Chapter 3

Elisa POV:

Joette' s stare felt like a physical weight, pressing down on me, dissecting me. Her eyes narrowed, lingering on my face for what felt like an eternity. A cold, calculating smile slowly spread across her lips. It wasn't a smile of amusement, but of contempt.

"You ungrateful little wretch," she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "After all we've done for you, this is how you repay us? Very well. You want your freedom? You can have it. But don't expect a single penny from us. You'll leave with nothing but the clothes on your back. The divorce papers will be finalized and delivered by tomorrow noon. Consider yourself banished from this family, from this city. And if you ever dare to breathe a word of this... unpleasantness... to anyone, you will regret it more than you can possibly imagine."

She snatched a thick envelope from her purse and flung it at me. It landed with a soft thud on the bed, just missing my face. I flinched, but quickly picked it up, my fingers trembling slightly. It was a pre-signed nullification of our ironclad prenuptial agreement, prepared in anticipation of my 'problem.'

I traced the elegant script, the words blurring through the sudden rush of tears. Tears of relief, tears of pain, tears for the life I had lost and the life I was about to gain. I took a deep, shaky breath, letting the clean, sterile air fill my lungs. Freedom. It was a bitter taste, but it was mine. I would survive this. I would build a new future, far away from the Donovans.

Just then, the door burst open. Kiyoshi stood there, his hair disheveled, his eyes wild. He snatched my phone from the bedside table. "What the hell is going on, Elisa? Why didn't you answer my calls? Why is Grandmother here?" He glanced briefly at the divorce papers in my hand, then back at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and something I couldn't quite decipher. "Are you milking this little incident for sympathy? Do you think a miscarriage will make me soft? Is that your game, Elisa?"

He stood there, still in the tailored suit from last night's party, his tie loosened, a faint smudge of lipstick on his collar. His face was a mask of disdain, his eyes sweeping over my hospital gown, my pale face, my bandaged wrist. Heidi Ray, dressed in a flimsy silk robe, peeked from behind him, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Oh, look who's finally decided to show her face," Heidi purred, stepping out from behind Kiyoshi. "Still trying to cling to him, are we? Honestly, Elisa, what do you have left to offer? You're damaged goods now, aren't you? No child, no future. Just a bitter, barren woman. Kiyoshi needs an heir, not a ghost."

I felt a strange sense of detachment. Their words, designed to wound, barely registered. I had seen countless women like Heidi in Kiyoshi's life. They came and went, each one a fleeting distraction, a prop in his elaborate charade of disdain. They were all so eager, so confident that they would be the one to finally tame the wild Donovan heir. I wondered, with a morbid curiosity, if Heidi truly believed she would be the next Mrs. Donovan.

"Are you going to marry her, Kiyoshi?" I asked, my voice calm, almost conversational. The question hung in the air, a subtle challenge.

Kiyoshi's movements faltered. His hand, still clutching my phone, froze mid-air. He turned to me, a peculiar expression on his face. Then, a slow, mocking smile spread across his lips. "Marry her? Darling, don't be ridiculous. You are my wife. And you will always be my wife. Remember our vows, Elisa? 'Till death do us part.' You're stuck with me."

I remembered our vows. I remembered the depth of his eyes, the sincerity in his voice, the weight of his promises. He had sworn to cherish me, to protect me, to love me until his last breath. Now, his words were a cruel parody of those sacred promises. I could feel the malice radiating from him, a chilling wave washing over me. He wasn't trying to reconcile. He was trying to inflict pain, to break me all over again.

"You can't say you don't love me," he whispered, his eyes narrowing, searching mine for a flicker of the old devotion. "Not after everything we've been through. Not after all your sacrifices, your endless devotion. You love me, Elisa. You're just trying to punish me."

I met his gaze, my own eyes clear and devoid of any emotion he could recognize. I had spent years dissecting his every word, every look, searching for the love I once believed in. Now, I saw only the twisted reflection of his own pain, his own bitterness. A single, misspoken word, a lie carefully planted by his grandmother, had festered and poisoned everything. It had turned his love into a weapon, wielded against me for years. It was a cruel irony, a brutal joke played by fate.

"I don't love you, Kiyoshi," I stated, my voice flat, final, leaving no room for doubt. "Not anymore."