Before the Heart Breaks

Chapter 1

**Crossing the Threshold**

It was the end of February, and a chill lingered in the air.

Elena Montgomery stepped outside from the law firm, her thin coat insufficient against the biting cold that seeped into her bones. But the physical chill was nothing compared to the frost in her heart.

Her limbs felt numb as she stood there, her attention drifting until a car pulled up in front of her.

“Madam,” the driver greeted as he opened the door.

Climbing into the car, the warm interior enveloped her, gradually melting away some of the coldness clinging to her skin.

Just two weeks ago, she had visited the Fairfax ancestral home for the New Year, only to be ensnared by Clara Ainsworth's crooked machinations…

Benjamin was Clara's own fault for tumbling down the stairs, but John Fairfax wouldn't hear a word of her defense. Instead, she had been dragged away, left without her coat, and held for two weeks under criminal detention.

Outside the window, the scenery whipped by as the car made its way through Silverwood Estates.

As Elena alighted from the vehicle, she glanced up at the mansion that had been her home for three years. This place was meant to be her sanctuary, the backdrop to her life with John Fairfax.

“Welcome back, Madam,” the housekeeper chimed, her gaze measuring Elena with a hint of disdain.

“The ginger tea is ready if you would like…”

“No, thank you.” Elena ascended the stairs, each step heavier than the last.

In the bedroom on the second floor, she paused at the threshold. The familiar scent of John lingered in the air, but layered over that was an undeniable and unsettling fragrance.

She bit back her bitterness.

In just half a month, had he really moved on so swiftly?

After a long soak in the tub, Elena drifted off into a dreamless sleep, waking to find the room dim with darkness.

Checking her phone, she saw it was past eight p.m.

With an empty stomach and no will to eat, she reluctantly let the housekeeper serve her a bowl of congee.

Just as she swallowed her first few bites, the sound of tires crunching gravel at the driveway caught her attention.

She stood, heart racing as John Fairfax's silhouette appeared in the doorway.

“Darling,” she breathed, rushing to meet him.

His eyes flicked to her briefly, revealing a frozen detachment that sent a shiver down her spine.

She instinctively reached for his jacket, following him upstairs.

“Darling, I didn’t push Clara Ainsworth…” she began to explain, but his sharp gaze pinned her in place.

In that moment, her heart felt as if it had been cleaved in two. He still didn't believe her.

Even saying Clara's name twisted the knife deeper, as if it was evidence of her shameful intentions.

“Don’t let it happen again,” he warned, his voice cold as he strode to his study—a place she had never been allowed to enter in their three years of marriage.

Elena lingered at the top of the staircase, watching as he vanished down the hall. Her truth remained unacknowledged, unheard.

Defeated, she returned to her room.

Hours slipped by until just after one a.m., when she felt the weight beside her shift. The covers were pulled back, and a warm body settled against her.

Stirring from her fog of sleep, she rolled instinctively into John’s embrace, his heated kisses igniting a familiar fire in her.

His fingers worked swiftly at her sleepwear, breath hitching as he pulled a drawer open beside the bed.

“It’s empty.” His brow furrowed in frustration, his eyes blazing with cold fury as he sat up.

Elena blinked, realization hitting her like a slap. He meant the condoms.

Her heart plummeted as she registered the implications. She knew the inventory well; they had half a box left before she was taken away.

Unless…

Those remaining had been used… with someone else.

Pallor washed over her face.

John's expression soured as he let go of her, rising abruptly.

Instinctively, she reached out, gripping his arm.

His eyes turned dark, glacial. “Let go.”

“Darling…” Tears pooled in her eyes.

So, he had cheated. Right in this bed.

While she was locked up, John had been with another woman, right here, as memories flooded her—her stomach twisting at the thought, she pushed him away.

He grasped her jaw, steel fingers holding her in place. “Stop thinking what you shouldn’t.”

With that, he released her, storming off. “Do you really think you deserve to have my child, Elena Montgomery?” The disdain in his voice pierced through her defenses.

As he exited, her tears broke free, and silence enveloped the bedroom.

Elena stifled her sobs, collapsing into muffled cries against her hands.

Without condoms, she would never feel his touch again.

Three years ago, she had been the one victimized when Benjamin had drugged John, and in a twist of fate, Elena was pulled into that disaster.

