LOGIN*Elena's POV*
I signed myself out of the hospital against medical advice. Michael argued the entire way to the car, but I wasn't listening. I needed to get this done today before I lost it. Damian was in his study by the time I got home, like usual, but this time, Rosalie was resting on his legs with her hair splayed over his chest, and I felt Michael tense behind as if the scene shocked him. I knew that telling him wouldn't make him believe it; he had to see for himself who his childhood friends really were. He didn't believe that Rosalie would be going too far with Damian, but now he was seeing how far she would go. “Are you here to finally sign the divorce papers and stop throwing a fit because I have new fabricated documents that will be leaked to the press in an hour?” Damian hadn't looked up; neither had Rosalie, who was stroking his chest lightly. “You'll be behind bars before the sun sets today. And you'll be gone for a really long time, Elena. I hope you choose wisely.” “Babe…” Rosalie's voice was soft. “Why bother about giving her an hour? You know she wouldn't do it—” “Actually, I'm here to sign the papers. That's why I came.” My voice was also soft but firm, and the look of shock on their faces was evident when they both looked up at once, with Damian's glass of whiskey shattering on the tiles. Their eyes darted behind me, and they were in for another surprise as they saw Michael behind me. Rosalie rose from Damian's body a little too fast, and she almost stumbled if Damian hadn't caught her by the waist. “Michael. What a surprise. I didn't know you were making house calls.” She was a little winded, and her cheeks were painted pink as if she was embarrassed or blushing at the sight of him. “I'm not here for you,” Michael said flatly, and his eyes were trained on his best friend. “Elena.” Damian didn't look fazed, and he turned his attention to me before he poured out another glass of whiskey. “You brought my best friend to our divorce?” “Yes, and no,” I told him calmly. “Rosalie would have been a fine witness on her own, but I'm here to have this finished up once and for all. To spare each side of any more emotional torture.” Damian scoffed and gently lifted Rosalie from his legs before he downed the glass of whiskey and rose to his feet. “What do you want in return, huh? My company? You'd rather die than—” “Bring out the papers and stop talking already, Damian.” My voice was so calm and cold that I felt the entire room drop in temperature, and even Damian froze in his tracks. “You're serious…” He stared at me with an expression I couldn't decipher, and if I were still the delusional woman that I was three years ago, I would have lied to myself that his gaze had softened. “Yes.” I nodded and moved towards his study table, where I knew the divorce papers were inside a particular drawer. I took it out and placed it on the table, fishing out for a pen. “What do you want in return, Elena?” His eyes hardened when he stepped in front of me. “I don't believe you will sign these papers without an ulterior motive. Knowing the type of person you are—” “There are no negotiations, Damian. I don't want anything from you, and the only thing you want from me is my signature on this paper. And that is precisely what I'm going to give you.” I was past caring about a man who wasn't concerned about my life nor the life of his child, all because of some cooked-up story he had in his head. Damian set his whiskey down. “No conditions?” “None.” “No demands for alimony? No, half of the company?” “I don't want your money.” I stepped forward and laid the papers on his desk. “I don't want your company. I never wanted either of those things.” “Then what did you want? To just destroy my life for fun?” I didn't bother answering him as I signed the papers. “There… You get your company, you get your freedom from me, and you get to keep her. I hope it was worth it.” “Elena.” Michael's voice was quiet, and that was when I remembered that he was also here with me. “We should go.” I nodded and gave Damian one final look before I turned to leave. “Wait.” Damian's voice stopped me cold. I looked back, and his gaze was locked onto his best friend. “You're leaving with him?” “What does it matter who I leave with?” “Michael's my best friend.” “Okay? And you're my soon-to-be ex-husband. You don't get to dictate my choices anymore.” Damian's jaw ticked. “Michael, what the hell is this? You've been seeing my wife behind my back?” “Let's get one thing straight.” Michael stepped forward, positioning himself slightly in front of me. “I found her bleeding and unconscious at the bottom of your stairs because you couldn't be bothered to call an ambulance. I sat beside her hospital bed while you were here with Rosalie. So no, I haven't been seeing your wife behind your back.” He sighed and pinched the space between his eyebrows. “Man, I don't know what to say to either you or Rosalie right now, and I would rather not say anything because I couldn't believe you would do this.” Damian scoffed. “That's because she looks and behaves like an angel now. It would be only a matter of time before she sinks her claws in you and makes you miserable like me.” “Look at her, Damian.” Michael stepped aside and pointed at me, and Damian's eyes were on me now. “How does she look, Damian? This isn't the bright woman we grew up with,” Michael said quietly. “This is what's left of her. After five years with you.” A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it. I wasn't expecting how deeply it touched my heart that I couldn't hold myself back, and I hated that Damian saw it. “They are not worth it, Michael,” I said slowly, giving Damian and Rosalie one last look. “Let's just go.”ELENA “Your son has decided he doesn't want to wear shoes to our wedding,” Damian said from the