Diego sat back in his executive swivel chair, a small cup of coffee in his hand. His professional attire was a perfect contrast to the warmth of his triumphant grin. The sun poured in through the window walls, casting golden light over the rich wood and steel accents of the room. The television in his sleek office played the breaking news on every major channel. The headlines blared across the screen: "Corporate Scandal: Freya July Sells Major Stake in Dexus Innovations to Rival Competitor!" The accompanying footage showed reporters scrambling outside Desmond's towering headquarters, desperate for a comment, while stock market analysts discussed the fallout of Freya's calculated move.Diego took a tiny sip of the warm liquid in his mug, his eyes glued to the TV, as if savoring every word the reporters said."...a shocking betrayal by Freya July, Desmond's wife, who has sold a substantial portion of her shares to RavenTech Industries, one of Dexus Innovations’ fiercest competitors," t
Desmond sat alone in his dimly lit study, the amber glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the mahogany furniture. The air reeked of whiskey and regret. His hand trembled as he brought the glass to his lips, but the drink did little to dull the bitter thoughts swirling in his mind. He leaned back in the leather armchair, his eyes drifting shut. Freya. Her name alone sent a wave of anger coursing through his veins. His jaw tightened as he replayed the events of the past months in his mind. It was certain that Freya’s schemes had been meticulously calculated and set into motion long before she returned to his house. She couldn't have possibly just woken up one day and chosen violence. Who knew what had been going through her head for months now?She had walked back into his life as someone hardened, vengeful, and utterly fearless, not as the meek woman he had once controlled. He swirled the whiskey in his glass, watching the golden liquid catch the light. The burn of alcoh
“Evening, husband.”Freya's voice was thick with sarcasm, and her lips curved into a smirk. Without giving Desmond a chance to speak, she stepped into the room, her gaze sweeping over the mess he had made.The acrid stench of whiskey flooded her senses, making her grimace in disgust. She turned away, scrunching up her nose to fight the nausea it triggered. “What's that smell?” she mumbled, her face contorted with displeasure.Desmond fixed her with a deadly stare, his eyes blazing with unrestrained rage. “Why are you here?” he spat, leaning forward.Freya stared hard at the shattered pieces of glass, infused into the nasty pool of golden liquid on the floor. Her brows furrowed in a frown, and she shook her head in pity."Really, Desmond?" she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Breaking bottles and shouting at doors? How…predictable."Desmond’s eyes darkened, his rage momentarily stunned into silence by the audacity of her presence. He watched as she walked further into the
9:32 PMThe hum of the engine was the only sound breaking the silence inside Freya’s car. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white as she stared through the windshield. Outside, the city lights shimmered, coupled with the lights coming from the inside of Desmond's office building, casting a pale glow over the darkened streets. The building loomed tall and ominous in Freya's rearview mirror, its shadow stretching across the pavement like a veil.Freya’s heart hammered against her chest as she adjusted her rearview mirror to get a better view of Desmond's movements. She had been waiting patiently for him to retire home, watching him closely in order to decide her next course of action.Just then, she saw him exit the building, his silhouette sharp under the yellow glow of the streetlights. He walked with the same arrogance she despised so much, his leather shoes clicking against the pavement. He was on the phone, his voice muffled but animated, likely barking or
Desmond looked away, inwardly battling with indecision—whether to believe her or not. He took a deep breath, his mind racing.On the other hand, Freya watched him closely, her gaze unwavering. His tired eyes spoke volumes about his intoxicated state. He was getting tipsier than before. And it was time to act.Freya tilted her head, her lips curving into a soft, understanding smile. “I know you're overwhelmed and can't seem to believe me. And that's understandable. I've practically ruined your life,” Freya said softly, her eyes locked onto his. She paused briefly, allowing her words to sink in. Then she let out a deep sigh and went on. “But people change, Desmond. You claimed you were a changed man, right? So why can't I claim I'm a changed woman as well?” Her voice was low and soft, but a hint of sarcasm was hidden in it.Desmond stared hard at her, reflecting on her words. His expression was a softer version of the skeptical mask he wore. And Freya smiled inwardly, realizing he was
A dull persistent throb pulsed behind Desmond's eyes as he stirred from unconsciousness. His body felt heavy, weighted down by something tight and unyielding. There was a pressure against his wrists, his shoulders aching from an unnatural position.The first thing he noticed was the cold. It seeped into his skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of unconsciousness. He inhaled sharply, only to be met with the pungent smell of damp concrete, rusted metal, and oil lingering thick in the air.A faint dripping sound echoed somewhere in the distance, rhythmic and taunting. His senses sharpened, but his mind was sluggish, still clawing its way out of the haze.With effort, Desmond's eyelids fluttered open, his gaze unfocused at first. The dim light hanging overhead burned his retina, making him squint.The world was blurred at first, shifting between shadow and light. After a few seconds, he began to get a clearer picture of his surroundings.The space around him stretched wide and empty, the