Forced to marry John under a veil of tragic circumstances, she had devoted herself to him entirely, believing that love could thaw the frozen heart she now faced.

After her tears subsided, she rifled through the drawer beside her, finding it empty—just one lonely packaging left.

……

The next morning, Elena woke bleary-eyed, her reflection in the mirror revealing red-rimmed eyes. She looked defeated, worn down by the burdens of the past few days.

The only thing she shouldn’t have done was fall for John Fairfax.

As she descended the stairs, she could sense the heavy silence before he appeared—his face rigid and unyielding.

Glancing up, she offered him a cautious smile as she handed him a steaming cup of coffee. Same as always, he rose at seven-thirty for his workout regimen.

“Careful, it’s hot,” she murmured, keeping her gaze lowered, an automatic reflex.

But today, the term "Darling" stayed lodged in her throat.

He accepted the cup, scanning her with a cold detachment before taking a sip and striding out the door without a word.

Elena stood by the open door, watching him jog off into the morning, a silent prayer rising in her chest.

By seven-fifty, she returned to the second floor, readying a bath and clothes for him.

When exactly had she lost herself in this marriage?

She remembered the moment vividly: the million dollars he had given to her parents, the night they stumbled into bed together, the way her life turned upside down.

Elena Montgomery was no longer herself.

The shower muffled her thoughts until she heard the sound of footsteps.

“Thank you for your hard work.” She stood to recite her usual line, ready to help him undress.

John appeared like a monarch, reveling in her service as if it were his royal right.

He stepped into the tub, and she handed him the body wash.

“Make sure to get the condoms,” he ordered.

Elena found his penetrating gaze daunting. Hidden beneath the surface, an undying hunger flickered.

If only he knew that with the absence of protection, he might never touch her again. The chance of bearing his child slipped further out of reach every day.

“John Fairfax…” She hadn’t spoken his name like that in what felt like ages, holding back the bitterness. “In these three years, have you even… have you ever liked me?”

His brow lifted, eyes narrowing as he took in her words.

“Elena Montgomery, know your place. Don’t entertain thoughts you shouldn’t,” he retorted.

As he rose from the bathtub, droplets cascaded from his firm, sculpted physique.

She felt her cheeks flush, an involuntary reaction as she shifted her gaze.

As he rinsed off, water splashed onto her, and she stepped back, catching herself before stepping aside to retrieve a towel, then aiding him in dressing.

The sharp lines of his tailored suit only intensified his indifference, making him appear more imposing.

As they settled in for breakfast, the routine droned on—predictable and monotonous.

Just as they sat down, the sound of high heels clacked from the entrance.

“James Fairfax.”

Clara Ainsworth appeared in a sleek white dress, her presence unsettling the fragile calm of the morning.

Chapter 2

Clara Ainsworth lay back in her chair, her fingers tightly knotted together in her lap.

She noticed the chill in the air as John Fairfax shot her a cold glance, one that seemed to slice through the tense atmosphere.

Elena Montgomery felt that piercing gaze and lowered her head, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

“Brr!” Clara exclaimed playfully as she bounced in front of John. “James, it’s freezing in here.” Her eyes flicked over to Elena, a sly smile barely masking her satisfaction.

Noble Eleanor Bennett, the housekeeper, stepped in, instantly sensing the charged mood. She ladled a bowl of steaming congee and offered it to Clara.

“Miss Ainsworth, it’s quite chilly. A warm bowl of congee will do wonders.”

Her warmth surpassed even that of Elena, the so-called lady of the house.

“Thank you,” Clara chirped, settling into her seat next to John and fixing her gaze back on Elena. “Elena, you’re back.”

Elena didn’t respond. It was as if Clara’s words merely floated in the air, unheard.

The moment Clara felt ignored, victorious malice flashed in her eyes. “Elena, I really don’t blame you for pushing me down the stairs…” She paused, her tone hovering somewhere between uncertain and mocking. “I’m sure you didn’t mean it.”

“Only…” she directed a smile at John. “James can’t stand to see me hurt, which is why you must have gotten so upset…”

“Elena, you’re not upset with James, are you?”

The moment Clara mentioned John, Elena couldn’t even pretend to ignore it anymore. Her head dropped, her eyes met John’s icy ones, and she felt that familiar sting rise in her chest.

