Chapter 4

After leaving the boutique, I stopped by a local print shop and paid two dollars to print out a divorce agreement.

I hadn't planned on attending the gala tonight.

Yet I changed my mind.

This event had been on Julian’s calendar for three months, and I was originally scheduled to be on his arm.

Since I was determined to end things, handing him the papers face-to-face tonight would make for a clean, definitive break.

At eight in the evening, dressed in a simple outfit, I boarded the luxury cruise liner.

Inside the grand ballroom, crystal chandeliers glittered over a sea of high society.

Instead of mingling, I walked straight to the dimmest, most secluded corner of the lounge and sat down.

Within minutes, a shadow fell over me.

Julian stood before me.

He stared down at me, his brows knitted tightly.

A mix of exhaustion and suppressed confusion flickered in his eyes as he spoke:

"I thought you weren't coming. Why didn't you call me to pick you up? Are you still sulking over a dress?"

I looked up at his handsome, stony face, having no interest in making a scene here. "I have two legs. I don't need you to chauffeur me around."

I reached into my purse to pull out the divorce papers, ready to hand them over and leave.

Right at that moment, Mandy approached.

Naturally slipping beside Julian, she softly reminded him that several senior business associates were waiting for him by the terrace.

Julian glanced at me, holding back his frustration. "Just sit here for now. When the gala is over, you’re coming home with me."

"No need. I can get home myself. When you have a minute, we need to talk."

A flash of surprise crossed Julian's eyes. He paused, said nothing, and turned away.

Mandy trailed right behind him, casting a smug, provocative glance back at me with a smirk.

I ignored her pathetic games and looked away. Suddenly, my phone buzzed on the table.

[Look at that temper. And here I thought you’d gotten used to being a doormat.]

The sender was Ryder.

Looking at that name, fragments of college memories flickered into focus.

Ryder Vance—the wealthy heir who had sponsored my college rock band.

Three years ago, he had subtly and openly warned me not to throw my youth away by becoming a submissive housewife.

After the wedding, to appease Julian's jealousy, I had cut off ties with nearly all my male friends, including him.

I hadn't expected him to be here tonight.

Then again, with his family background, an invitation to a high-society event like this was standard.

Trusting my instincts, I looked up toward the second-floor mezzanine. Sure enough, there he was.

Dressed in a sleek leather jacket, he leaned against the brass railing, raising his glass toward me in a silent salute.

I offered a polite nod, grabbed my clutch, and walked outside.

I wasn't in the mood to catch up with an old flame right now.

Besides, this wasn't the place for it.

Stepping onto the open-air deck, the river breeze hit me with a chill.

Before long, familiar footsteps clicked behind me.

Mandy stopped beside the railing, her tone airy and condescending: "Savannah, honestly, you shouldn't have come tonight. Even if you hold the legal title of Mrs. Sterling, everyone here can see who Julian really protects."

I turned to face her, about to speak, when the deck beneath us suddenly violently shuddered.

BOOM!

A muffled explosion ripped through the lower hull of the ship.

The lights cut out instantly. Thick, acrid black smoke billowed out of the ventilation shafts, and screams erupted inside the ballroom.

Above us, a heavy decorative lighting truss shook loose from the ceiling, tilting dangerously and crashing right toward where we stood!

Through the panic and smoke, Julian’s figure burst onto the deck.

Mandy and I were standing barely two feet apart.

Yet in that split second of raw instinct, Julian lunged forward, grabbed Mandy’s arm, yanked her into the safety of the corridor, and shielded her body entirely with his own.

I was slammed into by the stampeding crowd, tumbling hard onto the wooden deck.

The metal lighting truss crashed down just inches from me, spraying shattered glass everywhere as thick, suffocating smoke flooded my lungs.

Through the chaos, I stared at Julian's back, watching him fiercely protecting Mandy. A sharp, hollow ache pierced my chest.

Coughing violently on the smoke, tears welled in my eyes—whether from the soot or the heartbreak, I couldn't tell.

Suddenly, a strong hand gripped my arm, hauling me upward with immense force.

It was Ryder. I had no idea when he had rushed down.

Looking pale with worry, he ripped off his jacket, pressing it over my nose and mouth. "What are you doing zoning out?! Move!"

I blinked in a daze, letting him pull me along through the crowd.

Ten minutes later, the passengers were evacuated to the safety of the top observation deck.

I leaned against the railing, hunched over, hacking up dark, sooty phlegm.

Not far away, Julian was handing a trembling Mandy over to the onboard paramedics.

He turned, his eyes searching frantically through the crowd.

The moment he spotted me standing with Ryder, his clenched jaw slightly relaxed.

Striding over, his eyes quickly scanned me for injuries, but his first instinct was still to scold me: "Why did you run off instead of staying in the lounge? Don't you know how to follow the evacuation crowd?"

As he spoke, he reached out to grab my arm. "Are you hurt?"

Using the iron railing for leverage, I straightened my posture.

Right before his fingers could graze my skin, I drew back my right arm and, with every ounce of strength left in my body, slapped him across the face.

SLAP!

"Julian, we’re getting a divorce."

I looked at him, my expression deathly calm, but my eyes completely devoid of warmth. "That slap settles everything between us. We're done."