Chapter 6

I pulled the SIM card from my phone, my fingers steady despite the storm raging inside me.

Without hesitation, I tossed it into the airport trash can. Then, without looking back, I boarded the plane.

On the other side of the world, Atlas stood atop a secluded mountain estate, watching the sun dip below the horizon.

Beside him, Ivy smiled, her delicate fingers adjusting a loose strand of her hair.

Just as Atlas reached out to fix it for her, his phone rang. Annoyed, he pulled it out, his brows furrowing at the unfamiliar number. “Mr. Whitmore, your wife… she’s gone.”

His hand stilled midair. The warm glow of the sunset cast long shadows, but the sudden chill in his veins made him feel as if the temperature had dropped several degrees.

“Gone?” His voice was sharp, controlled. “What do you mean?”

The person on the other end hesitated, then spoke with clear apprehension.

“The nurses said she left in the middle of the night. And she left a document behind… You should see it for yourself.”

Atlas’s grip on his phone tightened. “What document?”

A pause—“a divorce agreement.”

The words landed like a physical blow. His chest constricted, his heartbeat a slow, forceful thud against his ribs.

He had to have misheard. Or maybe this was some kind of joke. Celeste wouldn’t do this.

Even if she was angry, even if she refused to apologize, she wouldn’t take things this far.

Beside him, Ivy’s expression flickered with something unreadable–something sharp and dangerous–but it disappeared in an instant.

sleeve, her voice soft with concern.

her?” she asked, tilting her head just slightly, feigning innocence. “Let me come with you, Atlas. Maybe there’s something I can do to

once before turning on his heel and

his face, his usual

fingers brushing

“I’m sure Celeste

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Love, Seven

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Chapter 6

her hands made contact, irritation flared in Atlas’s chest. His patience was already

he brushed her hands

“Enough,” he muttered.

stared at

her attention to her phone, sending a quick

reply came instantly. “Don’t worry. It’s been handled.”

the VIP hospital suite, the tension was

sat rigidly in his chair, his

a hospital lost a patient–let alone the wife of Atlas Whitmore.

open, the atmosphere dropped several degrees.

his presence casting a heavy weight over the room.

abruptly, wringing his

dangerously quiet, a sharp contrast to the fury simmering beneath

handing him a thin stack

gaze flickered down. The words stared back at him,

*Divorce Agreement*

his fingers as he flipped to the last page,

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