Was he trying to defend his precious little light?

With a spark of rebellion igniting in her veins, John’s voice cut through the air. “Apologize.”

Since Elena returned, he had picked up on the restlessness creeping back into her demeanor, her mind evidently elsewhere.

“James, it’s not like Elena meant to,” Clara chimed in innocently. “Besides, she’s already had her punishment.”

Her eyes danced with mischief as they fixated on Elena.

Feeling the heat of both Clara’s and John’s judgment, Elena saw his face darken like a storm cloud.

With a slight smirk tugging at her lips, she met Clara's gaze without flinching. “I didn’t push you. Why would I apologize?”

The time she spent locked away had sharpened her mind, stripped her of complacency.

Three years were long enough — it was time to wake up.

And John… he was no worth the dreams she had conjured in her heart.

Pain surged within her — men like him, they always strayed.

What was there left to dream about?

John lifted an eyebrow, an edge of curiosity flaring in his cold stare, clearly intrigued by her defiance.

“Clara Ainsworth deserves more respect than you’re giving her, don’t you think?” He insisted, his tone growing sharper.

Without skipping a beat, Clara leaned into the tension. “What were you thinking, Elena? Pushed? Did you think I just tumbled down on my own?”

As she rose to leave, her heart hammered in her chest.

“Stop right there,” John commanded, his voice like steel. “I said apologize.”

Elena turned back to him, disbelief etched across her features.

Of course, she had spent time behind bars.

Her innocence didn’t matter a whit in his eyes.

And then, the irony hit her, and she chuckled, a bitter, self-deprecating laugh escaping her lips.

“Miss Ainsworth, I’m terribly sorry.” She dipped her head mockingly. “My deepest apologies for being ‘that low’ and shoving you. Truly.”

Her gaze turned to John next. “Is that enough for you?”

Her eyes danced with sarcasm, and John felt the fire light within him, irritation flaring at her audacity. In one swift motion, he stood up, grabbing her by the throat.

“Elena, are you challenging me?”

With the air thickening, she remained silent, her face betraying no weakness as she clenched her jaw.

John’s frown deepened, while Clara observed with gleeful anticipation.

Elena was nothing in John’s world anyway; she wasn’t worthy of his love. Clara wanted nothing more than for Elena to vanish.

“James, don’t do this…” Clara’s voice softened, affected by the sudden aggression in the air.

John snapped back to reality, releasing Elena as she stumbled back and fell to the floor.

Fighting back tears, determined not to expose her vulnerability, she hurried out, rushing upstairs.

As John watched her retreat, a dangerous sense of loss crept up on him.

Elena…

He whispered her name inwardly, dismissing the storm brewing inside.

That commotion had killed his appetite, so he grabbed his coat and decided to head to the office instead.

Clara watched him leave, her heart sinking as she turned back toward the staircase.

In the bathroom, Elena splashed cold water on her face, trying to simmer down her emotions when Clara burst in, her air of superiority reinstated.

“Elena, don’t think I haven’t offered you a way out,” Clara declared, her tone dripping with haughtiness. “Divorce James Fairfax and I’ll hand you a cool hundred grand.”

“Otherwise,” she continued with a sly smile, “James will kick you out of Fairfax Estate without a dime to your name.”

Elena didn’t doubt her words.

But…

She smirked, spun around, and retorted, “Wow, Clara, is that all? A measly hundred grand? Are you trying to brush off a beggar?”

Flashing her defiance, she revealed an unexpected strength, one Clara didn’t foresee.

“You…” Clara stammered, taken aback by the sudden ferocity in Elena’s demeanor.

“Disappointed?” She continued, her voice low and mocking. “How about three hundred thousand, five hundred thousand? I’m not pressed for cash.”

It was as if she saw right through Clara’s condescension.

Elena pushed past her, apprehensive but also unyielding. How had she fallen for John in the first place?

From bitter admiration to a heart caught in turmoil, she had tangled herself deeply in this messy love affair.

In three years, she had thought life would continue this way — until Clara returned, shattering that illusion.

It hit her hard: John had never truly cared for her.

They hadn’t even given her a chance; she was shoved into an unyielding system that turned against her.

Before she realized what was happening, Clara lunged forward and slapped Elena across the face.

