Chapter 4: Buried in the Wreckage

That fleeting moment of memory meant nothing. I knew that. It was just a ghost, a glitch in his carefully constructed lie.

As Maya and I wait for a cab outside the gallery, the sound of a familiar laugh drifts from a nearby alley.

I glance over, and my stomach turns to ice.

It's Ethan and Chloe pressed against the brick wall, completely absorbed in each other.

The sight fills me with a cold, clean disgust.

There's no jealousy left.

Only revulsion.

This wasn't just infidelity. It was another violation of everything the family claimed to stand for.

Discretion. Honor. Self-control.

Ethan was publicly embarrassing the family name, showing a weakness his enemies would eagerly exploit.

Just as our cab pulls up, Ethan's black sedan screeches to a stop beside it.

He steps out, adjusting his shirt, his expression completely unapologetic.

Chloe follows close behind, wearing a smug smile.

'Need a ride?' he asks casually.

As if I hadn't just witnessed him destroying what remained of our future.

Against my better judgment—and Maya's furious glare—I say yes.

Maybe I needed one final reminder.

One last look at who he had truly become.

The ride is tense from the moment we leave.

Chloe spends the entire trip talking about a new brand partnership.

I know exactly where the funding comes from.

Reed family money hidden beneath legitimate businesses.

Ethan keeps glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

Watching.

Studying.

Trying to measure my reaction.

Then he asks the question.

'So, what were we like?'

His tone is light and curious.

Like he's interviewing a stranger instead of speaking to the woman he planned to marry.

Before I can answer, everything changes.

The world explodes into chaos.

Ethan jerks the steering wheel.

The tires scream.

Metal crashes against metal with a deafening impact.

The car slams into a parked truck.

Pain erupts through my body.

My head strikes the window.

Something cracks inside my arm.

The world blurs into flashing lights and ringing ears.

Through the haze, I hear sirens approaching.

Blue and red lights paint the wreckage in violent colors.

Ethan's Soldiers arrive almost immediately, appearing from the shadows like ghosts.

His power is everywhere.

Even here.

A paramedic rushes toward the vehicle.

'Who's hurt worst?'

I taste blood.

'My arm,' I whisper. 'I think it's broken. And my head...'

But Ethan doesn't even look at me.

He points directly at Chloe.

'Her,' he says firmly. 'Take her first. She needs help now.'

Chloe is crying over a small cut on her leg.

Meanwhile, agony burns through my arm.

Yet he chooses her.

Not privately.

Not quietly.

Publicly.

In front of his men.

In front of strangers.

In front of everyone.

The humiliation is complete.

The future Don has chosen his mistress over his fiancée.

The message couldn't be clearer.

They carefully lift Chloe onto a stretcher.

She continues crying dramatically as they wheel her away.

Nobody asks about me again.

Nobody checks if I can move.

Nobody stays.

I sit trapped inside twisted metal and shattered glass.

The pain in my arm is nothing compared to the emptiness spreading through my chest.

For years, I believed I belonged somewhere.

With Ethan.

With the family.

With the future we were building.

Now I understand the truth.

I was never truly valued.

I was only useful.

And now, apparently, even that wasn't enough.

As the ambulance carrying Chloe disappears into the night, its siren echoing through the darkness, a chilling certainty settles over me.

Whatever remained between Ethan and me died tonight.

It's over.

Dead and buried beneath the wreckage of this car.