili Alatau mountains tore into the night sky, sitting in a deep glacial ravine, was the Medeu Secure Depot. Originally built during the Cold War as a subterranean fallout bunker for the Soviet State Bank, the facility had been rebuilt thirty years ago with three-foot-thick reinforced titanium doors, high-density perimeter pressure sensors, and hardened quantum fiber conduits. It was designed to hold the physical anchor of the Eurasian trade ledger: eighteen billion dollars in investment-grade gold bullion and twenty thousand metric tons of refined battery-grade lithium carbonate.The twin turbines of my Gulfstream G650 had touched down at the private airfield in Talgai less than forty minutes ago. Now, our four-car convoy of
Serena’s povI barely slept that night.I stayed awake in the large bed alone while the clock beside me kept moving slowly but Damien never came back.Every sound outside made my heart jump for nothing.I stared at the empty side of the bed and kept thinking about Liliana and the way he left me beh
Serena’s povThe soft hum of the Bentley filled the silence as we drove away from the hospital.I rested my hand on my stomach and smiled to myself again.The baby had been active throughout the appointment. Even the doctor laughed when the little kicks refused to stop during the scan.“Your baby i
Serena’s povI cried myself to sleep that night.I sat alone in the huge bedroom while my messages kept failing one after another.Every failed message felt like another slap to my face.My husband blocked me like I was some stranger bothering him.At some point, I stopped texting.I just sat there
Serena’s povThings felt different after the dinner with Liliana.I noticed how Damian became quieter around me afterward.He still kissed my forehead before leaving for work every morning.He still asked if I had eaten.He still made sure the drivers moved carefully whenever I sat inside the car.







