Damian stood by the door, his arms crossed, his jaw clenched in that familiar, cold mask of indifference. "Love?" He scoffed, his voice venomous. "You think this is love, Emelia? You were never supposed to be in this marriage. It was always Isabella. She's the one I love. She's the one who deserves me. You? You're just a stand-in, a mistake I was forced to live with." His words were like daggers, each one sinking deeper into Emelia's heart.
Her chest tightened as she tried to hold herself together. "But I didn't ask for this! I didn't want any of this, Damian. It was your grandfather's wish, you know that! I thought... I thought we could make this work."
Damian shook his head, a cruel laugh escaping his lips. "Make it work? Emelia, open your eyes. There's nothing here to fix. You're just a figurehead, something I had to deal with because of my inheritance. But guess what? I don't care anymore. I don't want it. I don't want you."
Her voice cracked as she pleaded, taking a step closer to him. "Damian, please... We've known each other since we were kids. There was a time when you loved me. I know you did. What changed? Why are you doing this? Why can't we-"
"What changed?" Damian snapped, his eyes blazing with fury. "You changed, Emelia. You think I could ever love someone like you? Pathetic, desperate, clinging to a marriage that was over before it even began. Isabella is everything you're not-beautiful, smart, confident. She doesn't drag me down like you do."
Emelia flinched at his words, her body trembling as she struggled to breathe through the pain. "I've done everything for you, Damian," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I gave up everything. My family hates me because of this marriage. They blame me for everything. But I stayed because I thought... I thought we could find our way back to each other."
"Your family hates you because they know the truth," Damian said, his voice cold and heartless. "You were never meant to be in this life. You're nothing but an obstacle. Isabella is the one I want. I've always wanted her."
Emelia's knees nearly buckled beneath her, her world crumbling as she watched the man she had loved her entire life turn into a stranger before her eyes. "Please, Damian... please don't leave me."
His eyes darkened with disgust. "You still don't get it, do you? I'm already gone. I've been gone for years. Sign the divorce papers, Emelia. Get out of my house. I can't stand the sight of you anymore."
Tears poured down her face, her hands trembling as she reached out one last time, desperate to cling to the pieces of her broken life. "Damian, please... don't do this."
He shoved her away, his grip bruising as he pushed her back. "Enough, Emelia. I don't love you, and I never will. I'm done pretending. Sign the papers and get the hell out of my life."
She stumbled back, her arm throbbing from where he had gripped her. Her eyes locked on his, searching for any trace of the man she once knew, the boy she had fallen in love with all those years ago. But there was nothing. Just emptiness.
Damian turned his back on her, walking out of the room without another word, leaving Emelia standing alone, the silence of the spacious bedroom suffocating her.
She collapsed onto the bed, sobs wracking her body, her heart splintering with each tear that fell. Her gaze drifted to the wedding picture on the wall-a reminder of a love that never existed. Her smile had been so bright that day, so full of hope. But Damian's face had been cold, emotionless, even then. She should have seen it. She should have known.
Her hand fell to her bruised arm, and a wave of bitterness washed over her. How had she allowed herself to become this? A shadow of the woman she used to be. Trapped in a marriage that had only brought her pain.
"I'm done," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. She stood up, wiping the tears from her face, her eyes now dry, void of emotion. She was done begging. Done being weak.
Her gaze landed on the divorce papers on the table, and a bitter laugh escaped her lips. "So, this is how it ends." She picked up the pen, her hand steady now, and signed her name with a finality that felt like freedom.
As she finished, she looked up at her reflection in the mirror. "You'll regret this, Damian," she whispered, a fire igniting in her chest. "You and everyone else will regret underestimating me."
With one last glance at the picture on the wall, Emelia walked out of the room, leaving the shattered pieces of her old life behind. She had made her decision.
Tonight, she would have her fun. And tomorrow, she would be gone-for good.