Chapter 2

Except for a few drinks, there was barely anything edible left in the fridge. Elaine rummaged around in the corner and found a small bread roll. Didn't think twice—ripped it open and was about to take a bite. But just as she raised it to her mouth, a cold voice cut through the air behind her. "What are you doing?" The sudden sound made Elaine jump, her shoulders tensing up. Luckily, she hadn't taken a bite yet—or she'd probably be choking by now. "What are you—ah, jeez, you scared me..." The sentence stuck midway in her throat. A man stood there—tall, graceful, and devastatingly handsome, with the kind of quiet intensity that made you forget how to breathe. His eyes held no warmth, yet they were mesmerizing, like a storm held captive behind glass. He didn't smile, didn't speak, but somehow, his presence filled the room, like music only the heart could hear. This was Marcus. Audrey's husband. Elaine was instantly floored. She wasn't usually the type to drool over looks, but let's be real—he was next-level handsome. Marcus's eyes were freezing cold as he stared her down. Unblinking. Elaine instinctively shoved her hand forward, offering him the piece of bread. "You want some?" "What are you doing?" he repeated, same words, colder tone. Elaine glanced at the bread in her hand, swallowed hard, and muttered, "I was hungry... just trying to find something to eat." That made Marcus frown, his voice dropping to glacier temperature. "You can stick to starving." "Why would I do that?" Elaine blurted out without thinking. "People gotta eat to function! You skip a meal, you feel like crap." As the words left her mouth, Marcus's face grew even darker, like thunderclouds rolling over his expression. It hit her a moment too late—Audrey had landed in the hospital from starving herself. No wonder he looked ready to kill. Thank God Mrs. Thompson happened to walk in then. "Sir, you're home," she greeted, giving a polite nod. Marcus didn't even glance at her. Eyes locked onto Elaine, he growled, "You think stunts like this are gonna let you keep playing Mrs. Sinclair?" "Let me tell you—dream on." Elaine blinked like an idiot, lost for words. Mrs. Thompson stood awkwardly nearby, clearly unsure what to do. Every time Marcus returned, he and his wife fought about divorce. The really messy ones? Those usually pulled in the old Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair to mediate. "Sir, ma'am, dinner will be ready soon, if you..." Mrs. Thompson tried to smooth things over, but Marcus just yanked Elaine's wrist. "Come with me." Before Elaine could recover, he dragged her straight out. Mrs. Thompson was left standing there in full panic mode. Marcus had never laid a hand on his wife no matter how bad their arguments got. What the heck was going on today? Marcus didn't stop until they got to the study. Once inside, he yanked his hand away from hers like he'd touched something gross. Then he pulled out a few pages—standard A4, packed with dense black print—and tossed them at her. "Sign it," he snapped. He'd never touched her before. Now that he had, he instantly regretted it. Probably wanted to scrub his hand with bleach. Elaine picked the papers off the floor. The title at the top stared her right in the face. Divorce Agreement. So this is what Marcus had been after all along—hellbent on cutting ties. Meanwhile, Audrey had done everything she could to hold on. Too bad. Elaine wasn't her. And she sure as hell wasn't going to keep living Audrey's life.