I can’t find words. Not yet. Just the feel of her still holding me, steady and unyielding, like she’s the only thing keeping me tethered. And for the first time in my life, there is no voice in my head warning me that something's wrong.
Only she is here with me.
Silence stretches, thick with the sound of our breathing. My body is still humming, nerves shot raw, every inch of me aware of her.
Elaine doesn’t move, doesn’t rush me. Her hand smooths down my back, slow, grounding, like she knows I’ll come apart if she lets go too soon.
I bury my face against her shoulder, the sharp edges of her shirt buttons digging into my cheek, and I don’t care. I just need her close.
Her voice finally breaks the quiet, low, and rough. “You okay?”
The question unravels me more than anything else. I nod, though my throat burns too much to speak. When I finally liftmy head, her eyes are on me—soft, unguarded, a storm I never thought I’d get to stand in.
“Elaine,” I whisper, my voice wrecked. “That… that was everything I ever needed.”
Her lips twitch, almost a smile, but not quite. “Good. Because I don’t think I could survive pretending you’re not everything I ever needed.”
The air shifts. It’s heavier, but not laced with guilt—with truth. It locks between us like a secret we both carried too long and finally dropped into the open.
My throat tightens, but I don’t look away. I can’t. Not when her eyes are on me like that, like she’s been waiting for years just to say it out loud.
I kiss her again, softer this time, a whisper of a promise against her mouth. “Then no more pretending.”
Her fingers flex in my braid, tugging me closer until her forehead presses against mine. Her breath mingles with mine, steadying me, branding me.
“No more pretending,” she echoes.
The bubble bursts as shouting erupts louder from outside. Mac and Theo’s voices collide, sharp with obscenities. Beneath it all, Donovan’s voice cuts through—raw, unraveling. There’s something hollow in it now, the sound of a man stripped bare. He isn’t the same person I once knew. Every word drips with loss, and his only goal is wrath.
Elaine and I lace our fingers together, straighten our clothes, and head downstairs side by side. Whatever waits below, we’ll face it together. I just need him to leave.
The front door shudders on its hinges; the shouting is sharp and jagged as Mac and Theo try to hold the line. But then Donovan’s voice tears through the noise, louder, closer—until the door swings wide, slamming against the wall.
His eyes find me instantly. Wild. Bloodshot. Empty in a way that makes my stomach twist. For a heartbeat, the room goes still. Then his rage detonates.
“Stella!” His roar splits the air, sharp enough to rattle the glass in the windows. “You think you can ruin me? You think you can strip me down and leave me with nothing?” Spit flashes at the corner of his mouth as he jerks forward, every word snapping like a lash.
Then he sees her—Elaine—our hands locked tight, our stance unbroken. His face twists, a mask of betrayal and hate. His voice lowers for half a breath, guttural, shaking with fury.
“Withher?” His whole body trembles, veins straining at his neck as the words rip out of him. “You fucking dare stand with her? That snake? Thatwhorewho crawled into my bed? You think you get to humiliate me, to flaunt the mistress in my face like I’m nothing?”
His rage detonates, louder, hotter, until the walls themselves feel like they’re vibrating with it. “I’ll burn it all down before I watch you walk away with her. You hear me, Stella? I’ll bury you both before I let this be how it ends! You think she can take my place? You thinkshecan stand where I stood? Over my dead fucking body!”
The words slam into me, sharp enough to split bone. For a moment, I feel myself folding inward, breath knocked shallow, that old instinct to shrink under his storm clawing back through my chest.
Then Elaine’s fingers tighten around mine—firm, grounding, and unshakable.
I draw in a breath, square my shoulders, and lift my chin. The tremor in me hardens into something venomous, something that cuts sharper than his rage.
“Remember, Donovan—you wanted a villain. Here I am. You wanted me and her. What you get is mewithher. And don’t forget—karma has no deadline.”
For a moment, silence. His mouth parts, but no sound comes out. He chokes on the rage that fills him. The weight of my words hangs heavy in the air.
Then it hits. His face contorts, blotched red with fury, eyes wild and unhinged. A sound tears out of him—half laugh, half scream—before words tumble, jagged and raw. “You think you’re untouchable?” Donovan spits, his voice shredding itself apart. “You think the world won’t see you for what you are? A liar. A whore. A cold-blooded bitch playing queen on a throne that was never clean.”
His chest heaves, eyes gleaming wild and hateful. “Stand there with her all you want—it won’t save you. I’m coming for everything, Stella. The house. The cars. The business. Every last drop of Carrington blood money you hide behind.”
He leans forward, a cruel smile twisting his face. “And when I’m finished, the whole goddamn world will know exactly what the Carrington namereallystands for.”
