LOGIN~Elena’s POV~
"Just sign the damn papers, Elena." Damian's voice is flat. Devoid of any emotion. Like I’m nothing. He talks like our time together, the kisses, the way my name dances on his lips every time he is on the edge, the flowers, the dates, the 'I LOVE YOUs', the memories, the promises, like they all meant absolutely nothing. I stare at the divorce papers in my trembling hands, my breath coming off in pants, my pulse hammering like a war drum inside my chest. My fingers tighten around the pages, as if by sheer force I can crush the reality staring me in the face. This is really happening. He thinks he can throw me away just like that? Like I am some business contract he's discarding the second I am no longer convenient? The weight of betrayal slams into me with full force. A slow burning rage ignites in my gut, curling like smoke through my veins with a suffocating effect. I lift my gaze to Damian. The man I married. The man I loved. And yet, the man sitting across from me is a total stranger. His jaw is set, and his dark eyes are so cold and heartless. He doesn’t even flinch under my glare, doesn’t so much as blink. He makes me feel like I’m just an inconvenient problem that he has already moved past. Like I never mattered. A sharp, bitter laugh escapes my lips, the sound foreign even to me. "You really have no soul, do you?" He says nothing. He shows not even a sign of remorse. That silence? That awful silence? It tells me everything I need to know. I feel sick. My stomach churns violently, bile rising up my throat. My fingers clutch the divorce papers so hard that the edges curl against my palm. "You are a coward." I say, my voice trembling as I wait for a reaction from him. But I still get nothing. Just then, I hear a sound. A slow, taunting chuckle. I turn my head toward the source, and there she is. Sophia. Wearing his shirt. The same one I bought him for our anniversary. Her hair is a mess, the undeniable evidence of what they did hanging in the air like a slap to my face. And she’s smirking. Like this is some twisted game that she has already won. "Oh, come on, Elena," she purrs, stretching like a satisfied cat. "there's no need to be so dramatic. We’re all adults here." I see red. Is this woman fucking mad? My entire world is crumbling at my feet, and she has the audacity to act like this? I take a slow, measured step towards her, my hands curling into fists at my sides. "Excuse me?" She shrugs, her eyes sparkling with wicked amusement. "I mean…" She sighs, twirling a lock of golden hair around her manicured finger. "desperation isn’t a good look on you, Elena. It’s honestly embarrassing." The blood in my veins turns to molten fire. My pulse roars in my ears with a deafening effect. The fucking audacity! Her lips curve into a smirk. "And besides… you didn’t really think he was loyal, did you?" That’s it. Before I can think, before I can stop myself, I lunge at her. My palm connects with her cheek so hard that my own hand stings from the impact. CRACK. The slap echoes through the room, loud and very satisfying to my soul. "You bitch!" she shrieks. "Say that again," I say, voice deathly calm. "And I’ll break your teeth." Sophia gasps, clutching her cheek. Her eyes well up with instant crocodile tears as she looks past me. "Damian... my face... she’s crazy!" In the blink of an eye, a pair of strong hands grip me. I barely have time to react before those strong hands shove me backward. And then I’m falling. My body hits the floor with a hard thud, my head banging against the sharp edge of the coffee table. Pain explodes through my skull. A sharp, blinding pain. For a second, I just lay there, the room spinning before my eyes. My vision is blurry. My ears are ringing. He pushed me. "Don’t you touch her." Damian snarls. The man who vowed to protect me just threw me to the ground to protect her. I push myself up onto my elbows. My forehead feels wet. I touch it and pull my fingers away to see them coated with my blood as I feel the sticky warmth of my blood as it trails down my face. I look up to see Damian cupping Sophia’s face, his thumb grazing the spot where I struck her. "Are you alright, baby?" he murmurs, his voice sickeningly sweet. "Did she hurt you?" "I’m scared, Damian." Sophia whimpers, burying her face in his chest. "Stop making a scene, Elena," he says as he turns to face me completely ignoring the blood dripping down my face. "Just sign the papers and go before you embarrass yourself further." He is not even apologizing. Not helping me up. Not even flinching. He's just watching me like I’m nothing more than an inconvenience. And the worst part? There’s no guilt in his voice. No regret. No concern. Absolutely Nothing. He looks at me like I’m the villain in this story. Sophia giggles. GIGGLES. She traces her nails along Damian’s chest, tilting her head as she purrs, her voice dripping with sheer mockery, "Baby, tell her. Tell her how romantic today has been." "What?" Sophia sighs. Her lips curve into a slow, venomous smile. "Oh, Elena. You didn’t know?" She sighs again, tilting her head with fake sympathy. And right then, she lifts her hand up to her collarbone, wiggling her fingers. I see it. A ring. A fucking engagement ring. My stomach drops. A