LOGIN“Do you really have to play this dirty game to take revenge on me, Demi?" her ex-husband asked at last. And Demi grinned with such seductive power. “Oh no, It’s not a game, Jeff. It’s just giving you the same doze of your own medicine.” she replied with fiery glare in her eyes. by the look on Demi's face, she was determined to take her revenge just as Jeff, her ruthless ex-husband, has said earlier. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In her hope that real love would blossom free from the shadow of her wealthy and strong family background, Demi Perez had to subtly hide her own identity from her husband, Jeff Ortega. And for the past five years of marriage, all that she ever did was pour all that she has to offer into their marriage, only to be met with cold indifference—and divorce papers that would end things between them. With Demi’s beauty and brains along with her wealth, she had completely conquered the corporate world and made some great impressions everywhere she went, and that includes dominating the failing company of her ex-husband. And in just a year after her divorce, Demi came back powerful and famous. No longer was she the once naive ex-wife that Jeff left behind, because right now, Demi has once again reclaimed her status as the elite and powerful heiress of the Perez clan. But as their old flames rekindle, Jeff wasn’t sure if he still wanted retribution or if he wanted her back. While Demi, on the other hand, has to decide whether she would finish what she started, or risk her heart all over again.
View More(Demi’s POV)
The divorce papers were glaring back at me from the mahogany table like some sort of a nasty reminder of my shortcomings as housewife. My trembling fingers brushed over the ink where my husband, Jeff Ortega’s, signature glared at me, bold and resolute.
His decision was final, and it was unyielding just as the man himself.
However, Jeff was standing in front of the window even as I turn and witnessed how the soft afternoon light shining on his erect figure. His eyes were as cold and far away as before, and his sharp facial features were etched with resolve. The distance between us was heightened by his coldness, even with his back facing my direction.
“I’ve already signed the papers. You should hurry and sign them too,” he said, his tone devoid of emotion. “I want everything finalized before Stella returns.”
Stella. The name cut through me like a blade. My throat tightened as I fought back tears.
Jeff didn’t even glance in my direction. “We’ve agreed on the partition of assets before marriage, so there shouldn’t be any disputes. But I’ll compensate you with fifty million dollars and a house near the border. My father…” He hesitated for a moment, then continued, “He would expect me to offer you something substantial.”
“Does… does your dad know you’re divorcing me?” My voice cracked as I finally forced the words out.
Jeff’s laugh was humorless. “Does it matter? Do you think if he knew it would change anything?”
The weight of his words pressed down on my chest. My grip on the table tightened as I tried to steady myself. “Jeff,” I whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. “Can we not get a divorce?”
At that, he spun around, his eyes blazing with frustration. “I’ve had enough, Demi! Every second of this marriage has been torture. A loveless, miserable relationship—that’s all you’ve given me.”
His words tore through the weak hope I had held onto for so long like a mallet. Even though tears were streaming down my cheeks, I resisted showing him how helpless I was.
“It was a mistake from the start,” he continued. “You knew I loved someone else, yet you agreed to this charade. Now that the five-year agreement is over and Stella is returning, it’s time for you to step aside give her the position of being my wife where it truly belongs.”
Step aside. He was quick to address me that way as though my feelings, sacrifices, and my existence were nothing to him at all. At this point, all that I wanted was to cry out loud, to demand that he acknowledge everything I’d endured for years. But Instead, I could only afford to lower my head as my tears continued to soak the divorce papers lying beneath me.
And then, Jeff’s phone buzzed, cutting through the suffocating silence between us. His behavior quickly changed and it shifted immediately into someone completely different as he answered the call.
“Hello, Stella,” he said softly, his voice dripping with warmth that I had never heard directed at me. “What?! You’re already at the airport? I thought your flight is scheduled tomorrow evening? Alright. I’ll pick you up right now then. Wait for me.”
Without another glance in my direction, he strode out of the room, leaving me with the papers and the shards of my broken heart.
***
I watched that evening from the sideline while everyone seemed too busy especially as Jeff entered the manor cuddling Stella in his arms. The joy of the workers filled the house, and I couldn't help but feel out of place in my own house.
My heart ached at the sound of Stella's laughter that filled the corridors of the manor. "Jeff, do you think all of this seems off? I mean, Demi might hate me for this.”
