Chapter Five

Elena’s POV

The morning light streamed across the polished marble floor of the penthouse as I stood before the mahogany desk. The papers lay there, neat and crisp, waiting for my signature like a sentence that had already been decided.

I stared at them for a long while. Three years of marriage reduced to a stack of legal documents. Three years of my heart, of dreams I’d stitched together in silence, now ready to be torn apart with a few strokes of ink.

My hand didn’t shake as I signed.

The pen glided smoothly, the finality of my name sealing everything. I pressed the papers together, smoothed them down, and placed them at the centre of the desk.

It was done.

I glanced around the living room one last time. The glass walls looked out over the city, glittering beneath the rising sun. The plush leather couch where Damien had fallen asleep after endless nights at the office. The dining table where I had once set candlelit dinners he never came home to. The bedroom upstairs where I had whispered goodnight to a man who barely acknowledged me.

Every corner still smelled of him, every memory pulsed with his shadow. Yet I felt strangely empty, as though my heart had already moved beyond these walls.

I lifted my suitcase, the wheels rattling softly across the marble. That was when I heard the door click open.

Damien stepped inside.

He stopped short when he saw me standing there, suitcase in hand. His eyes flickered to the papers on the table, then back to me. For the first time in  three years, he looked… startled.

“You…” His voice was low, uncertain. “You signed them.”

“Yes.” My tone was calm, too calm, even to my own ears. “Everything you wanted. It’s done.”

He crossed the room quickly, picked up the papers, flipped through them as though expecting me to have left something unfinished. But no, every page bore my signature, clear and final.

“You really signed them,” he murmured, almost to himself.

The maid appeared then, moving quietly toward me with a tray. She reached for the second glass of wine, intending to pour for me.

“No, thank you,” I said softly, stopping her with a shake of my head.

She looked surprised.

Damien glanced up, brow furrowing. “You’re refusing wine? You never refuse.”

I gave a faint smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Some things change.”

He set the papers down slowly, his gaze sharp on me. “Where are you going?”

“Out.” My fingers tightened on the handle of my suitcase. “My cab is waiting downstairs.”

“You can stay here for a few days until you find another place,” he said quickly. Almost too quickly.

I shook my head. “There’s no need. I won’t linger in a house that isn’t mine anymore.”

The words landed heavily in the silence. He flinched ever so slightly, as though the finality of them scraped against something buried deep inside him.

I turned toward the door, but his voice stopped me.

“That day at the hospital…” His tone was rough, hesitant. “You were going to tell me something. What was it?”

My heart slammed against my ribs. For a moment, I almost broke. I almost told him about the child. About the tiny miracle clinging fiercely to life inside me. 

But then I remembered the slap, the contempt, the way he had spat that my pregnancy was nothing but another scheme.

I forced myself to breathe evenly. I turned my head just enough to meet his eyes.

“I already forgot,” I said softly.

The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, but it was safer this way.

His jaw tightened, his eyes dark, but he didn’t press further.

I looked at him, really looked, for the last time. The man I had loved since childhood, the man I had dreamed of sharing forever with. He stood there in his tailored suit, every inch the billionaire heir, untouchable, unyielding.

And yet, for all his power, he didn’t know he had already lost everything that mattered.

“Goodbye, Damien.” My voice was steady, even as my chest cracked wide open.

I walked past him, my suitcase rolling softly behind me. Each step felt like leaving pieces of myself scattered across the marble floor, but I didn’t look back.

The elevator doors closed with a soft chime, sealing me away from him, from the life I once thought was mine.

As the car descended, I pressed a hand to my stomach. A faint, almost imperceptible flutter pulsed beneath my palm.

“You’re all I have now,” I whispered. “And I swear, I’ll protect you.”

The city awaited below, harsh and unforgiving, but for the first time, I wasn’t afraid.

Because even broken hearts can still beat for something greater.