Elena instinctively leaned back, then retaliated with a swift slap of her own.

The echo of Clara’s stunned silence rang through the air as she processed the attack.

A renowned socialite, Clara Ainsworth found herself stinging from a slap delivered by a lowly nobody.

How dare she?

“Go tell James Fairfax,” Elena taunted. “I’m sure he’d get a laugh out of it.”

“Bitch,” Clara hissed, her pretty face contorting with rage. “I’ll ruin you.”

Elena’s gaze turned icy. She gathered her things, preparing to bolt for home.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

A message from Isabella Fairfax.

After a moment of hesitation, she answered the call.

“Elena, come to Fairfax Manor this afternoon,” Isabella commanded, her tone brokering no argument.

“Sure,” Elena replied, biting her tongue and swallowing her irritation.

Three years of toil and settling debts…

As clarity washed over her, she realized Clara had long disappeared.

The emptiness crept back in, and she packed her belongings, preparing for a trip to Fairfax Manor.

Fifteen days in detention had rattled her, yet her parents hadn't once come to see her. Were they oblivious to her plight, or were they simply unwilling to face the truth?

No point in dwelling on it.

……

That afternoon at Fairfax Manor, Elena sat composed and dignified across from Isabella.

“Here.” A pile of documents was tossed onto the table forcefully.

“Sign them,” Isabella demanded in a tone that reeked of condescension. “A person should know their place.”

Elena opened the file to reveal a divorce agreement, identical copies glaring back at her.

Each page screamed of a clean break: no possessions, no fortune, simply nothing.

Isabella noted her hesitation and offered, with a touch of false kindness, “Of course, sign this, and we might throw in a little something for you.”

Chapter 3

**Divorce, Then**

“John Fairfax said that?” Elena Montgomery fixed her gaze on Isabella Fairfax, her eyes glimmering with what seemed like naïve hope.

“Ha! Who could blame him? You haven’t moved an inch in three years,” Isabella shot back, glancing derisively at Elena’s flat stomach.

“You, sitting there as a pampered woman, how dare you judge me?” Isabella's contempt deepened. “Coming from someone whose claim to fame is just sitting around, it’s rich. And don’t think anyone will be impressed after fifteen days in jail.”

Elena’s heart sank, the bitter truth hitting her square in the chest.

Fearful that she might leverage a pregnancy to blackmail him, John Fairfax had kept his distance. No protection, no touch—nothing for three long years.

His indifference echoed like a ghost in her mind as she thought back, a cold retreat that had never warmed her heart.

Elena squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment, then opened them with a steely resolve.

“I can sign.”

“Not a penny for me.” She stood up decisively. “Let the past be the past.”

It was never about the ten million; she wouldn’t have bent over backwards to please John Fairfax if there hadn’t been love involved. And now, that debt was erased.

“I’ll take the agreement with me.” She closed the folder firmly. “Isabella, I’m leaving.”

With that, she strode out, purposeful and stark.

“Wait, what…?” Isabella stammered, taken aback as a new reality settled in. Did Elena actually seem ready for this divorce?

For her, it was all a blessing—no more responsibilities to handle.

Elena returned to Fairfax Retreat, signed the divorce papers, and lingered in the bedroom for just a moment before leaving a message for John. Then she was on her way back to Whitaker Hall.

**Tomorrow, 9 AM Civic Hall**

John Fairfax stared at Elena’s text, a mix of confusion and disbelief washing over him.

He dialed her number, but she didn’t answer.

Back at Fairfax Retreat, he learned that Elena had packed her things and left, the signed divorce papers left behind on the table.

He laughed bitterly.

“Playing hard to get, huh?”

He couldn’t shake off the nagging doubt that the Montgomerys were just a clan of greedy leeches. There was no way Elena genuinely wanted to leave him.

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed his phone aside, not letting it bother him.

**Whitaker Hall.**

A sprawling three-story villa, over three hundred square feet, the place was a monument to their fading love. Aside from the previously negotiated ten million, this villa was also a gift from John.

What Elena didn’t realize was that in these three years, Robert Montgomery had attempted multiple overtures with various excuses to John.

“What did you say? John Fairfax wants a divorce?” Elizabeth Montgomery’s sharp voice cut through Elena’s thoughts, making her flinch.