With a disdainful tone, he reassured her, "Oh, no worries. She won't. This marriage was never real to begin with. She knows her place.”
The words made my chest hurt even more. Even though I had given him everything, he still only saw me as a duty he must fulfill as part of the marriage arrangement.
And for that reason, I made up my mind later that night. I packed a little suitcase and sneaked out of the house without a word. Without looking back, I quickly hopped into the black Porsche waiting outside the gates. As I got inside, I instantly felt my heart tensed.
There, I was met with a worried smile by my childhood friend, Brent, who was handling the wheels.
"Hey Demi, are you certain about this? There’s no turning back once I move the car.” He inquired quietly.
Even though my hands were shaking, I nodded and spoke firmly. “Yes. Just go. I can’t stay in this place for another moment longer.”
***
The sound of the engine had drowned out my racing thoughts especially as Brent's car sped through the streets. In spite of the excruciating pain I was feeling deep within my chest, It would seem like I felt free for the first time in so many years.
“Where to?” Brent asked gently, his eyes flicking to me in the rearview mirror.
I hesitated. “Anywhere but here.”
He understood and nodded. I had known Brent in the past, and he had always had faith in me. He hadn't thought twice about helping me when I had called him earlier, feeling hopeless and broken.
"You know that you deserve more than this." He whispered beside me.
Although I wasn't entirely sure I believed what he was meant with those words, I simply let it sink in. After everything, my heart still ached for Jeff. but despite this, I simply just couldn't get risk pushing myself to be with someone who only saw me as a hindrance to his happiness.
Brent dropped me off at the Imperial Hotel, far from the prying eyes of the Ortega family. Compared to the stuffy atmosphere of the Blue Manor, the air was clear and fresh.
"Just feel free to stay as long as you want to," Brent said, maintaining a steady gaze at my face that it makes me awkward for some reason. “Demi, you always underestimate how strong you are. Also, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.”
I nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over me. I silently promised myself something as soon as I entered the villa. Without Jeff Ortega, my life would be rebuilt piece by piece. A ray of hope appeared in my life for the first time in years.
The hotel turned into a haven for me, a healing space. Brent came back after parking his car, his presence a comforting reminder that not everyone in my life had abandoned me.
"You're doing better than I anticipated," he said in a playful tone.
With a tiny smile tugging at my lips, I answered, "I have to. For myself."
However, a part of me continued to yearn for the man who had broken my heart even as I moved on. Jeff Ortega might have discarded me, but he would never truly be gone from my thoughts.
The crisp night air brushed against my skin as Brent guided me onto the elevator. He had demanded this surprise in the hopes that it would cheer me up. The building was surrounded by glistening city lights.
I questioned in frustration, "Brent, what are you trying to show?"
He leaned against the railing and grinned. He looked at his watch and said, "My secretary planned this. Fireworks start in...three, two, one."
The night sky was painted with purple fireworks as a loud boom filled the air. Below us, couples gathered on the balcony, their faces beaming with joy. I grinned in spite of myself.
"Your secretary has terrible taste," I shook my head.
Brent chuckled. "Better than his past attempts. And there’s more. Gifts from everyone are waiting in your room. You’re loved, Demi. It’s time to focus on the people who truly deserve your love."
His words brought a lump to my throat. I turned away, blinking back tears.
