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VIVIAN
"I want a divorce." The words hit me harder than a slap. For a moment, I thought I had heard David wrongly. My fingers tightened around the glass of water in my hand as I stared at my husband at the living room. "What... what did you just say?" David didn't answer immediately. Instead, he placed a brown envelope on the table between us. My heart suddenly began to race. Slowly, I picked it up. My hands trembled as I opened it. The moment my eyes landed on the document inside, my entire body froze. Divorce Agreement. I blinked once. Twice. Three times. But the words remained the same. "No..." A painful laugh escaped my lips. "This isn't funny." David remained silent. His silence was enough. The color drained from my face. "You can't be serious." "I'm serious, Vivian." My heart shattered. I looked at him as though I had never seen him before. The man sitting before me was my husband. The man I had loved for almost ten years. The man I had sacrificed everything for. The man who had promised me forever. And now he was handing me divorce papers. Tears immediately filled my eyes. "Why?" David looked away. The simple action hurt more than the divorce papers. He couldn't even look at me. "David, look at me!" My voice cracked. Finally, he lifted his eyes. But the warmth that used to be there was gone. "I think this marriage has run its course." A bitter laugh escaped me. "Run its course?" I repeated. "That's what you're calling it?" David sighed heavily. "Vivian" "No!" I stood up abruptly. The divorce papers fell onto the floor. "No, David. You're going to explain this to me." My chest rose and fell violently. "I deserve that much." He remained quiet. That silence only fueled my anger. My pain. My heartbreak. I pointed at him with trembling fingers. "Do you remember college?" His jaw tightened. I continued. "Do you remember all the promises you made to me?" Now, you want to marry Charlotte because she's carrying your child after killing mine. "Vivian" "Answer me!" The tears finally spilled down my cheeks. "Do you remember?" David looked frustrated now. "That was years ago." His answer felt like a knife. Years ago. As though those years meant nothing. As though my sacrifices meant nothing. I laughed through my tears. "Years ago?" I whispered. "Those years built this marriage." I pressed a hand against my chest. "You told me you loved me." His eyes darkened. "You told me we would grow old together." Still, he remained silent. My voice shook. "You told me to trust you." The memories came flooding back. Painful. Beautiful. Heartbreaking. Everything all at once. "Do you remember my first pregnancy?" His face instantly hardened. But I didn't stop. "You begged me to terminate it." "Vivian..." "You said we were too young." I wiped my tears. "You said we needed to finish school first." "You promised we'd have children later." I laughed bitterly. "Then it happened again." "And again." "And again." My voice cracked completely. "Four times, David." The room became silent. "Four babies." My entire body trembled. "Four children I never got to meet." David looked away. Unable to face me. Good. Because I wanted him to feel ashamed. Even if only for a second. "I trusted you." My voice softened. "I loved you." The room felt painfully quiet. Then David finally spoke. "I never forced you." My heart stopped. "What?" His eyes met mine. "I never forced you to do anything." I stared at him. Unable to believe what I had just heard. The man I loved was gone. This stranger wore his face. But he wasn't David. Not anymore. Tears streamed down my cheeks. For several seconds, neither of us spoke. Then David slowly pushed the papers toward me. "I'll give you time." Time. I almost laughed. Time to mourn my marriage. Time to mourn the life we built together. Time to mourn the man I thought I knew. Without another word, I turned around. Then I walked upstairs. Each step felt heavier than the last. By the time I reached our bedroom, I was shaking. The moment the door closed behind me, I lost control. I flew the vase in the room it crashed! A picture frame followed. it crashed too! Then another. And another. Years of pain exploded from inside me. "Why?" I screamed. "Why?" No answer came. Only silence. I collapsed onto the floor. My body shook with sobs. The wedding photograph lying beside the bed caught my attention. I picked it up. My fingers traced David's smiling face. We looked so happy. So in love. When did everything change? Slowly, my eyes closed. And the memories came rushing back. Westbridge University. Nine years ago. I was hurrying toward my classroom when someone suddenly blocked my path. Three girls. The same girls who had made my life miserable for weeks. One of them folded her arms. "Look who it is." I sighed. Not again. "What do you want?" The tallest girl smirked. "We heard you got the highest score in Economics." I frowned. "So?" Her smile disappeared. "So, stop acting like you're better than everyone." Before I could respond, she shoved me. Hard. My books scattered across the ground. The girls laughed. My cheeks burned with humiliation. I bent down to gather my books. Then another hand appeared. A masculine hand. Strong. Steady. One by one, he picked up my books. The girls immediately fell silent. I looked up. And my breath caught. David Blackstone. The most popular guy on campus. The heir to Blackstone Holdings. The man every girl wanted. He handed me my books. Then turned toward the girls. His face became cold. Dangerously cold. "Leave." The girls looked shocked. "But David" "I said leave." None of them argued. Within seconds, they disappeared. I stared at him. Speechless. David looked at me. A small smile appeared on his lips. "You okay?" I nodded. Not trusting my voice. His smile widened. "Good." That was the beginning. The beginning of everything. The beginning of our love story. And the beginning of the heartbreak that would one day destroy me. Lying on the floor of our bedroom, I wiped away my tears. The memories continued to flood my mind. The first date. The first kiss. The first time he told me he loved me. The first pregnancy. The