“Yeah, Mom, as you know, John wants out, and I can’t really stop him,” Elena sighed, fatigue edging her voice.

“Pfft! You have no one to blame but yourself. If you'd given him a kid or two, you wouldn’t be getting kicked out of the Fairfax household,” Elizabeth grumbled before shifting gears. “What’s your cut of the settlement?”

Before Elena could utter a word, her mom continued, “With how rich that family is, if you don’t walk away with at least a few million, you’ve been played.”

“Mom, I’m tired. I’m heading upstairs,” Elena said, dragging her suitcase towards the stairs.

Elizabeth trailed after her, insisting that she should negotiate for more money in the divorce.

Elena collapsed onto her bed, the weight of the past month crashing over her. So much had shifted in such a short time.

…

Meanwhile, John Fairfax returned to Fairfax Retreat, where Victoria Bennett handed him the divorce agreement Elena had left behind.

He opened it, glancing at the signature. Elena actually dared to sign it?

Didn’t she fear he might disregard the whole thing?

He chuckled cynically, climbing the stairs.

The bedroom still held the faint scent of her presence, yet she was gone.

He felt something unnameable wash over him, like an emptiness he couldn’t shake—a figment of his imagination.

He unbuttoned his shirt, frustration twisting in his gut. Elena had been locked away for fifteen days, while he'd endured an even longer dry spell without her.

He’d expected tonight…

The water for a bath remained unrun; he settled for a quick shower.

Back in his room, his discontent only deepened.

…

His phone buzzed with increasing urgency as if it were mocking him.

Elena stirred in her sleep, mumbling as she fumbled for the phone.

“Hello?”

Her voice was thick with sleep, raw and irritated.

On the other end, John was seething, his grip tight on the phone as he could almost feel the veins pop out on his hands.

“You sleeping well, huh?”

His frustration boiled over, wanting nothing more than to unleash his thoughts on her. Meanwhile, she sounded blissfully unaware.

“Elena,” he said coldly, “you have half an hour. Enough of this game.”

With that, he hung up.

Elena blinked, frowning at her phone.

“Half an hour… what does that even mean?”

Was he demanding she return within thirty minutes?

Fully awake now, she threw the curtains open, the faint light of the moon casting shadows around the room of Fairfax Retreat.

It suddenly struck her: accepting the idea of breaking away from John didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would.

Perhaps realizing he had been unfaithful had helped her release her grip on him long ago.

They were irreparably broken; losing herself over the last three years had been enough.

Time slipped by, and in no time, she realized the half-hour had passed.

John stood in his room, fuming as the tremendous weight of silence seeped into him, the peaceful night stubbornly outside.

Another ten minutes ticked by. After pouring himself a glass of ice water, he noticed Elena hadn’t returned.

Couldn’t be real—Elena wouldn’t actually disobey him.

He considered the situation; maybe she hadn’t quite gotten the message he had sent.

To John, Elena had always been his diligent housekeeper, catering to his every whim, like a parasite dependent on his success.

He dialed her number again.

His phone rang, a reminder of how seldom she answered him.

Elena hesitated but ultimately accepted the call.

“Elena, do you need me to come get you?”

His voice was strained, barely containing his anger.

It was indeed a request for her return.

A bitter smile crept onto her face—so typical of him.

“John, it’s late,” she took a breath. “The agreement is signed. I’ll see you at Civic Hall at nine tomorrow morning.”

With a click, she ended the call.

Tears splashed down her cheeks, remnants of three years of love still stinging her heart.

…

“Elena.”

The moment she hung up, John felt consumed by flames, an anger he hadn’t felt in some time.

How dare she cut him off like that?

The longer he seethed, the more his imagination spiraled.

He threw on a jacket and stormed out to his car. If he couldn’t sleep, then neither would anyone else.

The sound of tires screeching sliced through the peaceful night as John drove away from Fairfax Retreat.

Back at Whitaker Hall, uncertainty twisted inside Elena. John had started this mess, so why was he storming around angry?

Did he expect her to thank him for the divorce?

With a cold breeze creeping in, she shut the window and lay back in bed, scrolling through her phone.

Three years had left her with only a single photo—of John, caught napping, serene in his sleep.

She stared at the image, observing the way the harshness of his features softened while he rested.

A moment of wistfulness washed over her as she brushed her finger across the screen, ready to erase that bittersweet reminder of their time together.

