The Price Of His Betrayal

When The Sky Fell

Lena’s POV

The morning after the ball felt heavier than usual. The silence in the penthouse wasn’t peaceful—it was hollow, like the echo of something that used to be alive. I barely slept after our argument. Griffin’s words kept replaying in my head: “You can leave. Right now.”

But then there was that last part.

“The company is in your hands.”

And, “Let’s get married when I get back.”

I didn’t know what to make of it. It was reckless, confusing, and yet… it made my heart stumble in a way it shouldn’t have. I spent half the night staring at the ceiling, wondering if he meant it. Wondering if any of this meant something real to him.

When I finally stepped out of bed, the house was quiet. Too quiet. I checked his study—empty. His suit jacket still hung over the chair, papers neatly stacked beside his laptop. No sign of him anywhere. I walked through the hallways calling his name, hoping he’d appear from behind a door like he always did, wearing that tired smirk of his.

But he didn’t.

I found his secretary, Ethan, in the kitchen packing files into a briefcase.

“Where’s Griffin?” I asked.

He looked up, surprised. “He didn’t tell you? Mr. Whitmore left early this morning. His flight to Zurich was moved up. He didn’t want to wake you.”

I just stood there, frozen.

Didn’t want to wake me?

“He’s… gone?” I asked quietly.

Ethan nodded. “Yes, ma’am. He asked me to make sure everything at the company runs smoothly under your direction.”

The words hit me harder than I expected.

He trusted me. After everything—after our fights, after that night—he still trusted me with his empire.

A part of me wanted to be angry that he left without saying goodbye, but another part, a quieter one, was grateful. Grateful that despite the walls between us, he still saw something in me worth trusting.

The house suddenly felt too big, too still. Every corner carried his presence—the faint smell of his cologne, the untouched cup of coffee on the counter, the chair he always sat in by the window. I ran my fingers along the back of it and sighed.

“This place is going to feel empty without you,” I whispered.

By the time I got to Whitmore Corp that morning, I had pulled myself together. At least, on the outside. The building was buzzing, people moving quickly through the glass doors. Cameras flashed when I stepped out of the car. News of our engagement had already spread everywhere.

Inside, Ethan led me straight to the boardroom.

“Everyone,” he announced, “this is Mrs. Whitmore. She will be in charge of all major operations until Mr. Whitmore returns from his trip.”

The word Mrs. Whitmore echoed in my head. For a second, it didn’t even sound real. Everyone in the room turned to me and clapped politely. I smiled, trying to act confident even though my palms were sweating.

“Thank you,” I said, forcing steadiness into my voice. “I’ll do my best to keep things running as smoothly as he would.”

Before anyone could respond, the door burst open. A young man from the lower floor came rushing in, breathless and pale.

“Ma’am—Ethan—there’s been an accident,” he said, gasping for air. “Mr. Whitmore—he… he was in a car crash on his way to the airport.”

My stomach dropped.

“What?” I breathed out. “No—no, that can’t be right.”

Ethan froze. “Where is he now?”

“They took him to St. James Hospital. He’s in the emergency room.”

The room went dead silent. I didn’t wait for anyone to speak. My feet were already moving. I didn’t care about meetings, the press, or who was watching. I just grabbed my purse and ran.

The drive to the hospital felt endless. My hands shook on the steering wheel, my heart pounding so hard I thought I might faint. I kept praying under my breath, whispering, “Please be okay. Please, Griffin, hold on.”

When I finally arrived, I rushed through the doors. The smell of antiseptic hit me like a wall. I spotted a doctor walking out of the ER and ran toward him.

“Doctor! The man who was brought in—Griffin Whitmore—how is he? Please, tell me he’s okay.”

The doctor looked at me, confused. “And who are you to him?”

For a moment, I didn’t even think—I just answered from the only place that mattered.

“I’m his wife.”

He blinked. “Good then, Miss—”

“Mrs. Whitmore,” I cut in firmly.

He nodded slowly. “Alright, Mrs. Whitmore. Your husband is in critical condition. He lost a lot of blood and sustained head trauma. He’s in surgery now. We’re doing everything we can, but… we’ll have to wait and see if he makes it through the night.”

My breath caught. My knees almost gave out, and I had to grab the wall to steady myself. The words rang in my ears—critical condition. If he makes it through the night.

No. That wasn’t possible. Not Griffin. Not him. He was too strong, too stubborn to break like this.

“I need to see him,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, not right now. Please, wait in the lounge. Someone will update you soon.”

I nodded numbly, unable to speak. I sat down in the cold waiting area, my hands trembling on my lap. Everything around me felt blurry—the nurses talking, the phones ringing, the sound of someone crying nearby. None of it mattered.

All I could see was him. His face when he said goodnight. The way he looked at me before turning away. The sound of his voice telling me to run the company.

And now, I might never hear that voice again.

Tears filled my eyes, and I covered my mouth to muffle the sobs.

“Please, Griffin,” I whispered. “Don’t leave me like this. Not now. Not when I finally started to believe in you.”

The minutes felt like hours. Every time the ER doors opened, I looked up, praying it would be good news. But no one came for me.

Then, finally, the doctor returned. I jumped to my feet, heart in my throat.

“Doctor, please—tell me, he’s going to be alright, isn’t he?” I asked, my voice shaking.

He sighed, exhaustion written all over his face. “Mrs. Whitmore, he’s still in surgery. We’re doing everything we can. Just hold on.”

I nodded, wiping my tears. I didn’t care how long it took—I wasn’t leaving that hospital until I saw him.

But before I could sit again, a sharp, disbelieving voice came from behind me.

“What?!” the voice said, cutting through the tension. “That’s impossible!”

I turned around slowly, my heart skipping a beat.

And standing there, in the hospital hallway—was an unknown woman.

Her eyes locked on mine, cold and burning all at once.