doorway. I turned away from the mirror and found him holding Lucas against his hip, one tiny leather shoe in his hand. “He was wearing both when Margaret brought him upstairs.” “He removed one in the hallway and threw the other at Ethan.” I laughed as Lucas reached for the flowers on my dressing table. “Give him to me. Perhaps he'll cooperate with his mother.” “I wouldn't count on that. He spent the last ten minutes trying to eat my cufflinks.” Damian brought him over, and Lucas immediately reached for my necklace. At fourteen months old, our son had become an enthusiastic explorer of anything within reach. He had recently learned to walk, although he still preferred crawling whenever speed mattered. “Lucas Williams Cross, your father and I would appreciate a little cooperation today,” I told him. He answered by pulling at my necklace. “That's precisely what he told me downstair
DAMIAN“You have been strange all day,” Elena said.“I’ve been at work all day.”“You called me three times.”“I call you every day.”“You called once to ask whether Lucas finished his bottle, once to ask what time Margaret was leaving, and once to ask whether I had plans tonight when you already knew I didn’t.”I set my keys on the table and looked at her. “You’ve built a fairly convincing case.”“I spent five years married to you. I know when you’re hiding something.”“That is an unfortunate choice of words.”Elena watched me for another moment before returning to the papers in front of her.Lucas had gone down twenty minutes earlier after spending most of the evening refusing to accept that sleep was necessary. Margaret had left for the night, and the house had finally become ours.The ring had been in my pocket since I arrived.I had bought it three days ago and carried it twice without taking it out.There had been no difficulty choosing it. The difficulty had been deciding when
DAMIAN“You’re staring at him again,” Elena said as she lowered her tablet onto her lap.“I’m watching him attempt to eat his own foot.”“That is called discovering his body.”“He discovered his hands last month. I thought we were making progress.”Lucas released his sock long enough to make an offended sound in my direction, then grabbed his ankle again.“He disagrees with your assessment,” Elena said.“He frequently does.”Four months had turned the tiny baby I had once been afraid to hold without checking the position of his head into a heavier, louder boy who had opinions about everything from bathwater to the speed at which his bottle arrived.He was healthy.Dr. Bennett had stopped prefacing every appointment with discussions about corrected age and weight concerns. Lucas was still smaller than some babies his age, although his growth remained steady, his lungs were strong, and he had recently developed a habit of waking us before sunrise simply because he could.Our nanny, Marg
ELENA“Claire has called twice this morning,” I told Damian as I put my phone beside the folder I had been reviewing.He looked up from where he sat with Lucas against his chest.“Did she leave a message?”“The sentencing hearings were this morning. She said she would call when everything was finished.”Damian glanced at the phone before returning his attention to Lucas. “Do you want me here when you speak to her?”“I want you exactly where you are.”Lucas had finished his bottle ten minutes earlier and apparently decided his father’s shirt was the best place to sleep. Damian had a Cross meeting in less than an hour, while I had three production contracts waiting for signatures before lunch.The nanny interviews were scheduled for later in the week.For once, nobody was carrying Lucas into an office.My phone rang again.“Claire, I can talk now.” I answered before the second ring.“Both hearings are finished,” Claire said. “I wanted to give you the outcomes myself before you saw them
DAMIAN“We are not hiring a nanny.”Elena stopped fastening Lucas into the car seat and looked up at me.“You said that yesterday, and I heard you the first time.”“I assumed we would discuss it before you started looking for candidates.”“I haven’t started looking for candidates. I said we need to start looking because carrying Lucas between our offices is becoming ridiculous.”“I can rearrange my schedule.”“So can I, but that isn’t the point.” She checked the buckle across Lucas’s chest. “You have Cross to run, and I have a company that just took an order from twelve stores. We cannot both pretend we have unlimited time because neither of us wants somebody else caring for him.”“I don’t want a stranger alone with him.”“Neither do I.” She picked up the diaper bag. “That is why people interview nannies, Damian. They check qualifications, call references, and spend time with them before leaving their children in their care.”“He was premature.”“I remember giving birth to him.”“That
ELENA “You’re telling me this three weeks before production begins?” I asked. “We only received confirmation this morning.” Maya turned her laptop toward me. “Bellmont Textiles says they can fulfill the first shipment, but they cannot guarantee the remaining fabric within our production window.” I read the supplier’s email again. The twelve-store order was large enough to change the year for us and large enough to become a disaster if we missed our delivery dates. We had spent the past week hiring additional production staff and confirming quantities. Replacing one of our principal fabrics now would affect four pieces in the collection. “Send me every supplier we approved during sampling, including the ones we rejected because of price,” I said. “I want available quantities and delivery dates before we discuss changing the designs.” “I’ll have it this afternoon.” Maya closed her laptop. “There is one company with enough stock. Arden Mills.” “I remember them.” “Their price was