Just then, the unmistakable sound of brakes squealed outside, snapping her to attention.

No way. Could it be…?

She shot up, throwing open the curtains to see a car parked out in front.

Chapter 4

**Reunion**

Elena Montgomery's return from overseas wasn’t exactly making headlines.

At the Fairfax estate, they were practically throwing a welcome party.

Clara Ainsworth had been mopping around there more than ever, while John Fairfax seemed unfazed, as if Elena’s departure had barely registered on his radar.

Dunshire.

“Well, would you look at that—three years later and finally making an appearance,” he smirked.

“So what’s the plan? A comeback tour?”

“Not quite,” Elena replied with a playful smile. “Just here to finish up my studies.”

Across from her sat William Harrington, a budding director and former classmate, looking sharp in his tailored suit.

Three years ago, her life turned upside down when she was whisked away to study directing abroad, all thanks to John Fairfax.

Whitaker Hall had no idea that she was a determined young woman who had worked her way into the school of her dreams, all on her own.

…

One year later.

In the first-class cabin of a plane.

Elena sported a fresh bob cut, exuding an edgy confidence that turned heads. But before she could fully settle in, a soft little figure plopped down on her lap.

Looking down, she saw a doll-like little girl with striking features.

“Auntie, are you my auntie?” the girl chirped in a sweet voice.

“So cute!” Elena’s heart melted as she scooped the girl up onto her knee. “How old are you?”

The girl stretched out her hand with a giggle. “Auntie, I'm five!”

“What a sweetheart!” Elena exclaimed, gently pinching her cheek. “Call me big sister and I’ll give you some chocolate!”

She wasn’t sure why the girl kept calling her “auntie,” but it was adorable.

“Nope, she’s definitely my auntie!” Grace Kingsley declared, wrapping her arms around Elena's waist as if they’d known each other forever.

She had found her auntie first, and boy, was she proud.

“What’s your name, little one? Where are your parents?” Elena teased, enjoying their little chat as other passengers simply ignored them.

“I'm Grace Kingsley! Don’t forget my name!”

Just then, the flight attendant came over, gently taking Grace away as they prepared for landing.

“I’ll come find you!” Grace waved as she was carried off, and Elena chuckled to herself, not giving it a second thought.

Thirty minutes later, the plane touched down.

Elena slipped on her sunglasses and grabbed her bag as she stepped off the aircraft.

It wasn’t long before she spotted Grace again, who was now pulling a bespectacled, well-dressed man through the crowd.

“Hurry, Daddy! My auntie is over there!”

“Slow down, watch your step,” Edward Kingsley warned, clearly skeptical about finding his younger daughter’s elusive aunt.

By the time they reached the spot, it was already empty.

Grace’s face fell, her bottom lip quivering as tears welled in her eyes.

“I lost Auntie! It’s all Daddy’s fault...”

Edward sighed, picking her up and soothingly rocking her as they exited the terminal.

At the VIP departure area, Elena, lost in her phone calls, didn’t notice the child’s sobs behind her at first.

Then she turned around and there was Grace, looking pitiful next to her father.

Edward caught her gaze and they exchanged a brief look, but he immediately shifted his focus back to his daughter.

“I told you not to cry,” he murmured, ushering Grace toward their car.

Elena shook her head, muttering, “Such a good-looking father-daughter duo...” Her thoughts were interrupted by a car pulling up to the curb.

She glanced over, hoping it was her ride.

But before she could fully register it, a familiar tall figure emerged from the vehicle: John Fairfax, with his signature cold expression that sent a shiver down her spine. She quickly turned her head away.

Really? The moment she came home, she ran into this jerk.

A few feet away, John’s eyes lingered on her longer than she’d like to admit.

“James Fairfax, remember not to overwork yourself,” Clara Ainsworth chimed in as she stepped out of the car, casually straightening John’s collar like it was just any other day.

Elena caught a glimpse of the interaction and felt an unsettling pang in her chest.

As if sensing her presence, John’s gaze snapped back to her once again.

The weight of his stare made her palms sweat; she felt exposed and anxious as if caught in a spotlight.

She quickly shifted her gaze, noticing Clara giving her the side-eye, thinly veiled animosity lurking behind her polite mask.

