RENEE.

I clung to my husband, Seb’s arm, as we navigated the crowded room of the high-profile gala. The grand chandelier overhead bathed the space in warm light, illuminating the polished surfaces, designer gowns, and tailored tuxedos. As Seb paused to exchange pleasantries with a group of investors, I plastered on a demure smile, the kind expected of a wife in my position.

Within me, exhaustion simmered. The sequined evening gown felt like a cage, and the heels I wore pinched my feet mercilessly. I wanted to peel it all away, to leave this place and curl up at home with a cup of tea and my favorite book. But voicing such a thought would be foolish—Seb wouldn’t appreciate it. This was his world, and by extension, mine.

I stood silent beside him, an accessory while the men laughed and the other women, perfected, primed, and polished, shot judgments my way.

"Seven years of marriage, yet no baby yet?" one, swathed in emerald green silk, softly said, though without doubt loud for me to hear. She leaned across to one woman, speaking with a loud whisper, "You don't think she may be barren?”

My cheeks burned, but I kept my expression neutral. If only they knew.

“Maybe they’re not trying,” another woman replied with a saccharine smile. “Though, with how much Seb works, I’d be surprised if they had the time.”

Seb was oblivious, too engrossed in a conversation about market trends to notice the knives in their words.

As if to punctuate my invisibility, Seb absently patted my hand. “Renee, why don’t you go find something to drink?”

Dismissed.

The embarrassment stung, and I quickly dropped my gaze. Without a word, I slipped away from his side and headed toward the drink station.

At the bar, Kito Ranch, Seb's best man and COO of Ford Enterprises, stood nursing a glass of bourbon. It was hard to overlook his tall commanding figure in the midst of even powerfully built men.

I hesitated a moment, but being alone seemed worse than an icy reception. Forcing a polite smile onto my lips, I reached for a glass of white wine and stepped toward him.

“Hi, Kito,” I greeted softly.

He turned his head slightly, his stormy blue eyes flickering over me before darting back to the crowd. He merely nodded in return.

My smile wavered, but I pressed on. “How are you finding the gala?”

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he twirled his bourbon, the golden liquid reflecting the light.

“It’s a gala,” he finally stated, his rich baritone voice emotionless.

I tried to ignore the sting. “I guess it is. Do you come to many of these?”

Kito’s eyes snapped to mine, icy and unreadable. He observed me for a lengthy moment before topping off his glass.

Without saying anything further, he turned and left.

I remained motionless, my grip tightening on the stem of my wineglass as a pain surged in my chest. I had made an effort, hadn’t I?

Tried to be cordial, tried to form some kind of bridge between us for Seb’s sake. But Kito always made it clear he didn’t want that.

An hour crawled by before Seb finally appeared.

"You can head home now," he stated nonchalantly, his tone lacking any warmth. “I need to stay and finalize a deal.”

I started to speak, but my voice faltered as I noticed where his gaze had wandered—to a woman in a seductive red dress positioned on the other side of the room. The woman smiled, a gradual, intentional curve of her lips, and Seb's eyes stayed fixed.

I felt my stomach drop. I’d suspected Seb of having mistresses before, but this… this was blatant.

“Of course,” I said, my voice hollow. I began to leave, my hand firmly holding onto my clutch.

When I got to the door, I looked back over my shoulder. Seb was already crossing the room, the woman in red awaiting him like a cat ready to leap.

Embarrassment burned through me. I was about to turn away when my gaze collided with Kito’s. He was standing near a corner, his piercing blue eyes fixed on me. His expression was unreadable, his handsome features as hard as stone.

For a brief instant, neither of us budged. Then, without a hint of feeling, Kito turned his back.

I gulped and stepped out the door, leaving behind the night—and the embarrassment.

———————-

I awoke to the gentle light of the sun filtering through the drapes. The occurrences of last night lingered in my mind, but I set them aside and proceeded with my morning skincare regimen. Clad in a silk bathrobe, I descended the stairs for breakfast.

In the dining room, Seb was already positioned at the head of the table, his regular place. He was browsing his iPad with a steaming cup of coffee next to him. His phone rested screen-up on the table, illuminating with a new alert.

I halted as I sat facing him, my gaze catching a glimpse of the message before I could stop myself:

Last night was amazing, looking forward to seeing you again this evening. Will send some nudes to spice up your day. Don't forget to get me that Birkin! xx.

