LOGINThe date was carved in Savannah’s heart.
Their wedding anniversary.
She had spent the whole week preparing. She bought a white dress that she thought Nathaniel would like. She cooked his favorite meal, even lit candles in the dining room. She wanted that night to remind him they were still husband and wife, that love could grow if given a chance.
But instead of a smile, instead of a gift, he gave her divorce papers.
Savannah lay in bed that night, her body curled tight, her eyes swollen from crying. The white dress was still on the chair. The food in the dining room had gone cold. Her heart felt like broken glass, each piece cutting her deeper every time she remembered his words.
“You were never my choice.”
“You mean nothing to me.”
She pressed her hand on her belly. He didn’t believe her. He thought she was lying about the baby. But she knew the truth. She could feel it. There was life inside her, tiny but real.
Tears ran down her face again. It was meant to be a night of love, but it ended in darkness.
Morning came, and Savannah forced herself up. Her eyes were red, her body weak, but she had to face the day. She looked at the papers still lying on the table, the bold words staring back at her. Divorce. Agreement.
Her chest tightened. She could not sign. She would not sign. Not because she still dreamed of his love—she knew he had none for her—but because of the life growing inside her.
She dressed slowly and stepped out of the room. The mansion was silent as always. Nathaniel had already left for work. He always left early, always buried himself in business, never looking back at her.
Savannah walked into the kitchen. The maids stopped talking when she entered, their eyes sliding over her. She could feel it. The whispers. They looked at her like she didn’t belong, like she was just a shadow of a wife.
Her hands clenched, but she said nothing. She poured a glass of water and went back upstairs.
When she sat down, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Nathaniel’s lawyer.
*Mrs. Knight, please return the signed divorce papers to the office by Friday.*
Her hand shook as she held the phone. They were pushing her, cornering her. She pressed her hand to her belly again, whispering, “I will protect you. I swear.”
That evening, Nathaniel came home late again. Savannah waited, her heart pounding. She needed to try once more, to tell him again about the baby, to make him listen.
When the door opened, she stepped forward. “Nathaniel, please. Can we talk?”
He loosened his tie, his face cold, his eyes sharp. “There is nothing to talk about. Did you sign the papers?”
Savannah shook her head, tears already burning her eyes. “Not yet. Please, listen to me. I’m not lying. I’m really carrying your child.”
His face hardened. He laughed bitterly. “Savannah, stop. Do you know how pathetic you look? Do you think I’m a fool? You think saying that will change my mind?”
Her heart cracked again. She reached out, her voice trembling. “Please, Nathaniel. I only want you to believe me. I—”
He pulled back, his voice sharp as a blade. “Enough. Don’t use a child to hold me. Even if you are pregnant, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want you. I will never want you.”
Her knees shook, but she forced herself to stand tall. “You are cruel.”
His eyes narrowed. “I am honest. This marriage is over, Savannah. Accept it.”
Tears streamed down her face. “This was supposed to be our anniversary,” she whispered.
Nathaniel’s expression didn’t change. “And now it will be the day we finally end this mistake.”
Her breath caught. Her chest ached so bad she thought she would fall apart. She clutched her belly, holding it as if it was her only anchor.
Nathaniel looked at her hand resting on her stomach, his eyes cold. He turned away, his voice low. “Don’t think this child—if it even exists—will change anything. I will not be tied down. Not by you.”
Her heart screamed inside her chest. She wanted to shout, to beg, to make him see. But the words stuck in her throat.
Nathaniel walked upstairs without another glance, leaving her in the silent living room, broken.
Savannah fell onto the couch, her hands covering her face. Her tears poured like the rain that still beat against the windows. Her body shook as she whispered to herself again and again, “I will protect you… my baby… I will protect you.”
She cried until her voice was gone, until her eyes burned dry.
The next morning, she woke to find an envelope slipped under her door. Inside was a plane ticket with her name on it. One-way. The destination was far, far from him.
Her chest tightened. Was he sending her away? Did he want her gone so badly that he was willing to throw her out like nothing?
Her fingers shook as she held the ticket. Her tears fell on the paper.
She whispered, broken, “You really want me gone…”
Her eyes lifted to the window, to the gray sky outside. She pressed her hand on her belly once more, her lips trembling.
And in that moment, Savannah knew she had to make a choice.
Stay and fight for a man who never wanted her.
Or walk away… and raise her child alone.
Her tears blurred everything, but her heart beat louder than ever.
The sound of Nathaniel’s footsteps came down the hall. She hid the ticket behind her back, her chest pounding.
The door opened. He stood there, his face unreadable.
“Have you signed the papers?” he asked again, his voice cold.
Savannah’s lips parted, her body shaking.
She had no answer. Only the sound of her breaking heart.
The silence grew heavy. His eyes narrowed.
And she knew—this was only the beginning.