Fortunately, just then, a black sedan pulled up, and a driver stepped out.

“Miss Elena?” he inquired politely.

“Yep, that’s me,” she answered, slightly flustered as she climbed into the backseat.

As the car pulled away, she finally exhaled, wiping away the tension. “Hello, I’m Elena Montgomery.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Montgomery. My name is Mr. Wang.”

As they drove away from the airport’s chaos, Clara called out, “James Fairfax.”

At that, John pulled his icy stare away and slipped into the car beside her, his expression unreadable. “Back to the office.”

The driver began loading her luggage into the trunk.

“James, what’s going on?” Clara prodded, joining him inside without missing a beat.

Not in the mood for small talk, John fixed his eyes out the window, lost in thought.

Clara understood his silent treatment and opted to spare him her questions, though she occasionally attempted to spark a conversation.

It was a long ride.

…

At a five-star hotel.

“Miss Elena, if you need anything during your stay, don’t hesitate to speak up,” the concierge said, bowing as he handed her the key to her suite.

“Thanks so much,” she replied, watching him leave her alone in the lavish room.

Elena had made a small splash with her short film “Starfall” after a six-month whirlwind of success. Now that she was back, it felt surreal.

After a grueling ten-hour flight, she felt jet-lagged and restless, and the surprise of running into John still had her reeling.

Time to freshen up, she thought, before taking a quick bath and diving into sleep.

But just as she started to unwind, her phone pinged.

“Elena! Why didn’t you give me a heads-up before coming back?” came the familiar voice of William Harrington.

“Hey, it’s great to hear from you!” Elena chirped, the warmth of his tone reassuring. “You arranged my pick-up, didn't you?”

“Of course. You’ve got to rest up; I’ll take you out for dinner later.”

“Sure thing, boss!” she laughed, before the conversation shifted to playful banter filled with nostalgia.

…

Fairfax.

John Fairfax was staging a personal mission to find out where Elena had gone. His sources quickly reported she was at a hotel.

A photo was slipped into his hand, the image capturing her with that sleek bob, her beauty radiant and fierce.

“Elena…”

He couldn’t shake the feeling of possession that stirred within him; his ‘property’ had come home.

…

Later that night, as she prepared to meet William for dinner, Elena pulled on a sleek dress that complimented her fair skin. A quick touch-up to her hair, and she felt ready to own the evening.

At the hotel entrance, William swung open the passenger door for her.

“Elena, your film ‘Starfall’ has been a nationwide success! People are talking about it across borders!”

“Yeah, it was a one-man show for me—wrote, directed, and produced it all alone.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be raking in awards in no time.”

As they cruised through the city, William’s teasing made her smile brighter.

“Just don’t shower me with praise tonight; I’m expecting you to pick up the tab since you did all this for me,” she joked, closing the door behind her.

“Well, I hope you’ve got an appetite because we’re hitting the best restaurant in town.”

“Is that the five-star hotel you expect me to stay in indefinitely?!” she teased, knowing most newcomers didn’t enjoy such luxury.

“What’s the matter? Anything bothering you?” William asked, grinning wide.

“Just got to make sure ‘Auntie’ Grace doesn’t steal the spotlight tonight!”

Chapter 5

Unfazed

“No, everything’s great,” Elena Montgomery said quickly, shaking her head. Her red lips parted, ready to speak.

William Harrington cut in, his tone warm and inviting. “Then you should just stay here.”

Elena hesitated, words dancing on the tip of her tongue.

He waved his hand dismissively, stopping her in her tracks.

With her eyes glistening, Elena felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. “Thank you.”

Sensing her reluctance to dwell on the subject, William deftly shifted the conversation toward future plans. “So, what’s next for you here?”

Elena paused for a moment, a shadow of a familiar figure flitting through her mind. “Just taking it one step at a time,” she replied absently.

William took no offense, expertly weaving the discussion back to lighter topics. As they ate, the atmosphere warmed, their laughter punctuated with easy conversation.

Meanwhile, Clara Ainsworth struggled to keep up behind John Fairfax, who strode ahead with determination. She breathed heavily, cheeks flushed, and called out, “James Fairfax, wait for me!”

With a cool indifference, John arched an eyebrow in slight annoyance and halted his swift pace.

Clara seized the opportunity, racing to his side and playfully wrapping her arm around his. “You’re the best, James!”