I swallowed hard and swiftly looked away, managing my facial expression.

"Good morning," I replied gently, managing a smile.

“Morning,” he muttered, his voice indifferent as he kept scrolling.

The server set a plate of scrambled eggs and toast before me, and I grabbed my fork, even though my hunger had disappeared. The space was quiet with the sound of cutlery clinking and Seb’s sporadic phone notifications buzzing.

After finishing his breakfast, Seb cleaned his mouth with a napkin and signaled to a nearby server. The man moved ahead, setting a smooth leather portfolio in front of me.

“What’s this?” I asked, my brow furrowing as I looked at the file.

Seb leaned back in his chair, his gaze finally meeting mine, but it was cold and detached. “Open it.”

Hesitantly, I opened the file. The title in bold ‘Divorce Agreement’ stared back at me. My stomach knotted.

"What is this?" I whispered.

Seb exhaled, as if the conversation was an inconvenience. "This marriage hasn't turned out to be as advantageous as I expected. It's not beneficial for both of us. You can choose to do anything you wish now. Just sign it.”

I gazed at him, my heart constricting.

I stared at him, my chest tightening. “Seb, are you serious? After seven years…”

He shrugged, his expression indifferent. “It’s better this way. No point dragging it out.”

I held the file, my hand shaking. "You have already signed it?" I asked.

"Mhm," he replied, taking a pen from his pocket and setting it on the table in front of me. “Sign it, Renee.”

I wished to object, to struggle, but the words faded in my throat. What was there to fight for? A man who barely acknowledged me? A marriage that had become a hollow shell?

I averted my eyes, fighting back tears, and grabbed the pen. My hand trembled as I scribbled my name on the dotted line.

Seb took the file, nodded as if this were a simple business transaction, and stood. "You have 48 hours to relocate."

With that, he pivoted on his heel and exited the house, the noise of the front door shutting behind him reverberating in the heavy silence.

I remained motionless, staring at the seat he had just left.

RENEE.

I rose early the following morning, the gentle light of dawn streaming through the flimsy curtains of the room, that was no longer mine anymore. The atmosphere was thick, making my chest feel even more constricted as I thought about my next step. I prepared myself and spent the majority of the day walking through streets, checking out apartment listings. By late afternoon, I had secured a lease for a comfortable, though simple, one-bedroom apartment. It wasn't a lot, but it would suffice.

The following morning, Seb's movers arrived promptly, bringing along the few items I had chosen to keep. There wasn't much: a tiny box of photo albums I had saved, some clothes, and a handful of mementos from a life I had largely moved on from. The movers operated quickly, transporting my belongings into the new apartment. Once they were done, one of them came up to me holding an envelope.

"Miss, this is from Mr. Ford," he said, offering it to me.

"Thank you," I said with a forced smile, yet my voice sounded dull. Strangely at ease, strangely anxious, I observed the two movers leave, shutting the door behind them to finally be alone in my new apartment for the first time.

Intrigued, I ripped open the envelope and took out a cheque booklet. My breath became stuck in my throat.

"This…this doesn't seem right," I murmured. The figure written on the cheque was an affront. Nowhere close to what we had agreed on.

Frustration surged as I picked up my phone and called Seb’s number. The call received no response. I attempted once more, and then again, but every time, it went directly to voicemail. I clutched the phone more firmly as a surge of helplessness engulfed me.

“Bastard,” I muttered quietly.

Not able to contact him, I stuffed the cheque booklet into a drawer and chose to occupy myself by unpacking. The tiny apartment gradually started to come together, although the process was long and exhausting.

It was late in the evening when my phone vibrated. Seb’s name appeared on the screen, and I picked up right away, my tone cutting.

"What the heck, Seb? That cheque—”

"Calm down, Renee," he cut in, his voice as smooth and patronizing as usual. "I will explain all the details. My chauffeur is downstairs, waiting for you. He will bring you to me. I have something to offer you."

"What might you possibly—"

"Just come here," he interrupted me once more. The call disconnected before I could argue more.

My gut told me to stay put, but my curiosity—and a residual anger—drove me to put on my coat and make my way downstairs. The dark town car was awaiting. The driver, a serious-looking man in his fifties, acknowledged me with a nod as I got into the backseat.

