The Regretful CEO's Comeback

Chapter 2

The look on Seraphina's face could no longer be described as just unpleasant.

Not being able to stand beside Damian in the open, not being able to claim him publicly—that was the thorn lodged deep in her heart, all these years. Elodie had just yanked it out in front of everyone and held it up to the light. She hadn't only stabbed at Seraphina—she had humiliated her. Left her with nowhere to stand.

Seraphina sat frozen. She couldn't even manage a reaction before Damian shot to his feet in a burst of rage and kicked the chair back with savage force.

"Elodie." He fixed her with a look that could stop a heartbeat. His lips were thin, every word carved out cold and deliberate. "Get out. What we have is not what you think."

The sheer violence in his bearing made something deep inside her shrink back.

"Damian..."

Seraphina had never seen him like this. The shock registered on her face, but what hurt more was the way Damian had deflected—half-denying whatever lingered between them, even if his words came out sideways.

Everyone who knew Damian understood the basics. He had that cold, carved-from-stone look by default—silent and closed off, the kind of man who seemed to have a short fuse even though no one could actually say they'd seen him lose it. No one had ever really witnessed him angry. Not truly. He was, far more often, coolly composed, polished, elegant, a man who stood at a remove, untouchable and effortlessly poised.

But none of that version of him applied here. Not with her.

Elodie pressed her lips together. Every extra second she stayed in that room felt like needles pressing into her skin. "I won't keep you two from your quality time. Ms. Valez, get some rest. My lawyer will be in touch regarding the compensation."

Damian's dark expression didn't lift—not even after her figure vanished from the doorway.

Seraphina let out a tired sigh. "Elodie wasn't really wrong, you know. What we have... it isn't exactly right. I misspoke earlier. I should have been more careful with my words around her—more mindful in front of her."

"This has nothing to do with you. She's always been unreasonable—spoiled since childhood." Damian's fury had nowhere to go. He yanked at his tie, agitated, his deep-set eyes cold and hard.

Seraphina turned her lovely eyes toward him. Her lips parted around a word that never came. She swallowed it back down.

He caught the hesitation before she could hide it.

He saw straight through it. Damian pulled the ice back over himself. "What she said did remind me of one thing, though—it's time she stepped aside. That position—my wife—needs to be vacated."

Seraphina's surprise spilled over. "You mean... a divorce?"

He made a low sound of confirmation. He reached down and unhurriedly set the chair upright again. "Dragging out a marriage with no real feeling behind it serves no purpose."

The unexpected gift of those words rushed through her. But the joy didn't stay long on her face. Worry crept back in. "But your marriage had a contract. There are still two years left on it. If you bring up divorce now, won't that put you in a terrible position?"

"It doesn't matter. There's always a way."

Damian settled back into the chair. He crossed his legs with quiet elegance, his long fingers drumming a slow rhythm against his knee. Behind those sculpted features and that cold, detached expression, something was turning over in his mind.

Seraphina watched him. He looked so steady, so utterly composed. It only made him more magnetic.

She might have been a huge star, bathed in spotlight and adoration, but this undefined thing between them had never received any open acknowledgment from Damian. Seraphina had no solid ground beneath her feet. Behind her back, people still called her the other woman, the one who had pushed her way into someone else's marriage. The world didn't approve.

The simple fact of Elodie holding the title of Mrs. Waverly was enough to keep her pinned beneath that weight. But now, with those words from Damian, she could let herself breathe a little easier.

Elodie had barely left the hospital room before the police found her. They needed her to come in and cooperate with the investigation.

By the time she finished giving her statement and walked out of the station, darkness had settled over the city.

The whole sprawling expense of Evermont City—its glamour and its rot—was stirring awake under the wash of evening lights, like some enormous beast slowly opening its eyes.

Elodie stood at the curb waiting for a cab. Her phone rang inside her bag.

