chapter2

Elysia was on the brink of total despair. Her life felt like a relentless cycle of misfortune, but as she clutched the phone, she realized she had no right to refuse the divorce.

I have lost everything, she thought bitterly. I am no longer worthy of being his wife.

“I understand,” Elysia whispered, her voice hoarse and broken. “I’ll come home and sign the papers immediately.”

Fighting through her physical exhaustion and the heavy weight in her chest, she dressed with trembling hands and stumbled out of the terminal, disappearing into the crowded streets just as the world shifted around the airport.

No sooner had she vanished than a fleet of sleek black limousines swept toward the entrance. A troop of suited bodyguards emerged, forming a silent, impenetrable perimeter. The assistant stepped forward, opening the door with practiced reverence as Tarquin Bradford stepped out.

Exorbitantly priced bespoke tailoring, handcrafted leather shoes, and the cold glint of a limited-edition watch—Tarquin was the literal definition of power. His superior stature and striking features exuded an air of unattainable nobility, drawing the gaze of every onlooker, though none dared to breathe in his presence. He moved through the terminal with a regal authority, a man to be admired from a distance but never approached.

His mind was elsewhere. The previous night, he had been cornered by enemies after a compromised meal. In a moment of sheer desperation and clouded judgment, he had taken a young woman’s innocence in a dark corner of the airport lounge.

He had left in a hurry, fearing his pursuers would find her and use her against him. Now that the danger had been eliminated, he had returned to find her. He had made a promise in the heat of the night—a promise to take responsibility, to make her the happiest and most honored woman in the world.

Tarquin Bradford always kept his word.

Before he could reach the lounge, his assistant, Lowell, caught up to him, looking flustered. “Tarquin, there’s been a report from the villa. Your wife has returned, but... the housekeeper claims her behavior has been scandalous during your absence. There are marks on her today that suggest she wasn't alone last night. They say she has been seen with various men and has even spoken disparagingly about you in public.”

Tarquin’s face darkened, his eyes turning into shards of ice. “What did she say?”

Lowell hesitated. “She allegedly told people in a bar that you were... beneath her. That because of your injury, you were unworthy of her.”

“Hmph!” Tarquin’s lips curled into a cold, hard line.

His wife had been a pawn imposed on him by his family two years ago to curb his influence. He had never met her, not even on their wedding day. Now that he held absolute power, he was no longer bound by their games. His first act upon returning was to initiate a divorce—not out of cruelty, but because there was no love between them. He had intended to provide her with a billion-dollar settlement to ensure her future.

But if she was a woman of no virtue and no loyalty, she deserved nothing.

“The previous settlement is void,” Tarquin commanded, his voice frigid. “Rewrite it. She has been unfaithful and has disgraced the Bradford name. She will leave with nothing but the clothes on her back.”

“Yes, sir!”

Tarquin reached the lounge door. He took a breath, straightening his tie and smoothing his jacket. He wanted to show the young woman inside his most composed, gentlemanly side. Whatever the circumstances of their meeting, he was bound to her now by honor.

He pushed the door open.

The room was empty.

His brows furrowed in sudden, sharp frustration. Gone?

“Spread the word,” Tarquin barked to his men. “Find her. Use every resource at our disposal. I don't care about the cost—bring her to me!”

He would find the woman from the lounge. He would keep his promise. Little did he know, the "unfaithful" wife he had just condemned and the woman he was now desperately hunting were the very same person.