Damian was still sitting on the couch when Alva appeared in the living room, rubbing his eyes, his steps slow and still lazy. The five-year-old boy was wearing dark blue pajamas with rockets, his hair a little messy."Mommy, big sister, who is she?" he asked innocently, pointing at Damian who immediately stood up and looked at him with a longing look.Damian looked down, kneeling down to be at Alva's level. A genuine smile was drawn on his face. "Hi, Alva... You know, I'm your Daddy."Alva was startled for a moment. She took a step back, her expression changing. "Huh? No! You're not my Daddy!" he said loudly, swatting away Damian's hand that was about to touch his shoulder."Alva..." Damian leaned closer again, his voice soft. "You're a smart boy. Daddy just wants to get to know you better. Daddy loves you...""NO!" snapped Alva, pushing Damian's body with his small hands. "I don't know you! You're not my Daddy!"Damian was silent, stunned. The look in his eyes dimmed.Alva turned qui
Damian had just opened the door to his luxurious downtown home when the sound of sobbing greeted him. The cold air from outside had not yet left his body, but in here, the heat was overwhelming-not because of the temperature, but because of the burning emotions.Isabella sat on the sofa, still wearing her blood-red satin nightgown. Her eyes were swollen, her face wet. In her hand is a picture frame of David, their son who died two years ago. Her fingers gripped it tightly, as if afraid of losing it again."David was our only son," Isabella murmured softly. "The only one you're proud of."Damian threw his coat on the chair, ignoring all the pleasantries. His voice was instantly piercing, cold. "I just got back from Elena's house. I want to get back to Elena."Isabella slowly looked up. The look in her eyes was hazy, but there were still embers there. "What do you mean, Damian?"Damian stood straight, his face without hesitation. "I want a divorce, Isabella. I'm going back to Elena. For
The sky was overcast that afternoon, as if reflecting Elena's mood. She sat in the corner of a small rustic café, her hands clutching a mug of warm coffee with a soothing aroma. The table in front of her is tidy, with a small agenda, a pen, and a dark brown tote bag. She is waiting for her new partner for a children's school interior design project. Focus. That's what she needs.The doorbell of the café chimed. Elena didn't really care, until the sound of heels and a man's firm steps approached. She turned her head briefly... and almost laughed in disbelief."Oh my God... Elena?" the voice was smooth, practiced, and fake. Margaret Lancaster, dressed in an expensive coat and a pearl brooch on her lapel, stood there with her husband, Charles, who looked older but still as haughty as ever.Elena looked up slowly. "OH, Aunt Margaret... Uncle Charles." Her tone was flat. She offered no chair, no polite smile."We didn't expect to see you here," Charles said, trying to sound friendly. "You
The café was starting to get crowded. In the corner, Elena sat across from an elegant young woman named Shera, her new partner in an exclusive jewelry design project for the summer launch."If we play on the classic concept but give it a touch of local motifs, I think it will appeal to the European market," Elena said, pointing to a sketch on her laptop.Shera nods. "I like the design lines. Clean, but still has character. And we can play with the color of the natural stone according to the season."They looked serious, immersed in a professional conversation. Until suddenly, the sound of heavy, quick steps could be heard approaching."Elena!"Elena turned her head slowly, and her body immediately stiffened when she saw Damian standing not far from their table. The man looked tired, his face not as neat as usual, but the look in his eyes was full of determination.Shera, who didn't know anything, just stared in confusion.Damian stepped in front of the table, then took a deep breath.
