Chapter 5: The Shattered Wife

Paris tasted different when a heart was breaking.

The tabloids hit the stands before sunrise, their ink still fresh when the city began to stir. By 7 a.m., Celeste’s name was everywhere – splashed across screens, plastered on street kiosks, screamed by gossip sites that thrived on blood.

“Arrow De La Vega Spotted with Mystery Woman – Affair Rumors Explode.”

“Exclusive: De La Vega Heir Caught Entering Paris Hotel with Model.”

“Where Was Mrs. De La Vega? Sources Say Marriage Is ‘Cold and Crumbling.’”

Celeste saw the headlines the moment she woke up.

Her phone buzzed nonstop. Hundreds of messages. Thousands of tags. Millions of strangers dissecting her marriage like it was entertainment.

But the photo – God, the photo.

Arrow stepping out of a black car. A woman with long waves of dark hair trailing behind him. A hand on his arm. Flashbulbs exploding.

The whole world saw it before she did.

Celeste stared at the image until her vision blurred.

Anger. Hurt. Rage. Fear.  A storm of emotions crashed inside her so violently she could barely stand.

Her body moved on instinct – shoving clothes into suitcases, ripping jewelry from her neck, grabbing anything she could carry.

She had to leave. Had to escape. Had to breathe.

If she stayed, she would shatter completely.

Arrow returned home to a silent penthouse. The air felt wrong the second he stepped through the doors.

“Celeste?” he called.

No answer.

He dropped his keys on the console and noticed the framed photo from their wedding photoshoot lying face down. Cracked.

His stomach twisted.

“Celeste,” he tried again, checking the bedroom.

Empty.

The closet. Half her clothes were gone.

His chest tightened. “No.”

He found the suitcase wheels marks on the carpet, the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air like a ghost.

Then he saw her phone – left on the dresser.

And something inside him broke.

Celeste’s father arrived before Arrow could call him.

Arthur Montaire entered the penthouse without waiting to be invited, his expression a mixture of fury, calculation, and a hint of satisfaction.

“Where is she?” Arrow demanded.

“On her way home,” Arthur said sharply. “She should never have left in the first place.”

Arrow’s jaw clenched. “You saw the tabloids.”

“Yes,” Arthur replied. “And I’m telling you now – fix this.”

Arrow stared at him, incredulous. “Fix—? I didn’t do anything. That woman was a business associate. We were leaving a meeting. The paparazzi ambushed us.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “The world doesn’t care for nuance. They care for scandal.”

“Then tell them the truth.”

“No,” Arthur said coldly. “You will.”

Arrow’s temper snapped. “I don’t owe you anything.”

Arthur’s voice cut through the room. “But you owe her.”

Arrow froze.

Arthur stepped closer. “My daughter left here in tears, Arrow. Do you understand how rare that is? Celeste does not cry. Celeste does not break. For her to be reduced to—”

He stopped himself, breathing harshly.

“Fix it,” Arthur repeated. “Or I will.”

Arrow clenched his fists. “I’m going after her.”

Arthur blocked the door. “No. Give her space. She won’t listen right now.”

Arrow’s chest heaved. “I can’t let her think—”

“She already thinks it.”

Those words landed like a blow.

Arthur looked away before speaking again. “Celeste needs clarity before she needs you.”

Arrow swallowed hard. “And what do you need?”

Arthur’s expression hardened. “A functioning merger. A stable image. A daughter who doesn’t throw away everything we’ve built.”

Arrow stared at him.

“You care more about the empire than your daughter,” he said quietly. Arthur flinched. “I care about survival.”

Then he left.

Arrow was alone again. Alone… and losing her.

Celeste’s father’s estate in Paris was a fortress of stone, iron gates, and cold shadows. Celeste had grown up there – among marble floors, silent maids, and rules carved deeper than the walls.

She had promised herself she would never return.

But heartbreak makes fools of promises.

She dragged her suitcases inside and collapsed on the foyer’s velvet bench. The tears she’d been holding back finally escaped – hot, furious, humiliating.

Her father appeared at the top of the staircase like a judge waiting for the accused.

