Chapter 5

Sera's POV

The room was in chaos, but nobody cared about the girl suffocating on the floor.

It was Julian who finally rushed over, tore open my purse, found my emergency EpiPen, and jammed it into my thigh.

"Miss Vance! Hang in there!"

The medication flooded my system, and I began to cough violently, finally clawing back a breath of air.

I pushed Julian's hand away and forced myself up against the wall, shaking.

"Miss Vance, let me take you to the hospital..." Julian said, his eyes filled with genuine worry.

"No need," my voice was raw, sounding like sandpaper. "Goodbye, Julian."

With that, I dragged my heavy steps out of The Obsidian.

At 2 AM, I returned to the apartment.

I didn't turn on the lights. I went straight to the backyard, to the old oak tree.

Four years ago, the day Ethan paid off his last debt, we buried a time capsule here. Inside were our wishes for the future.

I grabbed a small shovel, using my left hand to slowly dig up the rusted tin box.

I opened it.

My note read: "I hope Ethan is always happy, and I hope we stay together forever."

Ethan's note, written in his bold, confident handwriting, read: "I want Apex Tech to go public, and I want Chloe to come home soon."

There was no me.

From the very beginning, his dream of the future never had my name in it.

A laugh escaped my lips, turning into quiet, bitter tears that smudged the ink on the paper.

I pulled out a lighter. Click.

The flame swallowed the paper, burning his lies and my wasted youth into ashes.

Back in the bedroom, I rolled out my suitcase.

Inside were only a few old clothes I had bought myself, my passport, and my visa. The designer bags and jewelry Ethan had bought me were left completely untouched on the shelves.

I walked to the vanity table, took off the cheap $50 silver band Ethan had bought me from a street vendor years ago, and placed it quietly on the table.

Next to it, I placed the signed copy of my resignation letter.

At 4 AM, suitcase in hand, I walked out of the apartment for the last time.

In the cab to JFK airport, I called Eleanor.

"Mrs. Thorne, I'm on my way to the airport. I'm leaving for Iceland."

Eleanor's satisfied laugh came through the speaker. "Excellent. The $50 million has been wired to your Swiss account. Remember your promise. Never come back."

"Don't worry. Even if he dies in front of me, I won't look twice."

I hung up, pulled out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and threw it out the window.

Then, I deleted my Instagram and all my social media accounts.

But before going to JFK, I had to stop by my old studio in Brooklyn to pick up my mother's journal, the last thing I had left.

The flight to Reykjavik wasn't for another three hours. I thought I had time.

But just as I zipped my backpack, a loud crash echoed. The wooden door of the studio was kicked open.

I looked up in shock to see Chloe Bennett walking in, wearing head-to-toe Chanel and towering stilettos. Behind her stood two burly bodyguards.

"Well, well. Took $50 million just to rot in a dump like this?" Chloe looked around the dusty studio, pinching her nose in disgust, her eyes dripping with malice.

I tensed, staring at her coldly. "What are you doing here?"

"Where do you think you're going?" Chloe sneered, stepping closer. "Sera, you made my life a living hell. Did you really think you could just take that money and walk away?"

"I made your life hell?" I scoffed. "Chloe, you got Ethan back. What else do you want?"

"I want you ruined!" Chloe's face distorted with rage, and she nodded to her guards.

The two men instantly lunged forward, pinning me face-down onto the dirty floor.

Chloe walked over, her eyes locking onto my struggling right hand. A cruel smile stretched across her face. "I heard you're an illustrator. Ethan told me your hands are worth millions."

A wave of sheer terror washed over me. "Chloe, don't you dare!"

"Why wouldn't I? I'm the real Mrs. Thorne now!" Chloe raised her foot, and the sharp heel of her stiletto came down hard on my right wrist.

"AH!"

A blood-curdling scream tore from my throat, echoing in the empty studio.

Chloe didn't stop. She put all her weight on it, grinding her heel into my flesh. The sickening crunch of breaking bones filled the small room.

"You love to draw, don't you? Let's see you seduce men with a shattered hand!"

The agony was a tidal wave, drowning my senses. I convulsed, cold sweat soaking my clothes instantly.

"Chloe, you will pay for this." I bit my lip so hard blood dripped down my chin.

"You will die first." Chloe's eyes drifted to my stomach, her smile growing more demonic. "Don't think I don't know you visited the OB-GYN last week. You want to trap Ethan with a baby? In your dreams."

Before I could process her words, Chloe kicked me violently in the stomach.

Once. Twice. Three times.

A guttural scream of absolute agony escaped my lips. A sharp, tearing pain ripped through my lower abdomen. A warm, thick liquid began to flow down my thighs, quickly staining the wooden floor crimson.

Looking at me lying like a broken ragdoll in a pool of my own blood, completely unconscious, Chloe finally smiled in satisfaction and walked out with her men.