LOGINElena's Point Of View
The walls of the guest room seemed to close in on me, suffocating and cold. The once elegant cream-painted room was now a graveyard of my belongings. Clothes flung carelessly across the floor, my jewelry scattered like worthless trinkets, boxes turned over and emptied, heels broken.
My handbags… designer, vintage, gifts from Graham himself, dumped like trash. The staff had done their job well. They hadn’t just moved me out, they’d desecrated everything that made me feel like I mattered in this home.
I sat on the edge of the bed, clutching my knees to my chest, sobbing into them. My eyes were swollen, my voice hoarse from hours of crying. How did it come to this?
How did the woman Graham used to call his “forever” become the stranger crying in a guest room, hiding from the laughter downstairs?
Everywhere I looked was a reminder of my downfall. The shattered picture frame of our wedding day… the very frame I’d kept by my bedside for years. I picked it up slowly, tracing the cracks across our smiling faces.
A memory came to mind the one that had haunted me since yesterday. The warmth of his hand in mine. The way he looked at me as if the stars had nothing on me. “I’ll give you the world, Elena,” he had whispered during our first dance, “Just stay mine.”
Tears rolled down my cheeks again. What changed? What happened to the man I married? I wiped my face roughly. “Enough,” I whispered aloud. My reflection on the vanity across the room was pitiful. Broken. Defeated.
But not for long.
With a sudden surge of resolve, I stood up. My legs were shaky, but my spine straightened with every breath I took.
I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror propped against the wardrobe. My eyes were puffy, lips cracked, hair sticking in every direction. Was this who I’d become? A shadow of myself, all in the name of love?
I walked into the bathroom, splashing cold water over my face. Then I pulled out my makeup kit. Layer by layer, I rebuilt myself.
Foundation to hide the sorrow. Blush to bring back the fire. Red lipstick, the same shade I wore on our first date. Black eyeliner, sharp enough to kill.
I curled my hair, letting the voluminous waves fall around my shoulders like a lioness preparing for war. Then I slipped into a crimson body-hugging dress that clung to my curves like sin. One Graham hated. “Too revealing,” he used to say.
Tonight, I wanted it to be.
I sprayed my signature perfume, five times, no less. Let the scent linger.
I grabbed my black stilettos, my clutch, and my car keys. Before stepping out, I took a long look around the guest room and muttered, “You may have thrown me here, but you’ll regret ever trying.”
I locked the door behind me. My things weren’t safe… neither was my dignity, but for now, it was enough.
From the top of the stairs, I could see them all, laughing. Lillian was curled up next to Graham, her bump on full display like a badge of victory. His mother sat across from them, holding a glass of wine, her face bright and joyful.
A family portrait. Without me. They hadn’t noticed me yet.
I straightened my posture, placed one hand on the railing, and descended the stairs like a queen reclaiming her throne. Every step echoed in the living room, and one by one, heads turned.
Conversations stopped. Laughter died. Graham was the first to speak.
His eyes scanned me, wide and speechless, before narrowing in suspicion. “Where are you going dressed like that?”
I reached the last step, looked him dead in the eyes, and replied coolly, “That’s none of your business.”
His mother’s wine glass paused mid-air. “Excuse me? You’re in my son’s house.” I slowly turned to her and gave her a smile colder than ice.
“And so? He’s gotten the child he’s always wanted, right?” I gestured lazily to Lillian. “So now, I’m going to get the fun I want.”
Graham stood up sharply. “What the hell does that mean?” I tilted my head, lips curling. “It means I’m going to get myself a boyfriend.”
The room fell into stunned silence. “You what?” he barked. Lillian scoffed. “Well, that didn’t take long.”
His mother’s face turned red with rage. “You ungrateful little…”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I snapped, my voice so sharp it cut through the air like a blade. Graham’s brows furrowed, jaw clenched. “You’re my wife, Elena.”