Desmond went still. He stared down the barrel of the gun, his breath coming hard and fast. The metallic scent of the warehouse mixed with the faint oiliness of the weapon, the cold steel mere inches from his forehead.Freya's eyes pierced deep into his soul, her hand steady, unwavering. Her expression was sterner than before, her jaw stiff with determination. There wasn’t a hint of hesitation in her stance, not a flicker of doubt in her eyes. She didn't seem angry. She was unnervingly calm, and that was what unsettled Desmond.For the first time since this confrontation began, he felt something creeping into his chest, something foreign—fear.She meant it. This wasn't a bluff.Freya raised a brow slightly, her voice smooth, almost bored as she spoke.“Why don't you spare your life and sign these?” she mused, nodding towards the divorce papers beside him. “Losing your life while I still get the separation I need to move on is gonna be a win-win for me.”Desmond swallowed hard, his Ada
Diego stopped a few feet away, tilting his head. A sly smile was plastered on his face, and he locked hands with Freya, who mirrored his smile."Well, well," he mused, his voice laced with satisfaction. "What do we have here?”In unison, Freya and Diego laughed, deliberately jeering at Desmond. Diego shook his head, reveling in Desmond's misery.“We finally meet again. After a long while”, he went on, his grip on Freya's hand tightening possessively. “But this time, I'm the one laughing and you…whatever this is.” He shoved his hands in the air, making mocking gestures at Desmond, while staring at him in a condescending manner. Desmond's face was contorted with rage, but he said nothing.“I have to say, Desmond—I never thought I’d see the day," Diego added.Desmond’s fists clenched, his eyes blazing with hatred and rage. He couldn't take the insults anymore. Enough was enough. "You son of a…""Careful," Diego cut in smoothly, a vicious glint in his eyes. "You're not exactly in a posit
The news broke early in the morning:“Former billionaire Desmond July found dead in prison cell. Apparent suicide.”The headlines spread like wildfire. News channels, social media, newspapers—every platform covered the scandalous downfall of the once-mighty mogul. Analysts speculated, reporters dissected every detail, and the public debated whether justice had been truly served.But inside Diego and Freya’s home, the atmosphere was different. The television was on, but neither of them paid it much attention.Freya sat at the dining table, sipping her morning coffee, while Diego leaned against the counter, scrolling through his phone with a lazy smirk.Noah, dressed in his school uniform, glanced between them, his brows furrowing.“So…Desmond’s really dead,” he muttered, pushing his cereal bowl aside.Neither Freya nor Diego reacted much. Freya merely took another sip of coffee, setting the mug down with a soft clink. “Looks like he finally ran out of ways to escape his consequences,”
5:25 PMThe air in Diego’s office was thick with the usual tension of high-stakes business negotiations.Diego was seated at the head of a long, polished table, in the middle of a board meeting. He exuded his signature confidence—sharp, composed, commanding.The only sound was the soft hum of the projector and the murmured discussions of Diego's business associates. Diego's eyes were fixed intently on the presentation unfolding before him.His executives and business associates sat around him, discussing projections, acquisitions, and expansions for his green-energy empire. The meeting was important, the kind that could shape the future of his company.Yet, his mind was elsewhere.On her.Diego stole a glance at his phone, an itch in his chest growing with every passing minute.It had been hours since he had last spoken to Freya. And he missed her. His mind was fixed on the upcoming weekend and the plans he had with Freya.Just as he shifted in his seat, imagining a steamy night with
6:30 AMThe loud, shrill ringing of Freya’s phone shattered the peaceful silence of the morning.Her brows furrowed in confusion as she blindly reached for it on her nightstand. She squinted her eyes against the faint morning light streaming in from a small opening in the window.Her gaze came to a focus on the phone screen, and the number flashing on the screen made her blink. It was Diego’s chief of security.Immediately, she sat up and snapped out of the sleepy haze. A sudden, terrible feeling clawed at her chest as she quickly answered the call. Diego's chief of security only called when there was bad news about Diego.“Hello?” she breathed, sweeping her disheveled hair backwards.“Ms. Freya,” the man’s voice came through, urgent, tense. “It’s Diego. He…he got into a car accident. You need to come now.”The world stopped the minute he dropped the bomb. Freya's heart slammed against her ribs, and her blood ran cold.No. Not again.Her hands shook as she scrambled out of bed, barely
