Elena's POV

Seraphina was there at dinner that evening.

She sat beside Lucien — relaxed, elegant, as if that seat had always been hers.

I barely touched my steak before making an excuse to leave. I'd been spending all my time in the medical lab lately. I smelled like disinfectant and had no appetite.

I was done watching the two of them chat like I wasn't there, building a world I could never enter.

But Lucien noticed something was off. He stopped me.

"Elena, you've been emotionally unstable lately."

I froze, then forced myself to sit back down. "Have I?"

He glanced at me, then told the maid to cut my steak into smaller pieces. His voice was as level and cool as ever.

"You've been avoiding me since our anniversary. Haven't you?"

I stared at the sliced meat on my plate, and for a moment, a wave of nausea hit me so hard I couldn't eat.

"If you're upset because I overlooked our anniversary, I apologize."

He watched me with that flawless composure — every word, every gesture, completely beyond reproach.

So he hadn't forgotten the anniversary after all.

He remembered. He just hadn't wanted to spend it with me.

He'd already apologized. What more could I possibly say? What right did I have to be angry?

It hit me then — for four years, I had spent every single day tiptoeing around these questions, over and over.

Since the anniversary, he hadn't slept in the master bedroom. Of course he hadn't found the gift.

The dynamic between us had always been fixed. After my parents died, he was the only family I had left. He was the one who helped me through the grief. I depended on him, and somewhere along the way, I'd fallen in love with him — in the role of his wife.

I was always looking up, reaching out, waiting for him to come to me — to love me, to pay my tuition, to give me a reason to stay.

And every now and then, he'd glance down, offer a scrap of attention or a rare night of closeness, and then withdraw whenever he pleased.

I couldn't even raise my voice at him.

I hesitated, about to speak.

Then Seraphina pulled a face behind his back. She mimicked his stoic expression, dropped her voice to a deadpan: "Lucien, you've been emotionally unstable lately, too."

He let out a low laugh. A real one, tinged with exasperation.

"Cut it out."

In that moment, watching the soft warmth on his face, I went cold all over.

It suddenly felt like the last four years had been a joke.

I had broken myself trying to learn his rules, to fit into his world. And in the end, I still couldn't reach him. I was still on the outside, looking in.

If that was the case, then I might as well leave on my own terms.

I wanted a divorce.

I was done begging him to love me.

Elena's POV

That night, I didn't cry.

I sat at the vanity, opened the drawer, and pulled out the documents I'd prepared weeks ago.

They were short. Just a few lines.

[Elena Blackthorne voluntarily terminates this marriage. No claim to marital assets.]

My parents' deaths were a wound that could never heal. But I was done staying here, to be a wife who was nothing more than an afterthought.

If we were settling accounts — the tuition he'd paid, the connections and mentors I'd gained through him — then we were even.

I read through every word, from beginning to end, under the dim light. On the last page, I signed my name.

Elena Vale.

I folded the papers neatly and placed them on top of a thick stack of files — everything I'd organized over the past few months.

Medical school involved high-risk experiments. Consent forms that required a family member's signature. Every single document needed a next of kin.

And Lucien had always been the default.

I had no idea how he'd react to me asking for a divorce point-blank.

Maybe he'd be angry. Maybe he'd take it as an insult to his generosity. Or maybe he'd dismiss it, the way he always did — assume I was being dramatic, and not take me seriously.

The workload at school had been brutal. For a while, I was practically living in the lab. Between the all-nighters, the low blood sugar, and a low-grade fever, I'd collapsed in the hallway.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. Lucien was sitting beside me, his expression dark.

His voice wasn't harsh, but it carried an unmistakable weight. He told me I was going to get myself killed, and that I needed to take better care of myself.

I was still so weak, but my heart raced. I thought he was worried about me. I was secretly happy about it for days.

I understand now. He just didn't want me dead.

Because if I died, his "compensation" would lose its purpose.

He had never intended to be part of my life. He would never bear any of the consequences.

…

I gathered the papers and held them to my chest.

I walked down the long hallway toward his study. The night was so quiet it felt like a dream.

Seraphina was still beside him, her crimson eyes flicking over me once before she looked away. She sat next to Lucien, completely at ease — clearly aware that her position was untouchable.

At first, she'd regarded me with some hostility. But after watching me absorb everything in silence, never fighting back, she'd lost interest.

From the very beginning, I knew I had no standing to confront Lucien. Even if I did, it wouldn't change a thing.