“And you’re the man who invited your pregnant mistress into our home, into our bed,” I hissed. “Wife or not, I’m done playing the fool.”
“You think dressing like that and going out will change anything?”
“No. But it’ll remind you of who I was before I became the woman you tried to break.” Lillian laughed mockingly. “God, the drama. Just leave already.”
I took two steps toward her. “Don’t push me, Lillian.”
“Oh please. You think you scare me?”
“No, but I’d love to watch you scream.”
“Elena!” Graham barked, stepping between us. His mother stood up. “Don’t you dare disgrace this family!”
I let out a laugh… sharp and amused. “Oh, the family that brought in the side piece while I still wear the wedding ring? That family?”
Lillian leaned into Graham’s ear. “Let her go, baby. She’s just bitter.”
His mother crossed her arms. “Go ahead, Elena. Walk out that door. But you’ll come back and realize you’re nothing without my son.”
That one stung. It always did. Because part of me used to believe it.
But I tilted my chin and forced a smile. “I’ll come back when I’m done enjoying myself. You know, since it’s open marriage now.”
Graham moved fast, stepping in front of me. “You can’t leave dressed like this. You’re still my wife.”
I raised a brow. “Oh, now the husband card comes out?” I pushed past him slightly, but he grabbed my wrist. “Elena,” he said, his voice deeper now. “Don’t test me.”
I pulled my wrist free and stepped back. “You wanted an open marriage?” I said sweetly. “You’ve got one. But don’t forget… I can open doors too.”
He blinked.
Looked at me. Really looked. And for the first time since this nightmare began… something flickered in his eyes. Regret? Panic? Possessiveness?
I didn’t care.
I dragged my eyes down his frame, back up to his face, and let my voice drop, seductive and venomous. “Don’t worry. I’ll have fun.”
He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair, pacing slightly. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Oh no,” I said, flashing a dazzling smile. “I’m just getting started.”
Then I turned on my heels and walked out of that house like I wasn’t burning inside.
Graham's Point Of View "Do you think Elena is behind it?" The question didn't hit me the way it should have. It didn't shock me. Didn't anger me. It just… settled. Heavy. Expected. Like a stone dropping into still water, sending ripples I'd already anticipated. I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I studied him, really looked at him. At the way his eyes had narrowed again, sharp and calculating, like everything had already shifted from anger to strategy. To suspicion. To blame. It was a familiar transformation, one I'd witnessed countless times throughout my life. My father never stayed vulnerable for long. I exhaled slowly, my gaze dropping briefly to the signed documents on the table before lifting back to him. The papers seemed to mock us both, sitting there so innocuously despite the chaos they represented. I paused. Because the answer wasn't simple, and he wouldn't accept anything complicated. Not right now. Not when everything was burning around us and he needed
Graham's Point Of View"I'll sign it."The moment the words left my mouth, something in the room shifted. Not dramatically. Not loudly. Just enough.My father's shoulders eased slightly, like a tension he'd been holding finally found a place to settle. The lines around his mouth softened, though his expression remained carefully controlled."Now you're talking sense," he said.His tone carried approval, but it wasn't warm. It was the kind of approval you gave a business decision, not a person. The kind that made you feel like a chess piece moved correctly across the board.My mother didn't waste time. She pushed the papers closer to me across the desk, the sound of them sliding against the polished wood loud in the silence. Her movements were precise, practiced, she'd orchestrated far more significant transactions than this."Good," she said softly, though her voice held an edge of finality. "Let's not drag this any further."I stared at the documents. My name was still there, printed
Graham's Point Of View"These are divorce papers." The words didn't register immediately. They hung in the air, suspended, as though my mind needed a few extra seconds to catch up with what my ears had just heard. It felt like being underwater… everything muffled, distorted, moving too slowly. My gaze dropped to the documents in my mother's hand. Then back to her face. Then back to the papers again. "No." The word came out under my breath. Barely audible. "That's not…" I took a step forward, reaching for them, but my hand stopped midway. My fingers trembled slightly, hovering in the space between us. Because I already knew. Before even reading a single line, something in my chest had already accepted it. That hollow, sinking feeling, the one you get when your body understands what your mind refuses to acknowledge. My mother watched me carefully, her expression a mixture of concern and something else I couldn't quite name. Pity, perhaps. "Graham?" I didn't answer. I
