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.

reached for his sleeve, her voice

just slightly, feigning innocence. “Let me come with you, Atlas. Maybe there’s

once before turning on his heel and striding down the mountain

onto his face, his usual controlled composure fraying at

fingers brushing against his chest in

“I’m sure

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Chapter 6

flared in Atlas’s chest. His patience was

a sharp frown, he brushed her hands

“Enough,” he muttered.

was silent. Ivy stared at him, unsettled. He had never rejected her touch

palm as she turned her attention to her phone,

came instantly. “Don’t

hospital suite, the

in his chair, his

day that a hospital lost a patient–let

moment the door swung open, the atmosphere dropped several

presence casting a heavy weight over

stood abruptly, wringing

voice was dangerously quiet, a sharp contrast to the fury simmering

handing him

down. The words stared

*Divorce Agreement*

the paper bit into his fingers as he flipped to the

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