LOGINDamien grunted, and his pleasure tore a cry from my throat. He whipped his face away from Vanessa to stare at me in shock. Then he called my name as he untangled himself from her.
The sight of them made me nauseous. I had to get away.
I shut the door and dabbed my face dry. Anger ignited next to the heartbreak. I would get Bonnie, we would leave and I would never see that unfaithful bastard again.
Mind made up, I hurried back the way I came. Damien’s voice echoed behind me and I ignored him until he grabbed my arm.
The suit I had picked out and carefully pressed was crumpled from their escapades. Vanessa sauntered over, unbothered, with her hair a mess.
“Celeste, please let me explain.” Damien begged.
I pulled my arm free from his grip. “I don’t want to hear it, Damien. There is nothing you could possibly say that will fix this.”
Vanessa reached us and tucked herself into Damien’s side. I could still see a hint of that satisfied smirk on her lips.
“I’m so sorry, Celeste. Neither of us meant for this to happen.” Her voice sounded genuine, while her eyes twinkled with glee. “Damien and I, we just have this connection—”
“Not now, Vanessa.” He interrupted.
Damien being with another woman just two hours before our wedding absolutely broke me. But Vanessa’s betrayal hurt, too.
“I loved you like a sister, Vanessa. How could you do this to me?”
She leaned closer to Damien. “Maybe you should have taken better care of your man, sweetie.”
Her condescending tone made my blood boil. I couldn’t believe I never realised how two-faced and selfish she was.
“Are you seriously saying it’s my fault you slept with my husband?”
Damien detached himself from Vanessa and reached for my hand.
“Look Celeste, if you’ll just calm–”
I stepped back, my voice rising to match my rage. “How long has this been going on? Since she started working for you?” They said nothing. “I can’t believe this!”
“I can explain. Please don’t throw our family away, Celeste.” Damien pleaded.
“You threw our family away when you slept with that backstabbing bitch. This wedding is not happening. I’m taking my daughter and I’m leaving.”
Damien shouted for me to stop and listen. I ignored him and hurried to the makeup room, my emotions in turmoil.
“Mommy, do you like my makeup?” Bonnie asked as soon as she saw me.
Kelly had done a great job. It was a pity it was all in vain.
“Yes, honey. It looks lovely.”
Kelly’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Mrs Kent, your eyeliner is smudged. Let me fix that up for you.”
“It’s alright.” I said as I grabbed my handbag and Bonnie’s hand. “You can go home now, Kelly. Thanks for your hard work.”
I left the confused makeup artist behind and made my way to the venue’s exit as quickly as Bonnie’s legs would allow. I needed to get out of here before Damien found me.
If he was even looking for me.
“Mommy, where’s your pretty white dress?”
“I don’t need it anymore, Bonnie.”
“Why?”
Her question shoved the knife deeper into my heart. I would have to explain to my daughter that our lives as we knew them were over. Our family had been permanently destroyed.
How do you tell a five-year-old that?
I took a deep breath. “Because Daddy and Mommy are not having a wedding anymore.”
“Why?”
I stopped and picked her up.
“Bonnie, Daddy did something bad with Auntie Vanessa.”
“What did Daddy do?”
Her pretty face was so innocent. I could never tell her the truth.
“It doesn’t matter, honey. But we can’t all live together anymore. We’re going home to pack our things and find a new home. Just the two of us.”
Damien may have destroyed our family, but I’d always be Bonnie’s mother and she’d always be my daughter. We’d start over together.
“But I want to live with Daddy and Auntie Vanessa!”
It felt like I’d been sucker-punched in the gut.
This final betrayal hurt beyond anything I could imagine. The child I cared for with all my being chose her father, who hardly had time for her, and her aunt, who never cleaned a single diaper or snotty nose, over me.
It was more than I could take.
Bonnie whined. “I wanna go down. I want Daddy!”
Damien and Vanessa had just come into the reception area. I let Bonnie wiggle out of my hold and watched numbly as she ran and jumped into Vanessa’s arms.
“Honey, are you sure? You won't get to hear a bedtime story from Mommy tonight,” I said, my smile feeling like a mask over the pain.
Bonnie just shrugged, like it didn't matter.
“It's okay, Mommy. Auntie Vanessa can tell me a story.”
“Fine, just don’t kick the covers off when you sleep tonight,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
I turned and walked away, my vision blurring as I left the wedding reception.
My suitcase bulged as I finished packing. But there were so many things I’d have to leave behind.
I took one last look at our bedroom. My stomach twisted as I wondered if Damien and Vanessa ever made love in our bed. If they hadn’t, they probably would now.
I slammed the door shut and dragged my suitcase downstairs.
My fingers trembled as I opened a little black box. The ring inside was the one I had been dreaming of for five years.
I would never get to wear it.
I left the ring on the coffee table, next to the divorce agreement I had printed and signed as soon as I got home. Damien would find them without a problem.
Leaving the living room, I dug my phone out of my bag.
6 missed calls from mom
Shit. I immediately called her back. She must have been frantic.
“Celeste, dear, what’s happening? Vanessa told the guests the wedding was off.”
The concern in her voice finally unleashed my tears.
“Mom, I’m so sorry. I should’ve listened to you when you warned me about Damien. I was so blind. So stupid.” My throat burned as I forced the words out. “I’m d-divorcing Damien. He’s having an affair, mom.”
The line was quiet for a moment.
“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart.”
The gentle kindness of her voice sent me into a sobbing fit. I wasn’t completely alone. My mother was still there for me.
“Don’t cry. It’s not your fault, you hear me?” She sounded stern.
I could only nod as I tried to calm down.
“I’m going to find that good-for-nothing bastard and make him regret the day he hurt my baby.”