The house was calm, the kind of quiet that only came after a long day. Nathaniel had just finished showering when he walked into the bedroom and found Cassandra standing by the mirror, brushing her long hair slowly. Her red gown from dinner was gone, replaced by a soft silk night robe that flowed down her skin like water. He paused, watching her reflection. For a second, it reminded him of old times — before everything became complicated, before the lies and the distance. Cassandra turned and caught him staring. She smiled softly. “What?” Nathaniel smiled back. “You’re beautiful, Cass. I almost forgot how much.” She laughed lightly, setting the brush down. “You forgot? That’s rude.” He walked closer, his voice low. “Then maybe I should remind myself.” She looked up at him, her eyes calm but hiding something deeper. He reached out, gently touching her face. The warmth of his hand against her skin made her heart beat faster, though she didn’t know if it was love or guilt
The sun was already setting when Nathaniel walked into the living room, car keys in hand. Cassandra was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone, pretending to be busy. But deep inside, she had been waiting for him to say something. Nathaniel smiled a little. “Get dressed,” he said softly. She looked up, pretending to be surprised. “Where are we going?” He shrugged. “Out. It’s been long since we went anywhere together. You’ve been staying home too much lately. Let’s go have some fun, Cass.” For a second, she just stared at him. Part of her wanted to say no, but another part — the one that loved attention and fine things — pushed her to agree. She smiled, standing up quickly. “Alright then, give me a few minutes.” She ran upstairs to change into a short red gown and light makeup. When she came down, Nathaniel’s eyes widened a little. She still knew how to get his attention. “You look beautiful,” he said. “Thanks,” she replied with a smile, holding his arm. They
Cassandra sat in her car outside a small cafe. Her hands shook. The notebook lay on the passenger seat, pages full of names and plans. She reread the last line she had written and felt a cold on her skin. Power was close. So close it tasted like metal in her mouth.She pushed the car door open and walked in. Vanessa was already inside, sipping coffee, face calm. Cassandra slid into the seat across and stared at Vanessa for a long breath. Her face was hard now. No sweet smile. Only hunger.“Vanessa,” she said, voice low. “We need to step up the plan. Quiet is slow. I want it done faster.”Vanessa looked at her quietly. “Cass, slow is safe. We agreed small noise first. You said you wanted no police, no blood. What changed?”Cassandra’s eyes flashed. “Everything changed,” she hissed. “They laugh. He holds her. He walks like he owns the world. I can’t watch that. I can’t live like that. I want him gone, Vanessa. I want everything gone.”Vanessa’s hand tightened around her cup. “Gone
Cassandra sat at her desk and stared at the company logo on the wall. The room was quiet. Morning light fell across her fingers. Her coffee went cold. She felt hollow and angry at the same time.How do you take a company from a man who built it with his hands? she asked herself. All the plans in her head felt small when she looked at the real thing — the boardroom, the lawyers, the names on paper. Power lived there. Not in pretty dresses or sweet words.She stood and walked to the window. Cars moved below like small beetles. People were living their normal lives. She tasted the truth: she had no clear map. She had to make one.She took a pen and a new notebook. The page was white and scared. Slowly she wrote the first word: *Force*. The word looked loud on the paper.Then she wrote questions, simple and hard.Who owns the shares?Who can vote with me?What legal moves break the trust?Where is the paper trail?Who will help me quietly?She tapped the pen and closed her eyes. Me
Cassandra woke up early that morning, the sun barely touching her face through the white curtains. She sat up slowly, her mind already full of plans. She had cried enough, and now, she told herself, it was time to act. She walked to the mirror and stared at her reflection. Her eyes looked tired, but she smiled anyway — a fake one, the kind that could fool anyone. “From today,” she whispered to herself, “no more tears. No more weakness. Nathaniel will never see me as a fool again.” She stood up, brushed her hair neatly, and wore a simple silk robe. When she stepped out of the room, the maids greeted her carefully, their eyes full of fear. They had all seen how she slapped Rose last time for asking an innocent question. “Good morning, ma’am,” one of them said softly. Cassandra smiled sweetly, to everyone’s surprise. “Good morning, girls. I hope you all slept well.” They nodded quickly, whispering to one another as she walked away. Inside the dining room, the smell of breakfa
The night was quiet, but Mr. Ben could not sleep. He turned from one side of the bed to the other, sweating even though the fan was on. His wife, Mama Grace, lay beside him, weak and coughing softly. The sound broke his heart each time. He sat up and rubbed his head. Clara’s voice kept ringing in his mind — *“You’ll just be my eyes and ears.”* He looked at the money on the table — so much of it, wrapped neatly in bands. He had never held that much in his entire life. It could pay his rent, buy his wife’s drugs, and even feed them for months. But deep down, he knew the money was dirty. Mama Grace turned to him slowly. “Ben… why are you not sleeping?” she asked weakly. He sighed and forced a smile. “Nothing, my dear. Just thinking.” She coughed again. “You’re thinking too much. I know that face. Something is wrong.” Ben didn’t answer right away. He reached for a glass of water and handed it to her. “Drink, my dear. Don’t worry about me.” But she was not fooled. “Ben,







