Chapter 3
Two days later, Dominic found me.
I was sitting in a café near the Meridian building, reviewing contracts, when the chair across from me scraped back.
He sat down without asking permission. His jaw was tight. His suit was slightly rumpled—unusual for a man who treated perfection like a religion.
"You blocked my number."
I didn't look up from my papers.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because we're getting divorced. There's nothing left to discuss."
He was quiet for a moment. I could feel his stare boring into the top of my head.
"You haven't been home in two days."
"It's not my home anymore."
"Elena—"
"What do you want, Dominic?"
I finally looked up. His expression was unreadable, but there was something unfamiliar in his eyes—something that almost looked like confusion.
"I haven't filed the papers yet."
"I noticed. File them."
His jaw flexed. "Not until you tell me what happened."
"Nothing happened. I just woke up."
He leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice dropping low.
"Two weeks ago, you were sobbing in my office, begging me not to do this. You said you'd do anything. You said—" He stopped himself. Pressed his lips together.
"I said I'd die without you," I finished for him. Calm. Detached. "I remember."
Something shifted in his expression.
"So what changed?"
I closed my folder and looked at him directly.
"I realized I meant it literally. And I chose to live instead."
The silence stretched between us like a wire about to snap.
His phone buzzed. He ignored it.
"Vivian said you told her she could have me."
"She can."
"That's not—" He cut himself off again, frustration bleeding through his control. "Elena, this isn't like you."
"Maybe you never knew what I was like."
His phone buzzed again. This time, the screen lit up with Vivian's name. He silenced it without looking.
That was new too.
I gathered my things and stood.
"File the papers, Dominic. Let's end this cleanly."
I was three steps away when he spoke again.
"Who's Richard Chen?"
I stopped.
"My driver saw you entering Meridian Pharmaceuticals yesterday. Richard Chen is on the board." His voice was carefully neutral. "Are you seeing someone?"
I almost laughed.
"I'm working."
"Working." He repeated it like the word didn't compute. "You don't work. You've never—"
"Never what? Never had a life outside of you?"
He stood, towering over the small café table.
"You don't have a degree. You don't have experience. What could Meridian possibly—"
"Goodbye, Dominic."
I walked out.
Behind me, I heard him say my name one more time. But the door closed between us and I kept walking.
That night, Vivian called from a new number.
I picked up by mistake.
"Elena, sweetie." Her voice was honey-coated acid. "Dom told me you're pretending to work somewhere? That's so brave of you."
I said nothing.
"Listen, I just wanted to let you know—we're official now. He asked me to move into the penthouse this weekend. I thought you should hear it from me, not the tabloids."
"Congratulations."
She paused, thrown off.
"That's... it?"
"What else would there be?"
Another pause. Longer this time.
"You really don't care anymore?"
"I really don't."
She laughed—high, nervous.
"Well. Good. I'm glad you're finally being mature about this." Her voice hardened. "Just stay away from him. He doesn't need you showing up and causing scenes."
I hung up.
Then I opened my laptop and pulled up the acquisition timeline.
Six weeks. That's all I needed.
In six weeks, Meridian would own Ashford Industries. Dominic would lose everything. And the patent my mother died protecting would come home.
Vivian wanted the penthouse? She could have it.
Soon, it would be the only thing left.
---
I was sitting in a café near the Meridian building, reviewing contracts, when the chair across from me scraped back.
He sat down without asking permission. His jaw was tight. His suit was slightly rumpled—unusual for a man who treated perfection like a religion.
"You blocked my number."
I didn't look up from my papers.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because we're getting divorced. There's nothing left to discuss."
He was quiet for a moment. I could feel his stare boring into the top of my head.
"You haven't been home in two days."
"It's not my home anymore."
"Elena—"
"What do you want, Dominic?"
I finally looked up. His expression was unreadable, but there was something unfamiliar in his eyes—something that almost looked like confusion.
"I haven't filed the papers yet."
"I noticed. File them."
His jaw flexed. "Not until you tell me what happened."
"Nothing happened. I just woke up."
He leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice dropping low.
"Two weeks ago, you were sobbing in my office, begging me not to do this. You said you'd do anything. You said—" He stopped himself. Pressed his lips together.
"I said I'd die without you," I finished for him. Calm. Detached. "I remember."
Something shifted in his expression.
"So what changed?"
I closed my folder and looked at him directly.
"I realized I meant it literally. And I chose to live instead."
The silence stretched between us like a wire about to snap.
His phone buzzed. He ignored it.
"Vivian said you told her she could have me."
"She can."
"That's not—" He cut himself off again, frustration bleeding through his control. "Elena, this isn't like you."
"Maybe you never knew what I was like."
His phone buzzed again. This time, the screen lit up with Vivian's name. He silenced it without looking.
That was new too.
I gathered my things and stood.
"File the papers, Dominic. Let's end this cleanly."
I was three steps away when he spoke again.
"Who's Richard Chen?"
I stopped.
"My driver saw you entering Meridian Pharmaceuticals yesterday. Richard Chen is on the board." His voice was carefully neutral. "Are you seeing someone?"
I almost laughed.
"I'm working."
"Working." He repeated it like the word didn't compute. "You don't work. You've never—"
"Never what? Never had a life outside of you?"
He stood, towering over the small café table.
"You don't have a degree. You don't have experience. What could Meridian possibly—"
"Goodbye, Dominic."
I walked out.
Behind me, I heard him say my name one more time. But the door closed between us and I kept walking.
That night, Vivian called from a new number.
I picked up by mistake.
"Elena, sweetie." Her voice was honey-coated acid. "Dom told me you're pretending to work somewhere? That's so brave of you."
I said nothing.
"Listen, I just wanted to let you know—we're official now. He asked me to move into the penthouse this weekend. I thought you should hear it from me, not the tabloids."
"Congratulations."
She paused, thrown off.
"That's... it?"
"What else would there be?"
Another pause. Longer this time.
"You really don't care anymore?"
"I really don't."
She laughed—high, nervous.
"Well. Good. I'm glad you're finally being mature about this." Her voice hardened. "Just stay away from him. He doesn't need you showing up and causing scenes."
I hung up.
Then I opened my laptop and pulled up the acquisition timeline.
Six weeks. That's all I needed.
In six weeks, Meridian would own Ashford Industries. Dominic would lose everything. And the patent my mother died protecting would come home.
Vivian wanted the penthouse? She could have it.
Soon, it would be the only thing left.
---