After the meeting with Miss Shera, which went smoothly despite Damian's chaos, Elena chose to sit for a while in a small restaurant not far from the previous cafe. The place was quiet, the music soft, and the aroma of coffee mixed with vanilla soothed her foggy mind.She sat in the corner, staring blankly out the window. Her hand stirred the jasmine tea without really intending to drink it. Her mind still returns to Damian's pleading face-the face she once fell in love with, now inviting only disgust and anger."Even if he kneels in front of the whole world," Elena thought sharply, "I won't forgive that bastard. Everything he destroyed... can't be rebuilt with a ring and a sweet promise."She took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the tightness in her chest. One thing was for sure, her life was much better without Damian. And today was just a small reminder of how far he had come."Excuse me... Elena Whitmore?"A warm baritone voice jolted her thoughts. Elena turned quickly, and her
"Darling, you are truly a gift to this family." The booming voice of Margaret Lancaster, her mother-in-law, filled the room. "At last, Damian has found a woman who can give him an heir." The smile on Elena's face slowly disappeared when she heard the voice from inside the room. She was about to give Damian—her husband of ten years—the best news of her life. Elena's hand tightly grasped the envelope containing the results of the doctor's examination. She was pregnant with her fourth child. Elena stopped in the doorway. Her eyes froze at the sight before her. A blonde woman with a perfect body was sitting gracefully on the sofa. She was so very perfect. She was Isabella Monroe. A top model who often graced fashion magazines. And now, she was sitting confidently in Elena's house, among her family. "Ah, Auntie, you're too much," Isabella laughed softly, her voice soft yet full of satisfaction. "Don't call me auntie, dear. You are now my daughter-in-law." "Right, call us Mommy and D
"Fine! We divorce, and take your three useless daughters!" Damian's voice echoed in the room, cold and heartless. Elena stood up straight, staring at Damian without a single tear on her face. Then she nodded slowly and turned away without another word. There was no point in prolonging a conversation with a man who didn't even appreciate his own flesh and blood. Her steps were quick up the stairs, heading straight for her children's rooms. Olivia, her eldest eight-year-old daughter, was reading a book on the bed. Katty, six, was playing with a doll, while Delya, the youngest at just three years old, slept soundly, her fingers still gripping the edge of her blanket. "Mommy?" Olivia looked at her mother in confusion. "Why does Mommy look angry?" Elena took a deep breath, trying to calm her emotions before speaking. "Honey, we need to get out of here right now."Katty turned her head, her eyes wide. "Leave? Where, Mom?""To a better place." Elena smiled softly, even though her hear
Elena let out a long sigh as she looked at the small apartment that would now be home to her and her three daughters. It was a far cry from the luxurious mansion she had lived in for the past ten years."This is our home now?" Olivia asked quietly, her eyes sweeping the modest room.Elena smiled, trying to look strong in front of her children. "Yes, darling. Our new home."Katty looked at her mother in confusion. "Does Daddy not want to be our Daddy anymore?" Katty's tears flowed freely, further breaking Elena's heart.However, Elena tried to smile in front of her three daughters.Delya, who still didn't understand what was happening, hugged her mother's legs tightly. "I want Daddy, Mommy."Elena squatted down, gently stroking the little one's hair. "Daddy can't be with us right now, but Mommy is always here for you, okay?"Olivia took Elena's hand, trying to encourage her mother. "It's okay, Mom. Mommy will be both mother and father to us," Olivia said.Elena smiled, holding back her
After the meeting with Miss Shera, which went smoothly despite Damian's chaos, Elena chose to sit for a while in a small restaurant not far from the previous cafe. The place was quiet, the music soft, and the aroma of coffee mixed with vanilla soothed her foggy mind.She sat in the corner, staring blankly out the window. Her hand stirred the jasmine tea without really intending to drink it. Her mind still returns to Damian's pleading face-the face she once fell in love with, now inviting only disgust and anger."Even if he kneels in front of the whole world," Elena thought sharply, "I won't forgive that bastard. Everything he destroyed... can't be rebuilt with a ring and a sweet promise."She took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the tightness in her chest. One thing was for sure, her life was much better without Damian. And today was just a small reminder of how far he had come."Excuse me... Elena Whitmore?"A warm baritone voice jolted her thoughts. Elena turned quickly, and her
The café was starting to get crowded. In the corner, Elena sat across from an elegant young woman named Shera, her new partner in an exclusive jewelry design project for the summer launch."If we play on the classic concept but give it a touch of local motifs, I think it will appeal to the European market," Elena said, pointing to a sketch on her laptop.Shera nods. "I like the design lines. Clean, but still has character. And we can play with the color of the natural stone according to the season."They looked serious, immersed in a professional conversation. Until suddenly, the sound of heavy, quick steps could be heard approaching."Elena!"Elena turned her head slowly, and her body immediately stiffened when she saw Damian standing not far from their table. The man looked tired, his face not as neat as usual, but the look in his eyes was full of determination.Shera, who didn't know anything, just stared in confusion.Damian stepped in front of the table, then took a deep breath.