deep hole opens inside my chest, swallowing me whole. "Damian proposed to me today, and it was so dreamy." The air leaves my lungs in a harsh gasp. It feels like someone just ripped my heart out and is crushing it under their fucking boot. Sophia sighs dramatically, rubbing her hand over her stomach. "Oh, and of course, you’re invited to our baby shower," she coos. "It’ll be so much fun." As if the bombshell was not enough, he leans in and kisses her. Right there. In front of me. Tongues and all. I don’t realize I’m crying until the salty taste floods my lips. "Fun?" I choke out as I stand up straight. "Is this fun to you?" I let out a laugh. A real laugh. Despite the pain in my chest and the throbbing pain in my head, I find myself laughing and pulling my hair. I am losing my mind. This is like a scene in the movies, except that it is actually happening to me. In reality. My eyes dart around the room and land on the porcelain flower vase hanging on the wall behind me. "You want fun right? I will give you fun." I say as I grab the vase. "Elena, stop!" Damian shouts. But it’s too late. I hurl the vase at them with every ounce of strength I have left. CRASH. It shatters inches above their heads, showering them in expensive shards and flowers. Sophia shrieks, as she hides behind Damian. "Oops," I cackle. "My hand slipped." And with that, I turn and move towards the stairs. To our bedroom. Their bedroom. My suitcase is still unpacked, thank God. I instantly grab anything that I didn't buy with my money: every dress, every piece of jewelry, every useless reminder of what once was. I toss them all onto the floor. The only things I take? The ones I bought myself. Done, I march back downstairs, dragging my suitcase behind me. Downstairs, Sophia is still perched on Damian who is cleaning off the water from her face. He turns when he hear me walk in. "Elena..." I don't say anything to him. Picking up the divorce papers from where I left them, I take off my wedding ring and hold the useless piece of shit between my fingers. Then, with perfect aim, I throw it. It hits him square in the face. He flinches, stunned. "I will mail you the divorce papers when I am done signing them. You can keep the damn house to yourself. You both are disgusting and you deserve each other." I spit the words out like they burn my tongue. With the divorce papers in my hand and my suitcase, I turn and walk the hell away. Outside, the anger inside me is still boiling hot and then I spot Damian's car, the same one he had saved up for months to buy, the one he loves so much that he won't let anyone else drive packed in the driveway and a smile spreads across my face. I drop my suitcase right there on the porch and head back into the house heading straight to the one place I know Damian keeps his golf clubs. Damian and Sophia watch me, confused. Getting there, I grab one of his golf clubs and head outside. "Elena, what are you—" Damian says as he starts to follow me. His voice gets louder as I step closer to the car. "Elena. Elena, don't—" Too late. SMASH. The windshield shatters as the golf club lands on it, the sound beautiful to my ears. "ELENA!" Damian rushes out, his face twisted in horror. I swing and swing and swing as the smashing sound seems to reduce the ache in my chest. Sophia screams from the doorway, but I don't stop. "YOU'RE CRAZY! YOU'RE FUCKING CRAZY!" Damian yells, but he doesn't come close enough to stop me. Coward. My arms burn. My head throbs. Blood still drips down my face but I don't stop until every single window is destroyed. Finally, breathing hard, I drop the golf club. It makes a clattering sound as it drops on the driveway. I turn to face them. Damian looks like he's about to have a stroke. His face is red, his hands clenched into fists. Sophia is crying, makeup running down her face. "There," I say. "Now we're even." I walk past them, grab my suitcase, and head toward the street. There, I flag down a taxi that is passing by. The driver pulls over, his eyes widening as he takes in my appearance. "You okay, miss?" he asks hesitantly. "Never been better" I say, throwing my suitcase in the back and sliding into the seat. I look back at the house one last time. Damian is on his knees next to his ruined car. "Where to?" the driver asks as soon as I close the door. I swallow the lump in my throat. My hands are still shaking. "The airport," I whisper. The driver nods and pulls away. The house disappears behind me as the car pulls away, along with the shattered remains of Damian's precious car.. And I don't look back.~Elena’s POV~ Today is my first day at work, and already, I feel like I’m walking into the seventh circle of hell. The nerves hit me the second my alarm went off this morning, and Isa's teasing certainly didn’t help. Neither did my damn brain, which played the events of that night on repeat, torturing me like some sadistic movie director. Every time I close my eyes, I see him. Sebastian Vale. My Boss I remember the way his gray eyes locked onto mine every time I shut my eyes. The way his hands gripped my waist, firm, possessive. The way his mouth tasted like whiskey and mint as I leaned in and kissed him. The slow, consuming way his mouth claimed mine that made me weak in the knees. I groan and shove the memory away. It was nothing. A mistake. A drunk, stupid, reckless mistake. Except my body doesn’t seem to agree with me. I focus on getting ready for work. I put on a highwaisted black skirt, a fitted navyblue blouse and a pair of black heels sharp enough to stab s
