Chapter 3: Come and Get Me

Elena’s POV

When Julian walked in later that night, he walked straight into a crime scene. The living room was a wreck—broken glass everywhere and bridge cards scattered like confetti across the rug. Rose was slumped on the sofa, sobbing like a martyr, ready to give him her version of the "scandal."

Julian went pale. He turned to me, his fists clenched tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

"Elena, what the hell is wrong with you today? What are you trying to do? Destroy this family?"

He took a step toward me, his voice shaking with pure rage.

"And why didn't you tell me you had three days off? I sat outside your office for two hours like a damn idiot!"

I didn't even blink. I just gave him a look so cold it could have frozen hell over.

"I’ve spent years waiting for you, Julian. And I never threw a tantrum like the one you’re having right now."

I didn't wait for an answer. I turned my back on him and headed for the stairs. Behind me, Rose’s shrill voice cut through the air.

"That pathetic little job of yours... what do you think it actually pays for? Every single thing on your back was paid for by my son! I don't even know why you bother showing up to work every morning!"

I let out a bitter laugh. They had such short memories. They chose to forget the year Julian went bankrupt. It was my "pathetic job" that put food on the table. It was me who gave up everything just to keep a roof over our heads. But gratitude is a rare thing with people like them.

We were staying at his parents' place that night. I was in bed reading when Julian walked in. He tossed his jacket and his phone onto the bed before locking himself in the bathroom.

Suddenly, his screen lit up. A W******p notification. I couldn't help but see the preview:

“Babe, you promised not to touch her tonight. Keep your word or I'm done with you.”

I looked away. A few minutes later, Julian walked out with just a towel around his waist. I saw it immediately—a deep, purple mark at the base of his neck. A hickey. A trophy.

He caught me looking and let out a smug little laugh.

"She was fuming today. Took me hours to calm her down. She knows I’m sleeping in here with you tonight, so she had to mark her territory."

Disgust hit me so hard I felt sick.

"Julian... you treat me like trash. Do you really think I’ll never leave?"

He froze for a second, his brows furrowing. A flash of worry crossed his eyes, but his ego buried it fast.

"Elena, knock it off. We’ve been together forever. My family took you in when you had nothing. You’re not going anywhere. This is just how it is in our world. Every powerful man has a little something on the side. People used to make fun of me for being too serious. Now? They all envy me."

Envy him? Sure. The perfect, silent wife at home and a twenty-year-old on the side. Every coward's dream.

"Oh, really?"

He dropped the towel and walked over with a fake-sweet smile.

"Look, I know I’ve been a dick lately. I’ll dial it back, I promise. I won't let her get under your skin anymore. You’re still my wife, the one I love. I’ll come home three nights a week, okay? How does that sound?"

He went to the closet and pulled out a sheer, black lace nightgown. He held it out to me.

"I spent years chasing you, Elena. I can't stay away. The others... they’re just for blowing off steam. But at the end of the day, I come back to you. Put this on. Tonight, I—"

I snatched the lace out of his hands and threw it on the floor.

"Don't confuse me with your little tramps, Julian."

I locked myself in the bathroom. Julian stood there, stunned. For a split second, he felt like Elena was slipping through his fingers like sand. But he brushed it off. She owes me, he thought. She’ll never leave.

He waited for her to come out, determined to get what he wanted. It had been three years—ever since his first "slip-up"—since she’d let him touch her. She said he made her skin crawl.

Gross? He still loved her, didn't he? It was just sex.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed. Damon.

"Damon?"

"You asleep?"

"No, I’m at my mom’s. Why?"

There was a silence, followed by the distinct click of a high-end lighter.

"Your wife there too?"

"Yeah. Why? There a problem?"

Damon blew out a cloud of smoke.

"No. I’m just having dinner with some big shots from the SEC. We were talking about your IPO. I was going to introduce you, but if you’re busy..."

Julian bolted upright.

"I’m on my way! Send me the address, Damon. I’ll be there in twenty."

"Fine. Move fast."

Julian scrambled into his clothes, his eyes bright with greed. Damon was his "buddy," but they weren't in the same league. Damon was top-tier, world-class wealth. One word from him and Julian’s net worth would double overnight. He couldn't miss this.

"Elena, emergency! I’m not coming back tonight!" he shouted before sprinting down the stairs.

In the bathroom, I heard the front door slam. Once I was sure he was gone, I picked up my phone and sent a text: “Plan’s off for tonight.”

“Copy that,” came the reply.