The call was from Vita Private Clinic. Dr. Callum Voss, her grandmother Beatrice Parker's physician. "Ms. Mercer, how are things coming along with the funds for Beatrice's surgery?"

Her mind flashed back to that hospital room, to the words she had flung at Seraphina and Damian. Now reality crashed back down on her, and she understood with painful clarity that she had been young and reckless. If she had just swallowed the injustice, just let Seraphina pin the whole thing on her, maybe, for the sake of their contract marriage, Damian might have lent her enough money to cover Beatrice's operation.

The weight in her chest made it hard to breathe. "Dr. Voss, is there any way you could go ahead with my grandmother's surgery first? I'm still pulling the money together. I'll pay in full the moment I have it."

"It's not that I'm unwilling—the hospital has its policies. Beatrice needs coronary bypass surgery. The materials are all top-tier imports. If you don't pay upfront, we can't order them. And without them, we can't operate."

The surgery alone would run close to 200,000. And that number didn't include the postoperative care and observation.

The savings Elodie had scraped together after graduation had long since gone into buying her car, the very car she had nearly hit Seraphina with earlier that day. She had planned to sell it. That would have gotten her around 120,000. Add in what she could borrow, and the whole problem would have sorted itself out.

But now the car was impounded by the police. She couldn't touch it. And the people she could still ask for money, if she swallowed every last shred of pride, might get her to 100,000 at best.

She tried a different approach. "What if I put down half the payment first? Would that work?"

"Ms. Mercer, I understand you're not long out of university. A sum like this is a lot to shoulder. Have you considered moving Beatrice to a cheaper hospital?"

"No!"

The decision to have Beatrice's surgery at Vita Private Clinic had been made precisely because of their expertise in this area.

Elodie's brow furrowed. She bit down hard on her lip. "Just give me a little more time. I'll have the money soon. In the meantime, don't stop my grandmother's medication. I'll come by the hospital tomorrow and pay whatever I can upfront."

"Then try to move quickly. Beatrice is elderly. This surgery can't be put off much longer."

The call ended. A taxi pulled up right in front of her.

Elodie's hand closed around the door handle. She pulled it open and was about to duck inside when something flashed through her mind. She stopped. She pushed the door shut again. "Sorry. I won't be needing the ride."

The driver muttered something and pulled away.

Elodie pressed her lips together. She turned around without a second thought and started walking toward the metro station, 800 meters away.

Evermont City sprawled across a massive stretch of land, divided into several districts. Crestwood Hills sat squarely in the wealthy quarter. Cabs rarely passed through. The bus routes didn't exactly bend toward the villa-lined roads of Crestwood Hills either.

Elodie rode the metro for more than a dozen stops before she reached the station nearest to the estate. After that, there was nothing left but her own two feet.

She had never noticed it when she was behind the wheel, driving in and out as she pleased. Now, actually walking it, she understood just how long and endless that road home really was.

She didn't let herself stay idle the whole way. She made every call she could think of, dialing every number that might lead to borrowed money, and talked herself raw. The result was exactly what she had expected.

100,000. That was the absolute ceiling of what she could borrow.

And that was only half of what the surgery would cost.

Elodie lifted her gaze, helpless, toward the cluster of lavish, sprawling villas in the distance. The bitterness rose in her throat until she could almost taste it.

'Living in the richest house, pinching pennies just to survive. That's me, isn't it?'

A self-mocking smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. The tightness in her chest was still building when a perfectly timed gust of wind swept down the road, kicking up dust straight into her face. Her hair whipped around her head, tangled across her eyes, and she got a solid lungful of grit for her trouble.

Elodie stood there, a complete mess, and glanced instinctively toward the black sedan that had just roared past. She froze.

'That license plate. That's Damian's car, isn't it? He doesn't live here. What's he doing driving this way?'

Her heart gave an uneasy lurch. A nameless sense of dread settled into her stomach.

Whatever had brought Damian here this time, it wasn't going to be anything minor.