I'd pictured a thousand ways Fabian might react.

But I never saw this coming—he stormed in, ripped the urn out of my arms, and smashed it to the floor.

"Stella Cantemir, seriously? Just 'cause I went to check on Roxana, you and Luca ghosted my hometown? Then you lie about Luca dying and fire Roxana? Is ruining everyone's life your full-time job now?"

I just stood there, frozen, staring at the ashes scattered across the floor. The urn was cracked.

My brain short-circuited.

"Luca... Luca... does it still hurt?"

I dropped to my knees, shaking, trying to scoop his ashes back into the broken urn, one trembling handful at a time.

Then Fabian snatched it out of my hands.

"Still pretending? You live for the drama, huh?"

He turned, heading for the bathroom.

"What are you doing? Give it back!"

I ran after him, but he shoved me aside.

"Stella Cantemir, Luca wasn't just your son. I let it go every time you used him to chase attention. But now you're faking his death? You make me sick."

He lifted the toilet lid.

My heart dropped. "No! Fabian, that WAS Luca—"

Before I could finish, he flushed.

Then he looked at me, cold. "I'm bringing Roxana back to the company. Hurt her again, and I'll divorce you on the spot."

Roxana called. He answered like she was the one grieving.

"Don't cry. I'll be right there. I won't let anyone touch you."

Then he left. Didn't even glance back.

I hit the floor.

"Ahhh!"

Screamed until my throat gave out, beating my chest like it could stop the ache.

What did Luca ever do wrong?

He died torn up and bleeding. Now even his ashes were gone.

I cried until I blacked out. Burned up with fever. They rushed me to the ER.

People came. Family. Friends.

My best friend, Cece, wrapped her arms around me, sobbing.

"Stella, please. Hang in there. Luca wouldn't want this."

"Cece, I can't... I just can't."

"I know. But the ones who should be suffering are that cheating pair. Not you."

***

I was stuck in the hospital for two weeks, running on zero sleep.

Roxana kept blowing up my phone—nasty messages she'd delete right after.

[That little brat deserved to die.]

[Why didn't you die with him?]

[While you were bawling over that mutt's body, Fabian and I were screwing in the car.]

Every time I shut my eyes, I saw Luca—bloody, broken, screaming.

And Fabian? Laughing with her.

Some friends finally snapped and called Fabian.

He didn't bother showing up—just called.

"My mom wants to see Luca. Quit the drama and bring him over."

"Luca's dead. If she's that desperate, she can go die too. They'll meet up just fine."

"Stella! You're losing it! Keep that up and maybe you'll curse him for real. See how you like that!"

He hung up, pissed.

Never once showed. Never even checked if it was true.

I used to feel broken. Now? Just hollow and pissed.

I hated Roxana for tearing up my marriage. Hated Fabian more for letting her hurt me and Luca again and again.

This marriage should've been over ages ago.

I had a lawyer draw up the divorce papers—was gonna hand them to Fabian the second I got out.

But then my assistant called, totally freaking out.

"Ms. Cantemir, it's bad. Your AI project—the one you led—it got pushed into client meetings early... and Roxana Petrescu from the secretarial team took your place as lead."

My brain short-circuited. I shoved the divorce papers in my bag and bolted to the office.

Didn't even get past the gate.

Fabian was there with security, blocking me.

"Stella, Roxana's already handling the meetings. Don't make a scene."

I stared him down. "I'm causing a scene? Fabian, I built that project from nothing. What gives Roxana the right to take over?"

"You hurt her. Think of this as making it up to her."

I laughed—cold. "You're unbelievable. You two let my son die. I haven't even come for you yet, and now you're stealing my work? Do you even have a soul?"

You were the one who proposed.

You promised a family. A life.

And now, you've turned everything into a nightmare.

What did I ever do to deserve this?

But Fabian looked even more pissed. "Lied straight to my face!

"I told you Roxana was like a sister, and you still spread rumors she was my mistress and killed our kid. Ever think how that made her feel?

"You cursed your own son at Christmas—how sick is that?"

Why would I ever joke about my child dying?

I was shaking. Couldn't even speak. Just yanked the death certificate and cremation report from my bag and flung them at him.

"You still don't believe me? Wanna swing by the police station and check for yourself?"

Fabian's friend Ivan walked up.

"It's true, man. Everything she said. My sister prepped Luca's body... said it was covered in wounds. The bleeding wouldn't stop. He suffered. Bad."

Fabian's hands shook as he picked up the papers.

He stared at them, all the anger leaking out of his face—just raw pain left behind.

When he looked at me again, his eyes were drowning in it.