REBORN TO RUIN HIM, CROWNED BEYOND HIS REACH

(Elara's POV) The paper in front of me looks the same, white, clean and final. My name sits at the bottom like a quiet accusation. Elara Quinn. My fingers tremble slightly as I stare at it, but not from shock, at least not this time. I’ve seen this before. Every word. Every line. Every cold, legal sentence that reduces a marriage into signatures and silence. “Sign it.” His voice is the same too. Flat and detached, like he’s asking me to approve a report, not end a life we built together. I lift my eyes slowly. Dominic Ashford stands across from me, tall, composed, untouchable as always. His suit is perfect, not a crease out of place. His expression? Even better controlled. Nothing about him says husband, nothing about him ever really did. In my first life, this was the moment my chest caved in. I remember how my hands shook harder than this, how my vision blurred, how I searched his face for something, anything—that said he didn’t mean it. “Are you really this desperate to stay?” he adds, his tone edged now, like my silence is inconveniencing him. There it is, the line that killed something in me. I inhale slowly, the air sharp in my lungs, because I remember what comes next. I remember signing this with tears in my eyes and I remember walking out of this house with nothing but a broken heart and a secret I didn’t even know I carried yet. I remember the rain, the headlights and the darkness. My hand tightens slightly on the pen and then I breathe out, but no tears and hesitation this time. “Not anymore,” I say quietly and for the first time, he looks at me, like he wasn't expecting that. I lower my head and sign, then I slide the papers back toward him without looking up again. “Have your lawyer send me a copy.” There's silence between us. I can feel his attention, hovering in a way it didn’t before. “You’re taking this… well,” he says after a second, like he’s trying to place something that doesn’t fit. I almost laugh, but I don’t, because this isn’t about proving anything to him, it never will be again. “I don’t see the point in dragging it out,” I reply, standing up. I turn and walk toward the door, my heels steady and my chest lighter. I don't regret it, because I already survived it once. My hand reaches the handle. “Elara.” I pause, of course he calls me now. I glance back over my shoulder, meeting his eyes. For a moment, there's something there, but I can't tell if it's regret or something else. “Yeah?” I say. He studies me like I’ve said something wrong, like I’ve stepped out of a script he thought I’d follow, then, just as quickly, it’s gone. “Nothing,” he mutters, swallowing the lump in his throat. I nod and this time, I walk out without looking back because I already know what happens if I do. The air outside hits different, it's a bit colder. I stop at the top of the steps, my fingers tightening around my bag as I heave. In my first life, this is where everything started falling apart. I remember standing here, shaking, barely able to see through my tears. I remember clutching the divorce papers like they were proof that I had failed at something I never even had a fair shot at. I remember thinking if I just held on a little longer… maybe he’d come after met, but he didn’t. A quiet laugh slips out of me now. God, I was stupid. I walk down the steps, steady this time, my heels clicking against the stone like a countdown I can finally control. I have no tears, at least I won't be dieing again after the brutal accident that claimed me the last time, I know better now. Suddenly, my phone buzzes in my hand. The sound makes something in my chest tighten for a split second, but I push it down and glance at the screen. Isabella. Of course, right on time. I stare at the name, my expression cooling. In my first life, I answered immediately. Eager. Desperate. Still calling her my best friend, still blind to the way she was already sliding into my place. Now? I let it ring thrice, then I decline it. The silence that follows feels satisfying, but not enough. I slip my phone into my bag and keep walking. This is where I would’ve gotten into my car, this is where the rain would’ve started and this is where I would’ve…. I stop. My breath catches slightly as I look up at the sky, it's clear and has no storm. My chest rises and falls slowly in a different way. Something changed, or maybe… I changed it. Either way, I’m still here alive and for the first time, I understand exactly what that means. It’s not a second chance to love him better, it’s a second chance to never love him again. My hand moves unconsciously to my stomach, it is flat, but my heart skips anyway. In my first life, I didn’t know yet. Didn’t know I was walking away carrying something that would’ve tied me to him forever, something they never wanted. My fingers curl slightly, a bit of smile leaving my lips. Just then, my phone buzzes again. Unknown number. I hesitate for a second before answering. “Hello?” There’s a pause on the other end, then a calm, unfamiliar voice speaks. “Miss Quinn,” the man says, precise. “We’ve been trying to reach you.” My brows draw together slightly. “Who is this?” “My name is Matteo Rinaldi. I’m calling on behalf of the Virelli family.” The world doesn’t stop, but something inside me does. Virelli. The name hits wrong and right at the same time, like a memory I never had but somehow recognize. “I think you have the wrong number,” I say, my tone cooling again. “We don’t,” he replies smoothly. “Your DNA results just came in this morning.” My grip tightens on the phone, this didn't happen the last time. DNA? “What are you talking about?” He pauses again, then he speaks. “You’re not just Elara Quinn,” he says. “You’re Elara Virelli.” My heartbeat stutters. “And the chairman would very much like to meet his granddaughter.”