Elara landed hard, her back hitting the ground first.
Cameras flashed wildly, capturing the fall from every angle.
She looked toward Julian instinctively. But his face was a cold, unmoving mask.
And in that moment, she understood what he wanted from her, and the realization stung.
He wanted her to speak for him. To tell the press it was all a misunderstanding. That Seraphina was ill, and he was only there out of concern. That it was kindness, not betrayal.
Clutching her belly, Elara lowered her head and let a faint smile cross her face.
The sky above was clear, sunlight streaming through the gaps in the crowd. But none of it reached her.
She steadied herself and slowly rose to her feet.
Then, without looking back, she said calmly, “I feel sorry for Miss Rivers. But that’s all.”
Someone nearby, oblivious, asked, “So, are you friends with her?”
Elara let out a short laugh. “Friends? No. I wouldn’t call someone clinging to my husband a friend.”
She turned and waved to Maya, who had just pulled up.
“Elara!” Julian called after her, his face flushed with rage.
But she didn’t turn around. She stood tall and kept walking.
Maya got out and hurried toward her friend, scoffing as they left, “You’d think they were the married couple confronting the home-wrecker. Absolutely ridiculous.”
Seraphina’s lips parted to respond. “You…”
But Maya cut her off before she could say a word. “What? Tell me I’m wrong. If you’re planning to use the press to scare me, go ahead. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
Seraphina’s face turned even paler, looking as if she might faint.
Reporters scrambled, their voices rising all at once.
Maya ushered Elara into the car, not sparing another glance behind them.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “She’s definitely faking it. I’ve seen enough of these cases to tell in a second.”
Elara gave her a small smile. “I’m not worried about her. I’m worried about you. What if this mess affects your job?”
At a red light, Maya grinned and nudged her. “Don’t forget my dad’s the hospital director.”
Elara raised an eyebrow. “The same dad you swore you’d never speak to again?”
Maya shrugged. “You never know when a connection comes in handy. Honestly, sometimes I wish all the powerful people out there were my dads.”
They both laughed, the tension slowly easing from Elara’s face. As the light turned green, the car moved forward again.
“I’ve got the afternoon free,” Maya said, stretching. “Whatever you need, I’m ready.”
Playing along, Elara turned to her with a sly grin. “Great. I need help with something.”
“What is it?” Maya asked curiously.
“Help me move.” She grabbed Maya’s wrist. “You can’t back out now.”
Maya groaned but gave in.
Before long, the two of them arrived at the house Elara had shared with Julian, along with a team of movers and organizers.
The house had been put together quickly after their rushed wedding.
Everything—the furniture and layout—had felt temporary at first. But over the year, Elara had made it a home, filling it with warmth.
At least, she had tried.
Maya directed the workers while Elara moved quietly around the room, her hands lightly touching every object. On a shelf, she spotted a bottle of Chanel No. 5.
The first gift Julian ever gave her. He had brought it back from a business trip.
He came straight to her from the airport.
He had pulled her into his arms, his kisses quick and urgent. They had been just like any young couple in love back then.
She opened the bottle and sprayed it once. The scent filled the room.
She remembered how he had kissed her lightly after she had sprayed it on her skin.
“Should I pack this too?” Maya asked, seeing the perfume.
Elara glanced over and shook her head. “Leave it.”
She slipped off the wedding ring Julian had chosen without much thought, placing it gently on the table.
But as the movers shuffled back and forth, she paused. Then, quietly, she opened a drawer and put both the perfume and the ring inside.
Soon, the house was cleared of every trace of her. Only that bottle and that ring remained.
Packing up had been exhausting, but once the decision was made, it happened quickly.
It was the same with her feelings.
The wind moved softly through her hair as the car headed toward her new place. Behind her, the mansion faded in the rearview mirror.
Sometimes, to move forward, one had to leave parts of oneself behind.
Elara had things to do.
The fall of the Vance family, the unanswered questions surrounding her father’s sudden death—she was going to find the truth.
Her life had always been shaped by the needs of others.
Now it was time to live for herself.
She decided to start with the music show. It would bring in money and, more importantly, might reconnect her with people from her father’s past.
She pulled out her phone, found the right contact, and typed her message. “I’m joining the music program.”
…
Seraphina was still crying.
Julian sat beside her, muttering words of comfort. But his thoughts were filled with the image of Elara standing with her back to him, saying those words.
She had known exactly what he wanted her to say. And she had chosen not to.
He had sent her message after message. She hadn’t replied to any of them.
She had been acting strangely lately.
The change in her was too sharp, too sudden. She was provoking him on purpose.
She had done it when they filed for divorce. And again at the hospital.
Julian remembered the look in her eyes the night before, when she asked if he had truly made up his mind about the divorce.
She had been sad but also calm.
An unexpected fear filled his heart.
“Julian, don’t be angry at Elara,” Seraphina said through tears. “I know she’s upset. After seeing the videos online, she must have come to confront us. And I understand.”
She burst into tears. “After all… I’m the one who took something from her. I’m taking six months from your marriage—what’s left of it. If she lashes out at me, I deserve it…”
As she spoke, she started coughing—violently.
A second later, she spat blood into her hand.
“Seraphina!” Julian jumped up, reaching for his phone to call for an ambulance.
As for Elara’s sudden change, he dismissed it as moodiness. In his mind, she wouldn’t dare walk away.
Seraphina reached out and stopped him, still smiling faintly. “It’s the cancer. It’s late-stage. This happens. Don’t worry.”
Her caregiver helped her lie back down.
Julian turned away, already planning to confront Elara. As soon as he left the room, Seraphina calmly wiped her mouth and pulled out a small blood bag hidden in her cheek.
She laughed. “What do you think he’ll say to Elara now?” she asked the caregiver. “I’m honestly looking forward to it.”
Then she began to go through the news reports excitedly.
The entire online community seemed to be against Elara.
“Seraphina didn’t even go for life-saving treatment—she just wanted pain meds. Elara really made a scene for no reason.”
“Seraphina’s dying, and Elara still wants to pick fights?”
“Mr. Croft and Seraphina look perfect together. Like a real power couple.”
“Elara’s fall was so embarrassing. I cringed.”
“Elara, just step aside already!”
“Elara, divorce Julian!”
“Yeah, divorce Julian!”
“Divorce!”
Seraphina chuckled as she read the comments. Then she sent a message to a contact and gave a few instructions.
“Today’s move was perfect. Keep the pressure up. Make sure Elara stays where she is—down. Oh, and find out why she went to the hospital today.”
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