ana

utionary tale whispered in hushed tones. But here, on Cruz' s secluded island, I was very much alive

my marriage. He never pressed, never questioned, simply observed and supported. I told him bits and pieces of my story, the raw, ugly truth o

was probably scrambling to control the narrative, to protect his empire, to minimize the damage of his wife's convenient "dis

dding ring, a dull gold band that symbolized a love that had turned to ash. I remembered Britton slipping it onto my finge

a silent farewell, a final severance from the past. I felt no sorrow, only a profound sense

uz asked, appearing be

, his presence a steady anchor. He hadn't just saved my life; he

ted in the pre-nuptial agreement. This wasn't about revenge in the petty sense. It was about justice. It was about reb

ed to his secluded island. He pointed to a bulletin board. "Yo

astronomical. "He's desperate," I observed, a faint smirk touching my lips. "Good." I walke

m the sea air. "You deserve a fresh start, Elliana," Cruz said, his hand re

rst, I need to clean up the mess left behind." My eyes hard

ting a quiet understanding.

s a stark contrast to Britton's possessive control, his c

uments, the pre-nuptial agreement a sharp weapon in my arsenal. He also provided me with resources, contacts, and a level of logistical support t

I stood on the deck of Cruz's boat, looking back at the island, at th

d, my voice thick with e

helm. "Stay safe, Elliana. And rem

elt a surge of adrenaline. The fear was gone, replaced by a steely determination. Britton Cohen had tried t

He thought of everything. The city skyline loomed in the distance, a concrete jungle I was ready to conquer. My phone buzzed wit

you have no ide