The distance between us was too vast. No matter how far I reached, I could never catch him. And he would never turn around to take my hand.

I'd given up a long time ago.

Lucien sat behind his desk, the overhead light carving his features into something cold and sharp.

He looked up. "Still awake this late?"

I walked over and set the documents in front of him.

"I have some papers that need your signature."

He didn't ask questions. He simply reached for them — and stopped when he saw the title on the first page. Divorce agreement.

"Oh, Lucien. Looks like your wife is upset." Seraphina had caught a glimpse of the papers. Her voice dripped with artificial sweetness. "I told you — spending all this time with me, she was bound to get jealous."

She offered me a halfhearted apology, trying to wave the whole thing away. "Come on, Lucien, spend tonight with her. I'd hate to be the reason you two have problems."

She made a show of getting up to leave while watching Lucien's reaction from the corner of her eye.

When I saw him actually set the divorce papers down — following her cue — I closed my eyes and let out a cold laugh.

"Don't bother. There was never much feeling here to begin with. There's nothing left to damage."

I stepped forward and placed the pen in his hand.

"I'll walk away with nothing. Just sign."

"Everything you've given me — I don't want any of it."

The air seemed to freeze. Lucien's sharp gaze cut through the composure I was barely holding together.

But I just stood there, spine straight, and looked back at him.

"This is because you're jealous. Isn't it?"

I hated that look on his face — so certain, so in control, as if he had the whole situation figured out.

Even now, he thought this was about Seraphina.

It wasn't just about her.

It was the years of emotional neglect. The indifference. The half-hearted affection. It was the fact that he'd never put a single genuine feeling into this marriage. That was why I wanted out.

And he still didn't get it.

"Do you actually love me, Lucien?"

I held my breath, tears burning behind my eyes.

He looked away. He didn't answer.

Behind me, I heard Seraphina's muffled laughter. The humiliation crawled from the top of my skull to the tips of my toes.

"Just sign. Please. Let me go."

I closed my eyes, voice hollowed out by despair.

Lucien's brow furrowed. He seemed about to say something — but his pride wouldn't let him.

So after the briefest pause, he signed his name.

"Elena, why would you do this? You know you can't survive without me. You'll regret it."

I held my breath until he slid the papers back to me. Only then did my shoulders finally drop.

"Elena, if you want to move out and think things through, fine. But take this."

He sat there, looking down at me, and held out a check.

He was so sure I'd come crawling back. He thought this was nothing more than an irrational outburst.

But what he didn't understand was that real love was never something you could measure with reason.

What I had wanted — what I had always wanted — was never his money. It was his love. The one thing he could never give me.

"Anything else?"

He saw me still standing there and looked mildly puzzled.

In that moment, time seemed to stretch.

I looked at him.

At the man I had loved for four years.

At those cool, distant eyes.

At the gaze that had never once lingered on me.

And suddenly — the crushing weight I'd been carrying just… lifted.

The truth that my parents had died for him — that had haunted me for four years, too.

Whatever happened from here, I was done letting him "compensate" me with mutual suffering.

I smiled. A real one, light with relief. I held the folder tight, and quietly dropped the check into the wastebasket by his desk.

"No."

I said.

There really was nothing left.

Elena's POV

Two days later, I moved out of Lucien's castle. I didn't have much luggage, so I managed with just a dorm room on campus.

My life no longer revolved around Lucien. Everything seemed to return to the way it used to be.

After I signed the papers in his study that night, I didn't see Lucien again. But when I walked out the front door with my bags, I could have sworn I felt eyes on my back the whole way down the drive.

My transfer application to the European research institute came through quickly. Once my internship at Central Hospital was finished, I could board a plane and leave this city behind.

This was something I had always wanted to do. My advisor had pushed the recommendation through the moment she heard what happened, and the whole process was wrapped up inside a week.

I stayed busy, the same as before — only now, I didn't have to rush through my work to get home early. The pace actually felt easier.

I threw myself into my research. Without the weight of a failing marriage, everything seemed to move more smoothly, more quietly.

Until one day, in the middle of an experiment, I collapsed without warning.

I assumed it was exhaustion. But in the instant before I hit the ground, I felt a sharp stab of pain in my abdomen.

I tried to remember when I'd last had my period, and my blood ran cold.

Before the world went black, I heard my classmates shouting.

"Quick! Elena's down! Call an ambulance — who's her emergency contact?"

Oh no.

I'd been so busy.

I'd forgotten — my emergency contact was still Lucien.