~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 whisper, 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. Sophia gasps, clutching her cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You bitch!" she shrieks. "Say that again," I breathe, voice deathly calm. "And I’ll break your teeth." She stares at me, stunned, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. 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. Damian pushed me. I hear his sharp intake of breath. “Elena.” That's his voice. The Asshole. The same man who just pushed me to the ground. I painfully push myself up onto my elbows. My head feels as if it is going to split in two. My forehead is wet with my blood, and I feel the sticky warmth of my blood as it trails down my face. I turn my head slowly, my vision still hazy. And there they are. Standing together. Sophia is pressed against Damian’s side, her arms hooked around his. And him? He’s just standing there. Not helping me up. Not apologizing. Not even flinching. He's just watching me like I’m nothing more than an inconvenience. "Elena," he says again. 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?" I blink, my heart thudding so hard it hurts. 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. My hands shake as I push myself off the ground. Standing straight, 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. I feel like I can’t breathe. My body moves on autopilot. I stumble up the stairs. To our bedroom. Their bedroom. My suitcase is still unpacked, thank God. I instantly grab anything that isn’t mine: 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. Damian turns. "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, I flag down a taxi. "Where to?" the driver asks as soon as I take my seat. I swallow the lump in my throat. "The airport," I whisper. The house disappears behind me as the car pulls away.~Elena's POV ~ I say nothing. Not because I have nothing to say, but because I don’t have the energy for another round of verbal sparring with my insufferable boss. I grip the tablet in my hands so tightly my nails dig into my palms. “Anything else, sir?” My voice is clipped, sharp with impatience and the urge to walk out of his office before I do something we both regret. His eyes size me up in an assessing, amused, infuriatingly composed manner as he rests back on his seat. Then, without a word, he dismisses me with a lazy flick of his wrist. I don’t wait for another word. I spin on my heel and walk out, my pulse hammering as I slam the door behind me with more force than necessary. The moment I’m out, I exhale, shoulders slumping in relief. If hell had an address, it would be Vale Enterprises. And if the devil had a name, it would be Sebastian Fucking Vale. I’ve survived exactly one morning under his rule, and already, I’m convinced he was sent to personally dismant
~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 two nights ago on repeat, torturing me like some sadistic movie director. Every time I close my eyes, I see him. Sebastian Vale. The way his gray eyes locked onto mine. The way his hands gripped my waist, firm, possessive. The way his mouth tasted like whiskey and mint as I leaned in and kissed me.The slow, consuming way his mouth moved over mine that made me weak in the knees. I groan and shove the memory away. It was nothing. A mistake. A drunk, stupid mistake. Except my body doesn’t seem to get the memo. I need therapy. Or maybe a full-blown exorcism. I focus on getting ready for work or perhaps the battle I'm about to embark on because let’s be honest, that's what today is. I put on a high-w
~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 with delight.
~ Sebastian's Pov ~ I’m not supposed to be thinking about her. I should be drinking, flirting and enjoying my night. But even with a glass of whiskey in my hand and a woman pressing her body against me, all I can think about is her. Elena Carter. I wasn’t expecting to see her name when I looked through the applicants for my personal Assistant. And sure as hell wasn’t expecting her to walk into my office today, looking like sin wrapped in silk. She tried to act unaffected. Like I didn’t get under her skin. Like she didn’t want me. But she did. I saw it in her eyes. That look of something hot before she shoved it down. I drain my whiskey in one gulp. Lucas leans over, smirking. “Boss man, are you actually going to enjoy yourself tonight, or are you just going to sit here and brood like some dark, tortured villain?” I shoot him a look. “I don’t brood.” He snorts. “Right. And I’m a fucking virgin.” I roll my eyes, playing with the metal lighter in my hands f
~Elena’s POV~ Buzz! Buzz! My alarm blares like a siren, yanking me out of sleep like I owe it money. I groan, slamming my hand against the clock until the damn thing shuts up. Then it hits me. Shit. I don't have enough time to get ready for my interview. I don't even have an idea of what I'm going to wear. I bolt upright, my brain struggling to claw its way out of the comfort of the night rest. My legs feel like lead as I drag myself out of bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I step into the living room and it looks like a tsunami has thrown up here. Isa and her latest conquest, a half-naked, tousle haired guy sprawls out on the couch, limbs tangled, looking like they just survived a war… or started one. The room is a fucking disaster. Empty pizza boxes. Beer bottles. Discarded clothes. A red bra hanging off the goddamn lamp. I blink. Then scowl. "Wake up, you hungover disasters!" I slam my hand on the table like a judge delivering a death sentence. Isa l
~Elena’s POV~ The past two nights have been hell. I wake up gasping, drenched in sweat, haunted by nightmares. The news of the baby, the image of Damian and Sophia in that bedroom, it all replays in my head, reminding me of every moment I was blind, every second I was stupid enough to believe in forever. And now, I’m here. Bundled up on this couch, drowning in lovesick misery. The dim glow of my laptop screen flickers across my face, illuminating the painful lie I keep replaying over and over again for the past two days. My wedding video. In the video, Damian smiles as he says his vows. The way he kissed me like I was the center of his universe. Bullshit. It was all bullshit. And yet, I can’t stop watching. That is, until Isa walks in and slams the laptop shut. “What the actual fuck, Elena?!” she scolds me, her honey colored eyes ablaze with pure rage. I lift my head up to look at her. My head is heavy, and my body is sluggish from too much alcohol and too many broken dreams a