Chapter 3

Enlyan’s fingers tightened around her phone as the words burned into her mind. Her thoughts flashed back to Damian’s mother's scathing remarks earlier that day. "You think he’ll stay married to you forever? His first love is back. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves you for good." Her mocking voices echoed in her ears, each word twisting the knife deeper into her chest. Tears welled up in her eyes, but this time they weren’t from sadness—they were from anger and resolve. She had endured three years of indifference, humiliation, and loneliness, believing she could somehow change Damian’s heart. But this was the final betrayal. Next morning, Enlyan stepped into the towering Blackwood Enterprises building, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor. The divorce papers clutched tightly in her hand felt heavier than they should, as though they carried the weight of her shattered hopes and unspoken pain. She approached the front desk, her nerves barely held in check. "I’m here to see Mr. Blackwood," she said, her voice firm despite the lump in her throat. The receptionist raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. Enlyan rarely visited Damian at work; their worlds were kept apart by his insistence. Suddenly the elevator doors slid open, laughter floated into the lobby. Enlyan froze, her heart sinking as Damian stepped out, his arm brushing against a woman beside him. The woman’s melodic laugh rang out, and the way Damian leaned slightly toward her, smiling and engaged, made Enlyan’s stomach churn. Damian stopped mid-step when he saw Enlyan. His smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of surprise. “Enlyan?” he said, his voice low but edged with irritation. The woman beside him glanced at Enlyan curiously, her expression unreadable. Damian quickly turned to her. “Excuse me for a moment,” he murmured, his tone soft, almost apologetic—a tone Enlyan had never heard directed at her. He walked over to Enlyan, his movements brisk, and grabbed her arm gently but firmly. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice sharp as he guided her to a quiet corner of the lobby, away from prying eyes. “I needed to talk to you,” Enlyan said, lifting the divorce papers slightly. She hated how small her voice sounded, but the sight of him with the woman had shaken her resolve. Damian glanced around, his jaw tightening. “You couldn’t wait until I got home?” he asked, his tone clipped. “I’ll ask once,” she began, her voice trembling but determined, “Who is she?” Damian’s brow furrowed as though the question itself was an affront. “That’s none of your concern,” he said dismissively, his tone cold and detached. “You’ve been spending time with her,” she said, her voice rising slightly. Damian cut her off with a sharp wave of his hand. “I said it’s none of your business,” he repeated, his tone more clipped now. The sting of his words made Enlyan’s grip on the papers tighten. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and held the divorce papers out to him. “Fine,” she said quietly. “Then let’s not waste each other’s time. Sign these.” Damian’s eyes flicked to the papers in her hand, then back to her face. For a moment, there was silence, and then he let out a short, humorless laugh. “So, that’s what this is about,” he said, shaking his head. “You think throwing around the word ‘divorce’ will get my attention?” Enlyan blinked, momentarily stunned. “I’m not doing this for attention,” she said, her voice firm despite the lump in her throat. “I’m done, Damian. I can’t do this anymore.” He scoffed, stepping closer to her, towering over her in his usual intimidating manner. “You’re bluffing,” he said, his voice laced with mockery. “Do you even know what you’re asking for? You think you’ll walk out of here and everything will be fine?” “I’m not afraid to start over,” Enlyan shot back, though her voice wavered slightly. Damian’s eyes narrowed, and his smirk turned cruel. “Start over with what?” he asked. “Your father’s medical bills? Your family’s debts? Do you think anyone else will be as generous as I’ve been?” The words hit her like a physical blow, and she staggered back a step. “You’re not doing this out of generosity,” she said, her voice shaking. “You’re doing it to control me.” He took a step closer, his voice low and venomous. “You should think carefully before you go through with this. Once we’re done, I’ll have no reason to support your father. You’ll be on your own, Enlyan. Completely.” Enlyan swallowed hard, fighting back tears. The man she had once admired, who she thought she could make love her, stood before her as a stranger—cold, cruel, and indifferent to her pain. “You can’t use my father like that,” she said, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady. Damian’s expression was unreadable. He didn’t even seem to care. Before she could say another word, the phone rang, and Damian immediately answered it, his tone changing the instant he spoke. “I’ll be there in a moment,” he said, his voice warmer, more familiar. Enlyan felt a sickening wave of nausea rise in her stomach as she realized who was on the other end of the line. He didn’t even glance at her as he hung up, his attention fully diverted. “You’d better not regret this later,” he said, his voice cold and indifferent as he turned away. “I won’t be here when you realize how much you’ve lost.” He signed the divorce paper And just like that, he walked away. Enlyan stood there, her heart shattering with each step he took toward the exit, toward the woman who had so easily replaced her in his life. She stared after him, the echo of his words ringing in her ears. Enlyan’s mind was a blur as she walked out of the building, holding divorce paper, her body feeling light as though the weight of her emotions was pulling her down. Her lawyer was waiting for her outside and she give him divorce paper and he left. After lawyer left, a man stepped into her path, blocking her way. His suit was impeccable, his expression polite but detached. "Mrs. Blackwood," he greeted, bowing his head slightly. "Mr. Blackwood arranged for us to take you home." Confusion clouded her thoughts. She didn’t understand why Damian would care about her getting home when he just signed the divorce paper. He’d just mocked her, made it clear he didn’t want her anymore. But before she could protest, the man gestured toward a car parked nearby, its engine running quietly. She hesitated for a moment, but She followed him into the car, her heart still heavy. As the car began to move, something didn’t feel right. The route they were taking was unfamiliar, and the scenery around her quickly became more desolate. The car’s steady hum filled the silence, but a growing unease curled in her stomach. “Where are we going?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. The driver didn’t answer immediately. His eyes remained focused on the road, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. After a few moments, he spoke, his voice as cold as ice. “Mr. Blackwood didn’t want the divorce to ruin his reputation, Miss Blackwood,” he said, his words sending a chill down her spine. “But… it wouldn’t be a problem if you died.” The words cut through her like a knife, and for a moment, she thought she hadn’t heard him correctly. “What?” she whispered, unable to fully comprehend the meaning behind his chilling statement. “Don’t worry,” the driver continued, his tone detached, “this is all for Mr. Blackwood’s sake. You won’t be a problem anymore.” Enlyan’s pulse quickened, panic creeping up her spine. She realized then that the car wasn’t headed in the direction of her home. The surroundings had become more isolated, the streets darker, and she had no idea where they were going. What was Damian thinking? He wanted her dead? Why? Her heart raced as the car continued toward the edge of the world. She tried to steady her breathing, but the fear was suffocating. She had always known Damian was ruthless, but she never imagined he would go this far. She looked out the window, the ocean in the distance now visible, its waves crashing violently against the rocks. And it was then that she understood—this wasn’t just about her leaving him. This was about eliminating the problem altogether. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. It's all Mr. Blackwood's orders. Don't worry, Mr. Blackwood will pick a good cemetery for you." Then he jumped out of the car. The car drove straight toward the edge of the ocean, the headlights illuminating the dark waters. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, as the realization hit her hard: Damian had arranged for her to die. With a final, deafening screech, the car plunged into the ocean. The world tilted violently as the water rushed in, swallowing everything around her. The last thought that passed through Enlyan’s mind was a vow—a vow she would never forget. I will never forgive you, Damian.