first promise. Every beautiful memory now felt like a lie. Downstairs, I heard a door close. Then footsteps. David was leaving. For some reason, a terrible feeling settled inside my chest. A feeling that something even worse was coming.The bare bulb never turned off. I lay on the thin mattress and watched it until my eyes burned. The plastic ties around my wrists had rubbed the skin raw. Every small movement sent a sharp sting up my arms and into my shoulders. Thirst returned first. Hunger followed, low and constant. The room stayed the same—rough concrete walls, a single locked metal door, and distant city sounds that never came close enough to matter. I tried to keep track of time by counting breaths and the occasional shift in the noise outside. Sometimes I heard the low rumble of a truck. Once I heard footsteps that passed and did not return. The building felt large and empty. Industrial. The air carried the faint smell of dust, oil, and old rain. Ella returned twice during what I judged to be morning. The first time she set another bottle of water on the floor without speaking. She watched me for a moment, as if checking that I was still conscious, then left. The second time she brought a phone and a folde
Rain began falling before dawn.Sofia woke to the sound of it tapping against the bedroom window.For a few seconds, she forgot everything.Then she remembered Isabella.Lucien.The photographs.The lies.She turned toward the empty side of the bed.Alessandro was gone.Her heart skipped.She sat up quickly."Alessandro?"No answer.She threw on a robe and hurried downstairs.She found him in the study.He stood before a wall covered with photographs, documents, and old family records.Dante was there too.Neither man noticed her immediately."What are you doing?"Alessandro turned.His expression softened when he saw her."Trying to find Isabella."Sofia walked closer."You haven't slept.""Neither have you."She looked at the wall.There were photographs of Isabella at different ages.Five years old.Seven.Ten.Fourteen.Then nothing.A gap of several years.Sofia pointed toward it."Where did you get these?""From my father's private archives.""These weren't in the box.""No."Al
The bare bulb never turned off. I lay on the thin mattress and watched it until my eyes burned. The plastic ties around my wrists had rubbed the skin raw. Every small movement sent a sharp sting up my arms and into my shoulders. Thirst returned first. Hunger followed, low and constant. The room stayed the same—rough concrete walls, a single locked metal door, and distant city sounds that never came close enough to matter.I tried to keep track of time by counting breaths and the occasional shift in the noise outside. Sometimes I heard the low rumble of a truck. Once I heard footsteps that passed and did not return. The building felt large and empty. Industrial. The air carried the faint smell of dust, oil, and old rain.Ella returned twice during what I judged to be morning. The first time she set another bottle of water on the floor without speaking. She watched me for a moment, as if checking that I was still conscious, then left. The second time she brought a phone and a folded m
The message from Alexander came just after noon.*Harris has a new lead on the east docks. I am going with the team. Stay in the suite. Do not open the door for anyone except Thomas or me.*I read it twice and typed back that I understood. The suite felt quieter the moment the door closed behind the last security check. Two guards remained in the hallway. The city beyond the windows looked gray and ordinary. I tried to settle on the sofa with a book, but the words refused to hold my attention. Every few minutes I checked my phone for another update that did not come.At three o’clock a knock sounded. Three short taps—the signal Thomas always used.“Miss Vivian,” Thomas’s voice came through the door, calm and familiar. “Mr. Kane asked me to move you to a different floor. The current location may have been compromised. We need to go now.”I stood and walked to the door. Through the peephole I saw Thomas alone in his dark suit, hands visible, expression serious. The two hallway guards we
The rain had not stopped by the time we returned to the hotel. Security teams checked the suite twice before allowing us inside. Alexander spoke briefly with Thomas, then locked the door himself and set his phone on the table within easy reach. I stood near the window watching the wet streets below, knowing Ella was still somewhere in the same darkness.The call came at 2:17 a.m.Alexander’s phone lit up with an unknown number. He glanced at me, then answered and put it on speaker.A familiar voice filled the room—calm, cold, and unmistakably Ella’s.“Hello, Alexander.”He went very still. “Where are you?”“Close enough,” she answered. “Close enough to watch the police run in circles at that empty factory. Close enough to know you brought her with you.”My stomach tightened. Alexander’s eyes met mine across the table.Ella continued without waiting. “I am tired of playing games. You already cost me weeks of planning and two useful people. So I will make this simple. You will sign ov
Night settled over the city while the search for Ella Monroe spread outward in every direction. Roadblocks checked cars on the main highways. Helicopters circled the industrial edges of town. Detective Harris’s updates came in short, frequent calls—each one reporting the same result. No confirmed sighting. No clear trail after the abandoned sedan.Alexander had moved us to a high-floor suite in a secure hotel under heavy private security. Beatrice remained in the hospital’s protected unit with officers at her door. I sat near the window of the suite while Alexander spoke quietly with Thomas and two of his most trusted men. Maps and phone logs covered the table. The city lights beyond the glass looked ordinary, almost peaceful, but I knew better. Ella was out there somewhere in the same darkness.I watched the streets and tried to steady my breathing. She had already proven she could reach through walls, through staff, through prison itself. The short peace we had felt earlier that d