The living room was filled with a golden glow from the television screen. The breaking news banner flashed across the bottom, repeating the same phrase over and over:DESMOND JULY ARRESTED IN SCANDAL—ABUSE, ATTEMPTED MURDER, AND KIDNAPPING EXPOSED.The anchor spoke with a serious, almost incredulous tone. "In a shocking turn of events, billionaire Desmond July, former CEO of Dexus Innovations, has been arrested and is facing a long list of charges, including domestic violence, child endangerment, and attempted murder. The once-revered businessman was taken into custody last night after damning footage of his crimes was broadcast at his own celebratory gala, exposing years of abuse toward his ex-wife, Freya Dominic, and their son, Noah Dominic. Legal experts predict that with the overwhelming evidence, July could face life in prison with no chance of parole…”The remote slipped from Freya’s fingers and landed on the couch beside her. Her heart pounded as she stared at the screen, her m
Freya walked into the room with a quiet sense of power, her presence commanding attention.She was dressed in a crimson gown— a deep, bold, unapologetic dress that clung to her like molten lava. Every step she took was slow, deliberate, and commanding. And her presence was undeniable.She dressed to fit into the context. After all, this was a grand gala filled with elites from all over the world.However, it wasn’t her dress that stole the breath from every mouth in the room. It was the bruises. The dark, undeniable marks which decorated her arms and cheek. Marks of war.And she made no attempt to hide them. Her dress was sleeveless, and she wore no makeup. She wanted the world to see it clearly.In an instant, camera flashes erupted around her. Paparazzi swarmed forward, fighting to capture the moment, the scandal, the face of a woman wronged.Desmond’s chest tightened as he watched the unfolding drama. His stomach twisted. His body screamed at him to move, to run. But he couldn’t.H
The Dexus Innovations' Tower stood like a beacon of power, piercing the night sky with its gleaming lights. Tonight, the heart of the city pulsed with anticipation. An event unlike any other was about to unfold in the building’s grand ballroom—an affair so spectacular that the world was watching.A scarlet carpet stretched from the main entrance, lined with golden railings and uniformed security. Photographers stood at the sidelines, cameras flashing as an endless parade of luxury cars arrived, their sleek bodies gleaming under the streetlights and the golden glow from within the ballroom.Chauffeurs in crisp suits opened doors with precise elegance, allowing their distinguished passengers to step onto the crimson carpet that stretched into the opulent ballroom.The guest list was nothing short of extraordinary. Billionaires, Hollywood elites, influential tech moguls, and political heavyweights—all gathered under one roof. Their tailored suits and designer gowns shimmered under the li
The air in Freya’s secluded apartment was thick with silence. It was the kind of silence that wasn’t peaceful but restless, filled with thoughts that refused to settle.She sat curled up on the small couch, her fingers gripping a warm mug of tea she hadn’t even touched. Her body ached, remnants of the brutal night in the warehouse still lingering in bruises and sore muscles. But the worst pain wasn’t physical—it was the gnawing fear, the unease that refused to leave her.She had vanished temporarily, making only scarce appearances for days. She didn't let Noah go to school without heavily armed escorts. She and Diego made sure to be armed and guarded wherever they were going.After the chaos in the warehouse, the fear of what Desmond might do next consumed her. He was wounded, humiliated, but far from finished—and she knew that meant danger.She couldn’t risk being found. Not yet. She needed to devise a brilliant plan before resurfacing in public. She had to make Desmond's downfall ve
Diego stood over Desmond, his jaw clenched with controlled fury. The bastard in front of him was already bleeding, his face pale from blood loss, but Diego didn’t care. Not after what he had done. Not after the torment he had put his loved ones through. It was only right that he put an end to their problems by pulling one trigger.“Desmond Hugo July. You don't have much time left. Still got something to say?” Diego asked, his grip tightening around the gun.Desmond shook his head, his lips curling in disdain. “You're not scary, Diego. Stop this nonsense,” he snarled, his face contorted in a scowl.Before Desmond could think, Diego darted toward him and grabbed him by the collar, yanking him up. Violently, he slammed him against the cold concrete wall. Desmond grunted in pain, his wounded arm nearly giving out under the pressure. Diego didn't spare him the chance to recover, his fist pounded Desmond's face twice with relentless fury.He grasped Desmond's collar tightly, firmly pinning
The dark warehouse felt suffocating as Desmond’s rage filled the air. He moved toward Freya, his eyes burning with intense resentment. Each step he took echoed through the warehouse, fueling his fury.He had expected Freya to recoil in fear, as he was now the one who called the shots. However, Freya didn't move. She fixed him with a deadly stare, her expression unyielding.“Let me warn you, Freya, just in case you've forgotten. I have your life in my hands at this point. Your life depends on me. So if you think being stubborn is gonna save you, I'll remind you why you had feared me for many years.”Freya stared hard at Desmond for a few seconds, shaking her head in disbelief. Then she let out a short, scornful chuckle, tilting her head back.Noah watched silently, swallowing hard to suppress the fear swirling within him. His eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, his hands trembling.Desmond let out an angry snort, his face hot with rage. The audacity of Freya to laugh in a situation like t