CHAPTER 4: I FILED FOR DIVORCE

The next morning, I woke up not in Damian's mansion, but in Killian Thorne's mansion. In his guest bedroom that was bigger than my entire old master bedroom.

Silk sheets. Black walls. A view of the garden where Damian's nursery was still smoking from yesterday.

I wore a black dress Killian's housekeeper left for me. Simple, expensive, mine. Not the old wife clothes Damian picked.

Downstairs, Killian was already in the dining room, drinking black coffee, reading something on his tablet. He looked up when I entered. His eyes did that slow thing again, from my face to my feet and back.

"Good morning, Mrs. Thorne," he said.

"Don't call me that yet," I said, but I was smiling.

"Too late. My men already call you that," he said, pushing a plate towards me. Steak and eggs at 8 AM. Mafia breakfast. "Eat. We have a busy day. Your husband will be here at 10."

"My husband is coming here?" I froze.

"Your soon-to-be ex-husband," Killian corrected. "I invited him. Politely. My men told him his wife took something that belongs to him and he should come get it."

My blood went cold. Damian coming here? To Killian's mansion? The two most dangerous men in my life in one room?

At exactly 10 AM, the gates opened. Damian stormed in, Bianca behind him, holding her belly like always. He was wearing his angry CEO face. The face he used to fire people.

"Elena!" he shouted as soon as he entered Killian's house without being invited. "What is this? My men said you stole the bunker supplies! And my safe! $20 million is missing! You think you can steal from me and hide in this... this criminal's house?"

He looked at Killian with disgust. "Thorne. So this is where my wife has been whoring around? I should have known. The Mafia heir and the barren wife. Perfect."

Killian didn't move. He just continued drinking his coffee. Calm. Too calm. His men, four of them along the walls, didn't move either. But their hands were on their guns.

I stood up.

"Damian, sit down," I said quietly.

"Don't tell me to sit down! You are my wife! You stole my property! The bunker is in MY name! The money is -"

"The money is my father's," I interrupted. "The bunker is my father's design, my father's deed that you forged. And I am not your wife. Not for long."

I placed a folder on the table. Divorce papers. 20 pages. Prepared by Killian's lawyer overnight. The best lawyer in Raven City, the one who made murder charges disappear.

"What is this?" Damian grabbed it.

"Divorce. Sign it," I said. "You get nothing. The mansion, the cars, the company shares my father gave you - you return everything. You keep your mistress and your bastard. That's your settlement."

Bianca gasped. "Bastard? How dare you call my son -"

"Your son is a bastard because his father is still married when he was conceived," I said, looking at her. "Biology, dear. Read a book."

Damian laughed. He actually laughed. Loud, arrogant.

"You think I will sign this? Elena, have you lost your mind? You have nowhere to go. You have no family. Your father is dead. You have no money now because you gave it to this thug. Sign this and you will be on the street. Begging."

He tore the divorce papers in half. Then in half again. Threw the pieces in my face. Paper fell like snow.

"I will never divorce you, Elena. Never. You will stay Mrs. Damian Reid, even if you live in his basement. Because no one else will want a used, barren, thief wife."

The room went silent. Killian's coffee cup hit the table with a small click. That click made everyone freeze.

Killian stood up. Slowly. He walked to Damian. He was taller. Broader. Every step was controlled violence.

"Mr. Reid," Killian said softly, too softly. "You just threw paper in my partner's face. In my house."

Damian tried to keep his CEO face, but his throat moved. He swallowed.

"Your house? She is my wife -"

"Not for long," Killian said. He picked up the second copy of the divorce papers from the table - the one I didn't show. "You will sign this. Or I will make you sign it. And you know what making means in my family."

He placed a pen in Damian's hand and guided his hand to the paper. Damian's hand was shaking.

"Sign, Mr. Reid. Before I get angry. You don't want to see me angry. Your father-in-law's company had an accident last year, remember? The fire? That was me being a little angry. Imagine a lot angry."

Damian's face went white. The fire. Everyone knew Thorne Security burned down Voss Corp's rival building last year. No one could prove it.

He signed. Fast. Messy. D-A-M-I-A-N R-E-I-D.

Bianca screamed, "Damian! No! Don't sign!"

But he did. All pages. Every page.

I picked up the signed papers. My hands were shaking too, but not from fear. From victory.

"Thank you, Mr. Reid," I said. "Oh, and one more thing. The apocalypse starts in five days. June 19th, 2:13 PM. Don't say I didn't warn you. Try to keep your bastard alive. If you can."

"What apocalypse? What nonsense -"

Killian's men opened the door. "Mr. Reid, Mrs. Bianca, time to leave. Your car is outside. And Mr. Reid? My boss suggests you start buying canned food. Lots of it."

They were dragged out. Damian shouting, Bianca crying. The gates slammed shut behind them.

I stood there, holding my divorce papers, tears finally falling. Not sad tears. Free tears.

Killian walked to me. He wiped my tears with his thumb. Rough thumb, gentle touch.

"You are free, Elena Thorne," he whispered.

"Not Thorne yet," I said, laughing through tears.

"Soon," he said. "In five days, the world ends. And we start."

Outside, Damian's car screeched away. He thought he lost a wife. He didn't know he just lost his only chance to survive.

Because his bunker was empty. His money was gone. His wife was now in the arms of the Mafia heir. And the virus was coming.

Let him laugh. He won't be laughing on June 19th.