The gung-ho determination in her voice actually made me laugh through the tears.
“It’s fine, mom. I’ve already signed the divorce papers and I’m leaving the house now.”
“Good. I’m proud of you, Celeste. You call me if you need anything at all, okay?”
I smiled, feeling a little less hopeless.
“Thanks, mom.”
I hung up and dried my face. If my family didn’t want me to be their wife or mother, then I would be myself. I had sacrificed everything for them, and they took it for granted.
It was time I rediscovered who I was.
With my suitcase in hand, I left my home of five years and I didn’t look back.
Celeste’s POVRyan arrived like a rupture in reality.I heard him before I saw him, the screech of tires, the slam of a car door, his voice cutting through the night, raw and furious, shouting my name like it was the only thing tethering him to the ground.“Celeste!”I was still half-collapsed against the exterior wall of Rosemary Atelier, knees scraped, lungs burning, phone clutched in my shaking hand. I barely had time to turn before he was there, hands on my shoulders, scanning my face, my arms, my legs, as if cataloguing damage faster than his fear could catch up.“Are you hurt?” he demanded, voice tight, eyes wild.“I—” My throat closed. “Andre’s inside.”That was all it took.Ryan’s entire body changed. Something lethal and precise slid into place behind his eyes. He moved in front of me without thinking, one arm pushing me back as he reached for the door.“Ryan, wait—”Too late.The door burst open.Andre came at us like he’d been waiting for this moment, like the night had shar
Celeste’s POVThe atelier had never felt this hollow before.Rosemary after hours usually carries a soft echo, machines cooling down, the faint hum of the security system, the scent of metal and polish settling into the walls.That night, it felt scraped clean of warmth, like something had stripped it down to bone.I was alone. Or so I thought.I was locking my office when I heard it, the faint click of the front door disengaging.Not the alarm. Not the controlled entry tone.A manual override.Every muscle in my body tightened.I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I listened.Footsteps. Slow. Unhurried. Like whoever had entered wasn’t worried about being caught.Andre.The realization hit with cold clarity, not panic. Panic comes later, after the body decides survival matters more than pride.I slid my phone into my pocket without looking at it. No light. No sound. Calling anyone now would give me away. The security desk was empty.Rachel and Jenny had left hours ago.The floor was his.I
Celeste’s POVI didn’t sleep.Not really. I lay on the couch in my office at Rosemary Atelier with my phone clutched in my hand, staring at the ceiling, counting breaths that never settled into anything close to rest.The city outside was still dark when I finally gave up and stood, pulling on a blazer that felt more like armor than clothing.By six in the morning, Rosemary was already awake.Rachel was at her bench, polishing with quiet determination. Jenny hovered near the coffee machine, jumping every time her phone buzzed. No one asked me if I’d slept. No one asked me if I was okay. They didn’t need to. My face must have answered all of that for me.By eight, Officer Raymond had checked in twice. No leads yet. No ransom demand. No sightings that could be confirmed.By nine, I made the call I had been avoiding.Leander Voss answered on the second ring. Laurent joined moments later, his voice calm in a way that immediately told me he already knew why I was calling.“Celeste,” Leander
Damien’s POVI woke up to the sound of breaking glass.Not the sharp, cinematic crash people imagine, but a dull, ugly shatter, like something heavy giving way under pressure.For half a second, my brain refused to translate it. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, caught between sleep and instinct.Then the alarm started screaming.I was on my feet instantly, heart slamming against my ribs. The house lights flicked on as I ran barefoot down the hallway, grabbing the first solid thing my hand found, a decorative metal paperweight from my desk.Useless as a weapon, but it gave my hands something to do besides shake.“Who’s there?” I shouted, my voice echoing too loudly in the empty house.No answer.The living room was chaos. One of the tall windows near the garden had been smashed inward. Shards of glass glittered on the marble floor like ice. Cold night air poured in, carrying the smell of damp soil and something metallic.I scanned the room, every muscle tight, waiting for movement.
Celeste’s POVThe studio lights at Rosemary Atelier always felt harsher after midnight. They cast everything in clean, unforgiving lines, every flaw visible, every doubt amplified.I had stayed late because staying busy felt safer than going home early and letting my thoughts catch up with me. Vivian had Molly tonight. Grace had left early, claiming a headache and a need for quiet. I remembered teasing her about finally listening to her body.I wished I hadn’t.When I finally locked up and drove home, the city felt too still. Traffic lights blinked dutifully. Security guards nodded. Everything looked normal enough to lull someone else into calm. But I had learned the hard way that silence often came before impact.Grace’s shoes were by the door when I stepped into the apartment.That was the first thing that felt wrong.She never left them there. Grace was meticulous in small, quiet ways, shoes lined, keys always in the same ceramic bowl, bags hung, never dropped. I set my own bag down
Celeste’s POVImperial Aurium Group still smelled the same, polished wood, cold metal, ambition pressed into the walls. I hadn’t missed it.Damien’s office was exactly as I remembered, all sharp lines and controlled lighting, designed to make people feel smaller when they sat across from him.I refused to.Damien looked tired when I walked in. Not the performative exhaustion he used to wear like a badge during deals, but the real kind, the kind that hollowed out the space beneath his eyes. Atlas’s file lay open on his desk, untouched. That alone told me everything.“Celeste,” he said, standing quickly. “Thank you for coming.”“I didn’t come for pleasantries,” I replied, setting my bag down and taking the chair opposite him. “I came so you’d stop thinking you’re cornered.”He exhaled slowly and sat. “You spoke to the Voss brothers.”“I did.” My voice stayed even, though the anger was still there, coiled and waiting. “And no—you don’t have to agree to anything they’re asking.”Damien rub







