Chapter 3

Elena’s POV

The words barely leave my mouth when Tristan grabs my arm again, squeezing hard as he leans in and looks me directly in the eyes.

“Divorce?” Tristan echoes, scoffing. “Are you sure about that? Think about the consequences, Elena. It’s not just you and your pride on the line.”

I don’t say anything. I just lock my gaze with his, wanting him to see the pain in my eyes. Wanting to see maybe just a twinge of sympathy or understanding from him.

Anything. Just so I know that the love I have for him isn’t for nothing.

But the only spark I see in his eyes is coldness and anger.

Has it always been this way? I can’t help but ask myself. Has Tristan always hated me and I was just too blind to notice?

I remember the first time we met.

It was at my high school graduation party. Mira was there, and she kept giving me drinks to get me to loosen up.

“You’re too uptight,” she told me then, laughing at me. “Just loosen up and have more drinks! You’re too young to be like this! Have fun!”

I’ve always been jealous of the carefree way she handled herself, so I gave in. I drank and drank until the whole room swam in front of me. Then, she called in some boys to help me let go of my inhibitions.

At first, I thought it was fun. I was being like Mira, the sister everyone wants to be around.

But it took a dark turn really quickly.

“Take her to the lockers,” one guy told his friends as they danced around me. “She’s drunk enough… and maybe we can take turns on her. Anyway, we got the permission.”

Before I could figure out what they meant, they took me to the locker room like they said. As they laughed, they tried to strip me off my clothes. I was too drunk to fight back. I couldn’t move.

The only thing I could do was tell them no. “Please, don’t touch me!”

They just mocked me. I could feel their hands all over me. I thought it was the end….

But then, Tristan showed up.

“What are you doing?” he demanded when he opened the door. “Leave the girl alone! She’s clearly drunk!”

The boys scattered. He helped me get up. “You alright?”

All I could do was nod. It was nothing romantic. Even to this day, I don’t think it was a big deal to him. He left me there as soon as he saw that I was fine enough.

But since that day, I loved him like he was an angel that descended from the heavens to help me.

It was only later that month that I found out that Tristan’s family was doing business with my family. They were partners. I became more and more invested in knowing about the business, attending meetings and gatherings to get closer to him.

But even then, he only had eyes for Mira.

Every gathering I would see him trying to talk to her. Even when I tried to initiate things with him, he was never interested.

Then, over five years ago, my father faced bankruptcy.

“I’m sorry,” I remember him confessing to the family. “I… I let my gambling get the best of me. I thought the investment wouldn’t fail. But we still have a lifeline—a marriage to seal my collaboration with my business partner.”

He then turned to Mira.

“My daughter… you need to do this for the family.”

But Mira didn’t want to. She was all about freedom and having fun, pursuing the things that brought her the most pleasure. Being locked down in an arranged marriage would get in the way of all of that.

So, she came to me.

“You need to marry Tristan,” she said. “Please. I don’t want to be married to someone so young with no actual power. It still fulfills the deal. You’d do that for me, right?”

And I did do it. I volunteered to marry Tristan. I’m ashamed to admit now that I didn’t do it for Mira. I did it for me.

Our father didn’t disagree. According to the deal, any daughter would do.

But Tristan was expecting Mira to walk to him at the altar. When he saw me, his face immediately darkened. Not wanting to disappoint his own father, he pushed through with the marriage.

However, since then, he looked at me differently. I’ve gone from being invisible to being the gold-digger who took her sister’s place to get ahead and be lavish.

Three years has passed since then. I quit my job to dedicate my life to making a home for Tristan. I thought it was what he wanted. But now I know that it only reinforced his view of me as a gold-digger. When Mira disappeared, his treatment of me only became colder.

And now that Mira is here, I can see it clear as day: he loved her.

He still does, and he always will.

The difference is night and day. I was beginning to think that maybe he was just a cold man, but that’s not the truth. He’s treating Mira with all the warmth and tenderness in the world. His care for her is unmatched. The only thing I get from him is nonchalance and at worst, suspicion.

I keep looking into his eyes now, searching for a single shred of regret or any other emotion.