“I have things to do,” he replied flatly, lifting his chin to suggest she hurry.

As they passed by Elena and William, Clara caught sight of them first and quickly entwined her arm with John’s, shooting Elena a triumphant look, brows raised in challenge. Her smile was a display of smug confidence.

For a moment, John stiffened at Clara's display. He glanced at Elena and William, who were engrossed in their conversation. Darkness flickered in his eyes.

The sight of Elena laughing with another man twisted something sharp inside him.

Elena’s heart dropped when her eyes landed on John and Clara. She hadn’t expected to see them here. Clara’s brazen display of intimacy made her stomach twist and her appetite vanish.

John instinctively grasped Clara’s hand, eliciting a bright grin from her. It was their first show of affection.

“Oh, look at you two,” Clara cooed, her eyes sparkling as she turned to Elena. “It’s been ages! Where have you been this past year?”

At the same time, William caught onto the tension and the subtle vibes between the trio. Pressing his lips together, he looked toward John and noticed the scrutinizing hostility directed at him.

A chill gripped William as he wiped the nonexistent sweat from his brow. “What kind of trouble has Elena gotten herself into?”

His questioning gaze landed on her, finding her sporting an effortless smile as she responded to Clara. “I didn’t do much. Just had some fun outside.”

William noted the casualness in her voice but also the way her fingers clenched around her utensils tighter with each passing moment.

Clara raised an eyebrow, sensing a change in Elena, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Before she could speak, John interrupted.

“Fun, or were you busy chasing men?” His rich, deep voice cut through like a knife.

Elena’s cheeks flushed with anger. “What are you implying?” she retorted, eyes narrowing at him.

John released Clara, taking a step closer to Elena, his intense gaze locking onto her. “What’s the deal, Elena? Can’t recognize your ex-husband after a night out?”

He leaned in, and Elena instinctively shut her eyes, turning away. But a mocking laugh met her ears, laced with sarcasm.

When she opened her eyes, John was smirking, an expression both infuriating and oddly compelling. Elena’s impulse was to glare back at him.

Clara stepped in again, wrapping her arm around John’s and leaning against him, softly caressing his cheek. “Elena, remember what I said a year ago? We owe you a debt of gratitude for leaving. Otherwise, James and I wouldn’t be this happy together.”

John flicked a glance at Clara but offered no rebuttal, his gaze continually flicking between her and Elena, lurking with unspoken tension.

Elena masked her anger, responding to Clara with a practiced calm. “Really? That’s lovely. Wishing you and…” she glanced pointedly at John’s brooding visage before brightening up again. “My former husband a lifetime of happiness.”

She lifted her glass of wine and drank deeply, fervently trying to suppress the pain it stirred within her. With a brave façade, she smiled, pretending nothing was wrong.

William, noticing her stubbornness, spoke up. “If you two have nothing better to do, could you please leave? We’d like to continue our dinner.”

Immediately, John and Clara's expressions darkened, dissatisfaction etched into their features. Seeing Elena smile at William ignited a deeper ire within John.

“You two on a date or something?” he spat, his voice tight.

As William opened his mouth to deny the insinuation, Elena jumped in. “Yeah, we are.”

She met John’s fierce gaze without flinching, conscious of the tension crackling in the air. His anger bore down on her, and though she felt panic crawl up her spine, she persisted.

Clara interrupted, her tone dripping with smugness. “So, you’ve got someone special now, huh, Elena? But honestly, I think James and I are still the standout couple.”

Elena took the bait. “William and I are doing great, too.”

As her words lingered, she noticed John's expression darkening further, every bit as intimidating. He fixed her with a stare that could pierce through steel.

Suppressing her unease, Elena forced her smile wider, feeling like she was tiptoeing through a minefield.

William glanced curiously but chose silence, studying the undercurrents swirling between them.

Clara clenched her jaw, irritated that Elena seemed unfazed. “How charming of you. Thank you for stepping aside; otherwise, James and I wouldn’t be thriving like we are.”

A year. Exactly the time since Elena had walked away.

John's hands curled into fists, his gaze still locked onto Elena, yearning for any sign of her response.

“When you guys get married, make sure to send me and John an invite. We can’t wait to celebrate!” Clara chirped with a mischievous smile.

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