The sky was overcast that afternoon, as if reflecting Elena's mood. She sat in the corner of a small rustic café, her hands clutching a mug of warm coffee with a soothing aroma. The table in front of her is tidy, with a small agenda, a pen, and a dark brown tote bag. She is waiting for her new partner for a children's school interior design project. Focus. That's what she needs.The doorbell of the café chimed. Elena didn't really care, until the sound of heels and a man's firm steps approached. She turned her head briefly... and almost laughed in disbelief."Oh my God... Elena?" the voice was smooth, practiced, and fake. Margaret Lancaster, dressed in an expensive coat and a pearl brooch on her lapel, stood there with her husband, Charles, who looked older but still as haughty as ever.Elena looked up slowly. "OH, Aunt Margaret... Uncle Charles." Her tone was flat. She offered no chair, no polite smile."We didn't expect to see you here," Charles said, trying to sound friendly. "You
Damian had just opened the door to his luxurious downtown home when the sound of sobbing greeted him. The cold air from outside had not yet left his body, but in here, the heat was overwhelming-not because of the temperature, but because of the burning emotions.Isabella sat on the sofa, still wearing her blood-red satin nightgown. Her eyes were swollen, her face wet. In her hand is a picture frame of David, their son who died two years ago. Her fingers gripped it tightly, as if afraid of losing it again."David was our only son," Isabella murmured softly. "The only one you're proud of."Damian threw his coat on the chair, ignoring all the pleasantries. His voice was instantly piercing, cold. "I just got back from Elena's house. I want to get back to Elena."Isabella slowly looked up. The look in her eyes was hazy, but there were still embers there. "What do you mean, Damian?"Damian stood straight, his face without hesitation. "I want a divorce, Isabella. I'm going back to Elena. For
Damian was still sitting on the couch when Alva appeared in the living room, rubbing his eyes, his steps slow and still lazy. The five-year-old boy was wearing dark blue pajamas with rockets, his hair a little messy."Mommy, big sister, who is she?" he asked innocently, pointing at Damian who immediately stood up and looked at him with a longing look.Damian looked down, kneeling down to be at Alva's level. A genuine smile was drawn on his face. "Hi, Alva... You know, I'm your Daddy."Alva was startled for a moment. She took a step back, her expression changing. "Huh? No! You're not my Daddy!" he said loudly, swatting away Damian's hand that was about to touch his shoulder."Alva..." Damian leaned closer again, his voice soft. "You're a smart boy. Daddy just wants to get to know you better. Daddy loves you...""NO!" snapped Alva, pushing Damian's body with his small hands. "I don't know you! You're not my Daddy!"Damian was silent, stunned. The look in his eyes dimmed.Alva turned qui
The next morning, the sky was still gray, leaving behind the residue of the previous night's rain. Damian stood in front of the old colonial-style house on the edge of town where Elena and her children lived. His hand clutched a small box filled with toys and children's books, something he had bought in the middle of the night when his heart couldn't settle.When the door opened, Elena stood in the doorway, wearing a loose gray sweater and casual pants. Her hair was tied up in a simple bun. Her eyes looked tired."Elena...," Damian began, his voice low, almost hesitant."Damian, it's early in the morning," Elena said calmly. She leaned against the door frame. "What's wrong?""I just... I wanted to see them. Olivia, Katty, and Delya," he replied, trying to smile. "If I may."Elena stared at him for a few seconds. There was no anger, but no warmth either. She nodded slowly, then opened the door wider."Come in."Damian stepped inside, the house was warm and smelled of cinnamon. He brief
Damian looked at Elena, his eyes hopeful, yet also afraid of the answer that would come out of her mouth."Elena, do I deserve a second chance?" he asked softly.Elena let out a long breath, bowing her head for a moment. The wind blew softly, carrying the scent of wet soil and jasmine flowers from the newly sown gravestone."A second chance?" repeated Elena softly. Her eyes slowly looked at Damian, deep, clear, and full of hurt."I'm sorry, Damian..." she said calmly but firmly. "There are no second chances."Damian frowned. "What do you mean?""I've been through a lot, Damian. Years of hiding who I am, raising four children on my own, enduring humiliation from your family, from your mother. And when all those wounds haven't really healed, you come asking for a chance? You have no shame! Woe!""But I'm sorry, Elena. I made a mistake back then. I was too happy when Isabella gave me a boy. If I'd known-""You hurt me even before David was born," Elena cut in sharply. "Not to mention you
Damian still sat silently on the park bench behind the crematorium. A light rain had begun to dampen his hair and shoulders, but he didn't care. His fingers still clutched David's small cross necklace.Isabella walked over, her black dress dragging a bit of wet earth. She sat silently beside Damian, looking straight up at the gray sky.A few minutes passed in silence, until Isabella finally asked softly, "Damian, are you going to divorce me after this?"Damian turned his head slowly. "What do you mean?"Isabella smiled bitterly, still staring ahead. "I've heard the viral news. Elena... she is Queen Elisabeth. She also revealed that Alva is of Lancaster descent."Damian frowned."Are you going after her?" Isabella continued, her voice low but piercing. "Because she has given birth to an heir. A son, the heir you crave."Damian stared at his wife for a long time, his face unreadable.However, instead of answering, Damian stood up. He wiped his face wet with rain and tears."I have to ge
"So, what about Mrs. Sonia? Your mother?" asked Elena quietly, looking at Nathan doubtfully. "Will she approve of us? I know... she has high standards for a woman worthy of being her daughter-in-law."Nathan smiled a little and sat down next to Elena. "You know what? I've always admired Queen Elisabeth's designer work."Elena looked at Nathan with dilated eyes. "Really?"Nathan nodded. "She didn't know you designed for the brand. But when you appeared at the press conference in a black dress of your own design, my mom immediately said, 'This Queen Elisabeth designer seems to understand the taste of noblewomen. Elegant but not pushy. She also said that you deserve to be my wife.'"Elena could hardly believe it. "But will your mother accept my four children?""Yes, my mother accepts your four children, Elena." Nathan grasped Elena's hand tightly. "My mother will never reject you again."Elena was silent. Her heart seemed to be gently soothed. For the first time, she felt accepted."Than