It’s still just repulsion and rage.

But why did I expect anything different? Why would he feel bad about being divorced from me?

He can very easily brush me and this marriage off him like dust on his pants, moving on to a new life. Maybe even jumping straight into another marriage with the love of his life Mira.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Tristan asks angrily, his words squeezing out through gritted teeth. “You’re the one who proposed it. I just hope you mean it. Because once you divorce me, you get nothing. Not a single penny. Nothing from my company, nothing from me. Understand?”

I can hardly breathe. My face feels stiff. But even then, I nod as I muster the strength to say, “I understand. I’m going to leave quietly. I won’t cause you or your company any trouble.”

Tristan releases me then, but he grabs my face instead, lifting my chin so that I have nowhere to look at but his eyes.

“After divorce, your family will get nothing too. No funding for your father’s business,” he says slowly, smirking. “Now tell me… what will all of you do? You can barely scrounge money to get the most basic of needs. You can’t leave quietly when I’m the only thing keeping you off the streets.”

I take a deep breath to steady my heart. “Mira is there. She’ll ask our dad for money, and you will have to give it to him. It’s all the same. Maybe he’ll be happier with that.”

Tristan steps back, like he can’t quite believe that I said that. Once he recovers from surprise, anger comes back.

“You sure about that?” Tristan asks sarcastically, stepping towards me until I’m pinned against the wall. “Because the last time I checked, Mira isn’t like you. She’s not here for the money. You really believe she’s a gold-digger like you?”

With that, he scowls at me, then he turns around and heads to the door. The door slams against the wall with the force of him opening it, then he leaves.

Leaving me there trying to catch my breath.

I rub my neck. It almost feels like his hand is on there, pressing against my airway until I couldn’t breathe.

So this is what he thinks of me. A gold-digger. Nothing but a tool to siphon money from him for myself and my family.

But he’s wrong.

Yes, I know that I have no job right now, but that doesn’t mean I have no savings. That’s where I get most of my expenses. Tristan has been generous, giving investments to my family’s business and even going as far as giving me some sort of an allowance, but I never touched that.

The lavish life of a rich man’s wife that Tristan thinks I have is all false. I’m as far from that as anyone can get.

But of course, why would he bother to take a second look?

I watch Tristan’s retreating back, and suddenly I feel a rush of humiliation.

I really was delusional, wasn’t I?

For three years, I held onto this nonexistent emotional connection with him. Pining, yearning, wishing that one day he would wake up and see me for who I am—a good woman who loves him. I worked myself tired, jumping through hoops, only to get nothing but disgust in the end.

Yet here’s Mira, who never even had to try. All she had to do was exist, and she managed to claim his heart without competition.

It looks like the more you try, the less you get.

I ease my breathing, stopping more tears from coming out. I have given this way too many tears already. I just want to stop….

But then, my phone starts to ring.

I fish it out of my pocket, almost dropping it when I see the caller.

Dad.

My hands start to shake. Still, I force myself to answer.

Before I can get a word in, Dad’s booming voice comes through. “Elena. Can you tell me why Tristan hasn’t signed the approval for this quarter’s funds yet?”

I realize with a jolt of dread that today is the quarterly briefing, the day where Tristan approves all the investment budgets.

“I….” I start to say, but I falter.

What am I even supposed to say?

“I don’t know,” I answer at last. But I sound completely unconvincing, even to my own ears. “Dad, I—”

“Wait,” Dad says, his voice suddenly gathering the familiar bite of danger. “Did you make Tristan angry again?”

My throat is tight. “Dad, that’s not the case—”

“You useless little b1tch!” Dad spits out, and I can almost see his face. Red and enraged. Full of hate. Just like Tristan’s. Just like the faces of everyone around me. “You really can’t do anything right, can you? I gave you one simple task! And that is to keep him happy! Of all the times to make him upset… you chose this day!”

“Dad, please,” I try to appeal to him. “I can explain….”

Dad’s cold growl makes me falter.

“I don’t care about whatever he did to you. You are going to come to him and beg him for forgiveness so he can sign the goddamn budget!”