Without warning, I spin on my heel and stumble toward the black car.
When I slip inside, I slam the door hard enough to rattle the frame, my chest heaving, eyes wide and wet as they lock onto the driver.
“Please… drive,” I rasp, my voice breaking on the plea, thick with panic.
He doesn’t move, but his gaze finds mine in the rearview mirror, cold and unblinking. Loyal not to me but to the man who owns us both, and the silence is worse than the refusal.
The door to my left swings open without warning, a rush of rain spraying in, and my hand instinctively shoots to the opposite handle, desperate to escape.
But a sharp click resounds through the car, final and metallic, like a lock sealing my cage.
Law settles in beside me, calm and careful, every motion dripping with power and control. His hand rests lazily on the front of his black suit, as though he’s sliding into a throne.
I keep my gaze fixed forward, unseeing, my vision blurred with frantic tears. Every nerve screams that I’m trapped now, trapped completely, and there’s no way out.
“Home,” Law orders, his voice resonant and carrying the kind of tone that doesn’t need to be raised.
Home.
The word twists inside me like a dagger. Whose home? His? Ours? Because it hasn’t felt like mine in what seems like forever.
The driver obeys without hesitation, pulling the car smoothly into the rain-slicked night.
Through the window, I catch a final glimpse of Brad still standing outside the event hall, his figure distorted by the storm.
Our eyes meet, just for a heartbeat, just long enough for me to feel the ache of everything unsaid, before the car turns, and he vanishes into the dark.
When the car finally halts, I turn my head to the window, and through the sheet of rain and splatter, the huge lake house looms, its windows black.
Each tick of Law’s expensive watch feels louder, dragging me closer to something I can’t name but feel.
As soon as the locks snap open, I don’t wait. I shove the door wide and bolt into the storm, heels slipping on wet stone as I sprint toward the gates.
The towering metal bars are grinding shut, inch by inch, but desperation drives me faster.
“Blaire!” Law’s powerful voice barks through the night, and my body seizes on instinct, freezing mid-stride, as though my name itself has chains.
I don’t know how long I’ve been standing here, drenched and trembling, before I finally hear the heavy gates slam closed with a finality that clatters through my bones.
Blinking through tears, I force myself to turn ,and he’s there, at the end of the car, hands buried in his pockets, gaze flat and unreadable.
Law strides toward me, each step devouring the distance until we stand face to face. Rain runs in rivulets from his dark hair, streaming down his chiseled features, his blue eyes sweeping over my soaked face.
“Come inside,” he commands, and it’s soft, yet somehow still devoid of any real emotion.
“Are you going to hurt me?” I ask, eyes glassy as I look for a flicker of the man I married.
But he says nothing, and the silence is an answer stronger than any response.
Something hot and furious flares inside me at the sight of him, small but there, and the anger tastes like betrayal.
My chest tightens, and my hands curl into fists at my sides.
“I can’t do this anymore, Law,” I blurt, voice frayed, but I straighten my shoulders, lift my chin, and tell him the things I’ve rehearsed a thousand times in the dark. “I refuse. I won’t wait for you to change. I won’t wait for you to kill me. I want a divorce.”
And I mean it. Even if it destroys me inside. Even if I’m all alone in this world. I can’t do this anymore.
He listens like a man hearing distant thunder, then slowly reaches up and lets the backs of his knuckles skim my cold cheek.
