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

to her?” she asked, tilting her head just slightly, feigning innocence. “Let me come

turning on his

his usual

brushing against his chest in a

“I’m

22:33

Years of Love, Seven Minutes i

69.3%

Chapter 6

chest. His patience was already

sharp frown, he brushed her hands away.

“Enough,” he muttered.

car ride to the hospital was silent. Ivy stared at

turned her attention to

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

suite, the tension was suffocating.

rigidly in his chair, his forehead damp with

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

the door swung open, the atmosphere dropped several degrees.

in, his presence casting a

director stood abruptly, wringing his hands.

dangerously quiet, a sharp contrast to the fury simmering beneath his

director hesitated before shakily handing him a

The words stared back at him, stark and

*Divorce Agreement*

bit into his fingers as he flipped to the last page, and there it

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255