The journey was brief, yet it felt laden with suspense. I sat rigidly, my hands balled into fists in her lap. I held my breath as the car finally halted; I looked out the window to see our location. I noticed the structure we had parked in front of and…

My stomach dropped.

Westbridge Theatre.

I hadn't returned here in all this time, but seeing it felt like a stab to the stomach. What was once a magnificent facade now stands as a mere shadow of its former glory, its exterior damaged and worn. The marquee was in disarray, featuring letters that had previously illuminated the titles of sold-out performances.

This theater was my family’s. The location that was the center of my youth. Seb had snatched it from me, just like he had taken everything else.

The driver unlocked the door, and I got out, my breath apparent in the chilly night air. Seb was standing close to the entrance, his figure lit up by a nearby streetlight. He appeared entirely as the formidable businessman he had always been, his perfectly tailored coat fitted expertly, his expression inscrutable.

"You have quite a lot of nerve," I remarked as I got closer to him, my voice shaking with rage.

Seb grinned, unfazed by my frustration. Silently, he presented me with a group of keys and a bulky envelope.

"What does this mean?" I questioned warily, gazing at the objects.

"Your final severance present," he responded nonchalantly.

I paused before accepting them. I unsealed the envelope, my eyes growing large as I retrieved a collection of papers.

“The deeds,” Seb replied, addressing my silent question. "Westbridge belongs to you once more. Well done."

My heart missed a beat. For a brief instant, I was unable to talk.

"Are you returning it?" I finally forced out.

Seb’s grin faded, and his eyes moved to the dilapidated structure. “It’s practically useless now. I have no reason to keep it and it’s a weight I no longer wish to bear. Think of it as...closure."

I glared at him in disbelief, feelings swirling within, confusion and fury. He had allowed my family's theater to decay and was returning it to me? Pretending to be a kind-hearted king? However, I then remembered the check.

"What is this separation fee?" I hissed, gripping the envelope firmly. "That payment was far from what we agreed to."

Seb's smirk returned, but this time it was more intense and frigid.

"Did you check the agreement prior to signing it?" he inquired, his voice laden with sarcasm.

I felt a drop in my stomach.

I parted my lips, yet no sound emerged. Because I hadn't gone through it. I had been overwhelmed by my feelings, too pained and eager to end it all quickly .

"No," I replied just above a whisper.

Seb's chuckle was soft and malicious. "Well, that’s on your head, isn't it?"

The burden of my error crashed into me like a freight train. Before I had the chance to reply, a piercing noise sliced through the air.

Boom!

I recoiled as a bullet zipped by Seb’s ear, lodging itself in the wall behind him.

“What the bloo—” Seb turned around quickly, his eyes wide open.

A choked cry caught our attention. The driver, who had been close to the vehicle, collapsed to the floor, with blood gathering underneath him.

My cry became lodged in my throat as I pivoted, my heart racing. Suddenly, time slowed down while chaos broke out all around me.

RENEE.

Another shot zipped through the air, and I cried out as I tumbled onto the pavement, the loud crack echoing in my ears. My heart raced like a drum, my hands trembling as I pressed myself against the frigid ground.

Seb muttered a curse quietly, his tone tense and anxious. "Stay put!" he snarled, but before I could reply, he dashed toward the car.

"Seb, wait, don't!" I yelled, my voice breaking, but it was already too late.

The subsequent bullet hit the car, and the world exploded in a blaze of fire. The power of the explosion hurled Seb backward; his body hit the ground with a nauseating thud. Instinctively, I raised my arms above my head as a shield against the intense heat and fragments of rubble.

“Seb!” I sobbed, inching closer to him. My hands brushed against the uneven asphalt, my breathing faltering as I approached his still body. His head was hurt, red liquid running down his face and gathering below him.

“Oh God, oh God,” I murmured, my voice trembling. My hands lingered above him, uncertain of the next move. “Seb, get up!”

His eyes blinked open, and he moaned, spitting out blood. “Renee…”

I didn’t allow him to complete his sentence. Drawing on my inner strength, I slid my arms under his and lifted him to his feet. "We’ve got to keep moving. Now.”

We wobbled along the street, my body shaking beneath his burden. My thoughts were a chaotic storm of fear, repetitively fixating on one horrifying mantra: Oh God, I'm about to die. We are all going to die.