Graham's Point Of View"He isn't my only son." The words didn't just land… they echoed, reverberating through the space between us like a stone dropped into still water. For a second, I thought the room had tilted. The ground beneath me seemed to shift just enough to throw everything off balance, making me question whether I was still standing upright. My eyes widened before I could stop them, betraying the shock I desperately wanted to conceal. "What?" The word came out barely above a breath, low and disbelieving. I stared at him, searching his face for anything that resembled hesitation, some flicker of uncertainty that would tell me he hadn't meant it. There was none. His expression remained carved from stone. Beside me, my mother gasped. "Sebastian!" Her voice carried shock... real shock, the kind she didn't bother hiding. The composure she usually wore like armor had cracked. "How can you say that?" He didn't even look at her immediately, letting the silence stretch
Graham's Point Of ViewHis expression didn’t soften. If anything, the lines around his mouth hardened further. “Either you sign those papers—” He gestured toward the documents on the desk, the ones I’d been avoiding since I’d entered the room. “—or get ready to be disowned.”For a second, I thought I'd misheard him. Not because his words weren't clear, they rang through the study with perfect precision. But because they didn't belong to him. They couldn't. Not directed at me. Not delivered in that flat, businesslike tone, as though he were discussing stock portfolios rather than severing the bond between father and son. I took a step back, my breath catching. Then another. My heel nearly caught the edge of the Persian rug, but I steadied myself, gripping the back of a leather chair. My eyes remained locked on him, as if looking away would make the room tilt completely, would make this nightmare solidify into something I could no longer deny. "What?" The word scraped out of my th
Graham's Point Of View"She's as valuable as an empty shell," he said, his voice dropping to a quiet register that somehow cut deeper than any shout. "And you're willing to destroy everything for that." Something inside me snapped. "DAD!!" The word ripped from my chest before I could stop it, raw and desperate. He didn't even blink. His expression remained carved from stone. "Don't you 'Dad' me." His voice came sharper this time, like a blade dragged slowly across glass, deliberate and merciless. "Have you suddenly become holy?" he continued, stepping closer. His eyes narrowed as he studied my face, searching for cracks in my resolve. "Or have you conveniently forgotten everything you did to that woman?" I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth ached. "That's not—" "You yourself said those words to me." He cut me off without hesitation, without mercy. "I'm only repeating your words to you." He paused, letting each syllable land like a hammer blow. "Your exact words." The room
Elena’s Point Of ViewThe night air hit me like a slap as I stormed out into the parking lot, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. The valet called after me, his voice muffled by the roar of blood in my ears.“Ma’am! Your car…”Screw the car. I needed air. I needed space. I needed to breathe bef
Elena’s Point Of View“Who… who the hell are you?!” Lilian’s voice shredded the stairwell as if she’d finally remembered how to be loud.Jaxx’s eyes burned into Lilian. “You tried hurting my woman in front of me… and you have the nerve to ask who I am?”Shock froze Lilian in place. “Your… your woman
Elena’s Point Of ViewThe following week came with a weight I could feel deep in my bones. Every sunrise felt like a warning, that something was shifting, tightening around me, slowly.The Elites’ Gala.A night of glittering masks and sharper tongues. Power dressed in satin, lies wrapped in smiles.
Jaxx’s Point Of View"I’ll let you go."The words hung between us, thick with challenge, with promise, with the kind of dark amusement that made her eyes flash with defiance. She stared at me like I’d lost my mind, her chest rising and falling with sharp, uneven breaths."You’re insane," she hissed