“Celeste,” he said. “We need to talk.”

She wiped her eyes. “Give me a moment.”

“No,” he stated. “We talk now.”

Her fists clenched. “I said—”

“And I said now.”

The command in his voice dug into old wounds, old fears. She rose stiffly, following him into his office.

He didn’t sit. Neither did she.

“You made a scene,” Arthur began.

Celeste laughed bitterly. “I was humiliated. Publicly.”

“You ran away.”

“I removed myself from a toxic situation.”

Arthur scoffed. “You think marriage is easy? You think empire building is clean? We endure scandals. We endure pain. We endure because we must.”

Celeste’s voice cracked. “He cheated on me.”

Arthur’s gaze sharpened. “Did he?”

She hesitated.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “But the world thinks he did.”

Arthur stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Celeste. Stop thinking with your emotions. What matters is the alliance. The merger. Your public role.”

She stared at him. Then laughed softly – brokenly.

“This is about the company,” she said. “Not me.”

“Of course it is,” Arthur replied.

She felt physically ill.

“You think I should stay married to him,” she said, “because it’s good for business?”

“Because you were born to do what is necessary,” he corrected.

She felt her heart harden into ice.

“You’re unbelievable,” she whispered. “You think I’m weak for leaving?”

“I think you’re emotional,” Arthur said. “And emotions are liabilities.”

Her breath hitched. Liabilities. Like Clause Five.

Everything was a warning. Everything was a battle. Everything was chains.

“You are not a child,” Arthur continued. “You are a Montaire. Act like it.”

Celeste stared at her father – at the man who had shaped her, controlled her, silenced her. And she realized that staying here was worse than staying with Arrow.

At least with Arrow, she wasn’t invisible.

Her voice shook. “I’m staying in Paris for the night. But not with you.”

Arthur frowned. “Celeste—”

“No,” she choked out. “I’m done obeying you.”

She walked out of his office before he could speak again. She didn’t know where she was going. She didn’t know what she was doing. She just knew she had to breathe. To think. To stop drowning.

Her father’s voice echoed down the hall after her:

“Celeste! Don’t be foolish!”

She didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

That night, Paris felt heavy, storm clouds gathering over the city like the sky itself knew she was breaking.

Celeste wandered aimlessly until she found herself in front of the Pont Alexandre III – the bridge where she used to escape as a teenager.

She leaned against the railing, staring at the water below, letting the cold wind sting her cheeks. Her anger dissolved. Her heartbreak remained.

She thought of Arrow. His hands. His voice. His kiss. His mother. Clause Five.

Maybe she was the fool. Maybe she was the one falling. And falling was the greatest danger of all.

Her phone buzzed. A message.

Not from Arrow. From an unknown number.

TURN ON THE TV. NOW.

Confused, Celeste stepped into a nearby café and asked the barista to switch the small TV above the counter to the news channel.

The screen flickered.

Her breath left her body.

A breaking news banner flashed across the bottom:

“ARROW DE LA VEGA RELEASES STATEMENT ABOUT ALLEGED AFFAIR.”

Celeste’s hands trembled.

The video began.

Arrow stood at a podium, microphones crowded around him, reporters shouting. His suit was immaculate. His face was carved from stone.

But his eyes— his eyes looked wrecked.

The reporter shouted, “Mr. De La Vega! Did you cheat on your wife?”

Arrow inhaled.

Lifted his chin.

And said the last thing Celeste expected to hear.

“I did not. And anyone who suggests otherwise is attacking my wife.

Celeste is the most important person in my life.”

The room exploded in chaos. Celeste covered her mouth.

Arrow continued, voice steady but breaking on the edges.

“I will not let lies destroy my marriage. Or hurt my wife. Not again.”

Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs.

Again?

What had he meant by again?

The video cut. Reporters scrambled.

Pundits speculated.

Celeste stood frozen in the café, the weight of everything crashing into her.

Arrow didn’t deny the scandal for himself. He did it for her. For the first time, Celeste realized something terrifying:

Arrow wasn’t just protecting the empire. He was protecting her.

And that meant one thing – he was already breaking Clause Five.