Additional bullets zipped by, with one hitting the wall just inches away from my head. I shouted, bending down reflexively. “They're still coming!” Tears fell as my voice faltered.

Seb coughed up blood, his breaths uneven. “Please… don’t go,” he breathed, his hold on my arm growing firmer.

“Ow! I’m not, you jerk,” I retorted, although terror nearly suffocated me. “But, we have to take cover.”

Noticing a garbage bin in an adjacent alley, I pulled him in that direction. We fell back against it, breathing heavily and shaking as the shooting went on.

"This is crazy," I whispered, leaning my back against the icy metal. My arm throbbed, and upon glancing down, I saw a bullet had skimmed past me. Blood oozed through the material of my sleeve.

Seb’s gaze darted to my injury, a moment of panic crossing his face before he regained his composure. "We have to keep going," he stated, though his tone was weak.

"Go to Where?" I screamed, my voice rising in pitch. "They're all around us! We're stuck!"

Seb seized my wrist, maintaining his grip firmly even with the injuries. "Pay attention to me. You have no option. If we remain here, we're doomed."

I gulped nervously; my throat felt parched. He was correct. Although I despised him at this time, I wasn't prepared to die.

We emerged from the alley, our movements shaky yet rushed. The bullets trailed us, one scraping my arm once more. I stifled a scream, tears welling up in my eyes.

"Keep moving!" Seb gritted out, his voice tense.

We turned onto a different street, but the scene that awaited us sent chills down my spine. A team of masked people blocked our way, dressed in black and wielding firearms. Although their faces were hidden, their purpose was evident.

“Halt," one of them commanded, their tone low and authoritative.

We stopped. Gradually, Seb lifted his hands, a look of calculation on his face. "What is it that you want, huh? Money? Power? Name your fucking price, and I'll provide it to you."

At this moment, the group's leader slowly advanced, their weapon still aimed at Seb. “Come forward, Ford,” they snarled. "We're not here to discuss."

I shivered, my anxiety rising as I looked at Seb. He appeared unsettlingly composed, his thoughts evidently racing to find an escape.

“Seb,” I murmured, my voice trembling. “What are you up to?”

Suddenly, Seb faced me. Before I had a chance to respond, his hand lunged forward, seizing me by the neck.

I inhaled sharply, my hands shooting up to grasp at his hold. “Seb, stop!” I gasped for breath.

He pulled me before him, using me as a human shield. "Go on then," he sneered at the masked shapes, his tone icy and derisive. "Fucking shoot at me. However, just know you’ll be taking the chance of striking her too."

My heart shattered in half from the betrayal, with tears streaming down my cheeks. "You foolish son of a bitch," I whispered, my voice hardly perceptible.

"Be quiet," he hissed into my ear.

The commander growled, his weapon steady. "Let her leave, Ford. This doesn't concern her."

Seb's hold became firmer for a brief instant, then gradually, he let go of me. I staggered forward, gripping my neck and struggling to breathe.

Seb took a step back, his hands lifted in feigned surrender. “Alright,” he replied, a malicious grin pulling at his mouth. “Do you want me? Here I stand.”

Before anyone had a chance to respond, he turned on his heel and dashed away.

“Seb, you fucking chicken!” I called out to him, but he had already left.

A gunshot echoed, and I automatically crouched. The bullet veered off to the side, narrowly missing me by inches.

The group paused, with a few of them splitting off to pursue Seb. I stepped back, my legs shaking. My eyesight became hazy as fear took over. I stumbled, collapsing to the floor with a yelp.

A shadow cast itself over me.

“Please, no!” I pleaded, lifting my hands in a hopeless effort to protect myself.

Powerful hands clutched my shoulders, and I yelped in alarm. My gaze met striking blue eyes, surrounded by a face partially concealed by a mask. There was something about those eyes that resonated deeply within me.

"Kito?" I instinctively whispered, my voice hardly heard.

The blue eyes grew larger in surprise. A voice, gruff and deep, softly muttered a curse. " Fuck."

The hands let go of me suddenly, and the figure withdrew.

"Go home," he snarled, his voice allowing no chance for debate.

Before I had a chance to reply, he turned and vanished into the darkness, leaving me alone in the center of the empty alley.