The silence in the wake of Lyra’s question was more deafening than any explosion. It was the silence of a path forking in an infinite wood. One led into the gentle, perpetual twilight of this sanctuary, a life of peace earned through unimaginable hardship. The other led back into the storm, not as fugitives, but as… liberators. The word felt too grand, too heavy for our scarred shoulders.I looked at Jeff. His face was a landscape of exhaustion and love, etched with the memory of flickering in and out of existence. He gave me a slow, deliberate nod. There was no fear in his eyes, only a weary acceptance. We had come too far to stop running now, even if we were changing the direction of the race.I looked at Lina. She stood by the ship, her small hand still pressed against the warm, bronze hull. She wasn't looking at the safety of the crystalline dwelling or the soft, silver grass. She was looking up at the ship, her head tilted, listening to a song only she could hear.“It’s lonely,”
The voice was a key turning in a lock we never knew existed. It wasn't just sound; it was a wave of pure, unadulterated context. The light from the bronze ship didn't push back the Archivists—it rewrote the rules of the space around us. The desaturated colors bled back into vibrant life. The unnerving silence was filled with the sudden, roaring chorus of the forest.The three Archivists recoiled as if struck by a physical force. The intricate sigils on their armour didn't just flash red; they cracked, sputtering with erratic energy. The lead one, its hand frozen inches from Lina, shuddered violently.ERROR. CORE NARRATIVE CONTAMINATION. SOURCE: UNREGISTERED CURATOR-CLASS SIGNATURE.Its synthesized voice was distorted, laced with static and something that sounded almost like… fear.Lyra. She wasn't just a memory, a ghost in the machine of the Ouroboros. She was a part of this ship. She had been waiting.The ship's hatch hissed open, not revealing the dim cockpit, but a swirling vortex
The ticking was a clock counting down the last seconds of our freedom. It was the sound of a cage door sliding shut. The boy—his name was Elias—stared at the grey box as if it were a serpent, his earlier terror now eclipsed by a confused dread. He didn't understand what it was, only that it had come from the eviscerated remains of his brother's life."It was in his satchel," Elias whispered, his voice breaking. "He always carried his satchel…""The beast let him keep it," I said, the pieces clicking into a horrifying mosaic. "It let him run, with that thing in his bag. It was using him to find other survivors. To find… new specimens."Jeff was already moving. He snatched up the box. It was cool and unnervingly light. He turned it over in his hands, looking for a seam, a switch, anything."Can you disable it?" I asked, my voice tight."It's Archive tech. It might as well be magic," he muttered, frustration etching lines on his face. He raised it, ready to smash it against a rock."No!"
The jump was different this time. It wasn't the violent, reality-wrenching tear of the Ouroboros. It was a glide, a descent into a warm, dark river. The bronze ship around us hummed a low, soothing frequency, a lullaby after the Archive's sterile scream. There was no bone-deep terror, only a profound, weary disorientation.The light outside the viewport resolved from streaks into a soft, predawn grey. We were descending through a calm, misty sky towards a landscape of rolling, forested hills. It was Earth. It felt like Earth. The scent of pine and damp earth filtered through the ship's ancient environmental systems, a familiar perfume after the alien loam of the Archive's exhibit.Jeff’s hands were white-knuckled on the controls, his face slack with exhaustion and disbelief. "We're… down. We're stable." He looked at the readouts, his brow furrowed. "The power core is almost depleted. That one jump… it took everything."It didn't matter. We were down. We were alive.The hatch hissed op
The silence in the corridor was absolute, broken only by the faint, sinister hum of the Archivists' charged weapons. The purple light painted their featureless helmets in shifting, malevolent shades. There was no cover, no side passages, no hope of outrunning whatever energy bolt was about to vaporize us. We were a bug on a slide, pinned and ready for dissection.Jeff pushed Lina and me behind him, his body a final, futile shield. My mind screamed, scrambling for a solution that didn't exist. Lina’s trick with the wall had been a masterpiece of desperate improvisation, but it had also led us into a dead end. We were trapped in the belly of the beast.The lead Archivist took a step forward, its weapon unwavering. There was no synthesized voice this time, no declaration of quarantine. This was an execution.And then Lina spoke, her voice a small, clear chime in the tense silence. But the words were not her own. They were a stream of guttural, clicking phonemes, layered with a harmonic r
The world narrowed to the fracture in the wall and the descending teardrop ship. The deep purple glow at its base intensified, humming with a power that made the fillings in my teeth ache. It was a sound of absolute finality. We were seconds from being expunged, our messy, biological story neatly deleted from the Archive's pristine records.But Lina's eyes were fixed on the crack, wide not with fear, but with a terrifying, dawning recognition."It's the same," she whispered, her voice almost lost in the building whine of the ship's weapon. "The song behind the wall… it's the same as the hungry nothing."My blood ran cold. The eraser. The void that consumed reality. It wasn't just a weapon of the Curators. It was a force the Archive was built to contain. And we had cracked the containment field.The teardrop ship hesitated. Its smooth, menacing descent faltered as its sensors undoubtedly registered the breach. The purple glow at its base flickered, its purpose shifting from exterminati






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