~Elena’s POV~ Pain. That is the first thing I register. A head pounding what-the-actual-fuck level of pain. It's a full-scale attack on my skull, hammering away like my brain personally offended the gods of tequila and they’re exacting their revenge with a damn jackhammer. The second thing I register? My stomach. It’s currently staging a full-scale rebellion, twisting and turning like it’s ready to eject every ounce of last night’s poor decisions. I groan, rolling onto my side. I barely crack one eye open only to come face to face with Isa, who is grinning like she just won the goddamn lottery with her head propped on her hand. Oh no. That look never means anything good. I squeeze my eyes shut, praying to the universe to rewind time. Pleading with my brain to try everything in its power to remember the events of last night. "Please, please tell me I didn’t do something stupid." Isa hums, stretching like a cat. “Sooo…” She draws the word out, her voice practically singing
~ Sebastian's Pov ~ I’m not supposed to be thinking about her. Not here. Not now. Not ever. I should be drinking, flirting, and losing myself in a woman’s mouth or pussy by now. That is the point of tonight: To let loose. Instead, I'm sitting here in my VIP booth in the club playing with the glass of whiskey in my hand. A woman sits beside me. She leans closer to my side like she wants to whisper into my ear. Her perfume is sickly sweet. Her nails scratch lightly over my skin as she runs her hands on my arm. I feel the heat of her body as she whispers something about a private room. But, I don’t hear her. Because my mind is elsewhere. On the face I was not expecting to see staring back at me when I went through the list of applicants for my new personal assistant. The last one I had who had been with me for three years decided to resign without much warning. Said she wanted a “less intense environment.” whatever that meant. A week later, I learnt that she was working in a st
~ Elena’s POV ~ After completing the necessary procedures to finalise my employment, I enter the nearest restroom to relax my nerves. My heart is still jackhammering as I lean on the door of the restroom stall. My entire body burns like I just walked through fire and somehow came out whole and I don’t trust my legs to carry me all the way to my car. I got the job. The words don’t feel real, so I say them out loud just to make them sink in. “I got the job.” My hand is already in my bag searching for my phone before the disbelief wears off. There is only one person I need to call. Isa picks up on the second ring. Her voice is a mix of fatigue and espresso-shot energy. In the background, I hear the buzz of her studio. “Tell me everything, babe.” I laugh, a shaky sound. “I got it.” Isa lets out a squeal so loud I have to hold the phone away from my ear. “Shut. Up. You’re lying. No, you’re not lying because I hear it in your voice. Oh my God, Leni!” I grin helplessly. “I start Mo
~Elena’s Pov ~ "Are you seriously going to keep acting like you don't remember me?" I finally let it out, unable to bear the charade any longer. My voice comes out sharper than I intended, as I'm unable to hide my annoyance anymore. He looks at me putting on this confused look that's almost believable. Almost. "Excuse me?" He says like he's trying to place me, but something about his voice sounds fake. I lean forward, pressing my hands flat against my thighs to stop them from doing anything stupid like yanking off all his hair. “I believe you owe me an apology after spilling a drink on me and walking away without so much as a 'sorry.'" “Oh, you're that woman from the airport,” The corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk, and this time he doesn't try to hide it. He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers again in a way that's becoming annoyingly familiar. "You have quite a mouth, Miss Carter." "Better than having no manners, Mr. Vale." The words hang in the ai
~ Elena's pov ~ The moment I open the doors and step into the office, my stomach drops like I just stepped off a Ferris wheel. This office is insane, but in a good and luxurious way. The room is big with ceilings so high I have to crane my neck to see it. The walls are painted this light gray color that somehow looks both cold and warm at the same time. Giant floor to ceiling windows cover one whole wall, showing off the city like it's a painting. I'm left to wonder what the view will look like when the sun goes down. Two huge chandeliers hang above me, all bronze and frosted glass, casting this golden light that makes everything look expensive. Really expensive. But what makes my mouth go dry is the platform in the middle of the room. There's this massive wooden desk up there; a dark mahogany with gold trim that probably costs more than Isa's entire apartment. Behind it, there is a chair which looks more like a king's throne than office furniture. The sound of my heels as I mov







