Jeremy's POV
I hate it. I hate that Audrey was the one who initiated the divorce. She thinks she can just… leave me? No. I won't accept that. A mere orphan walking away from me as if she has the right.
She was perfect once—sweet, devoted—until I caught her climbing into some man's car four years ago. Then she latched on to my uncle, wrapped him around her little finger. And now she dares to think she can walk away from me? From me?
The thought makes my jaw clench so hard it hurts.
"How dare you leave the house, Audrey?" I mutter, pacing. "No, that's too calm. You think I'll leave Adel because you put up a tantrum? Pathetic." My voice rises and drops again, desperate not to sound like I care, when every nerve in me is burning.
"She's at the airport, sir," Jason's voice cuts through my thoughts.
That's all I need. The words slam into me like gasoline meeting flame. I snatch up my phone. "Call the airport. I want the gates on lockdown until I arrive. No one leaves. No one dares let her board."
I don't wait for Jason to argue. I don't care about excuses or laws. My orders are final.
The car ride feels endless. My fists won't unclench. Every second, I see her—walking down the jet bridge, passport in hand, head held high like she's finally free of me. My throat burns at the image. No. She doesn't get to smile while leaving me behind. She doesn't get to win.
When the car screeches to a stop at the terminal, I'm already out, striding through the sliding doors, people scattering out of my way. My tie is loose, my coat half open. I don't care how I look—I'm going to find her.
And then I see her.
She's standing by the gate, security officers flanking her. She looks small but defiant, clutching her passport. For a second, she turns her head.
My chest tightens. She was really going to go. She thought she could disappear without looking back.
Not while I'm breathing.
Audrey Gillian is mine—and I'll burn this damn airport to the ground before I let her walk away.
Audrey's POV
Jeremy somehow found out I was at Kotoka International Airport. I should've known he'd never just let me slip away quietly. Still, when the flight attendant at the gate scanned my boarding pass and frowned, my stomach dropped.
"I'm sorry, miss," she said softly, glancing at her screen. "You'll have to come with me."
I froze. "Why? What's going on?" My voice cracked despite myself.
She didn't answer. Just gestured for me to follow.
This could only be Jeremy's doing. Only he would go this far—blocking an entire airport just to stop me from leaving. All for Adel. He'd do anything for her. Anything.
My heart pounded as they led me away from the gate. "Why am I being pulled aside?" I demanded again, my voice sharper this time. No answer.
Jeremy Gillian might think he's powerful, but he has no idea who I am. His so-called wealth is a drop in the ocean compared to the Shepherd Anderson legacy in Salvador. My mother built her empire at twenty, in a foreign country, with no help. I thought I could do the same. I stayed behind after school, calling my father "picky" because he never approved of my boyfriends. Now, all I wanted was to curl up in his arms and cry.
"It's just a small security check," one of the officers said, too casually.
I didn't believe him.
They led me to a private room—a small, cold cabin with no windows. They left me there without a word, my questions echoing off the walls. I pressed my palms into my knees, trying to steady my breathing.
"Jeremy Gillian," I whispered to myself, "I can't believe you've stooped this low."
The door creaked open.
I shut my eyes, biting back a surge of anger. I didn't have the patience left to deal with his groveling over Adel.
And then I heard his voice. Low, cold, unmistakably his.
"Do you really think you can just walk away?"
I opened my eyes. Jeremy stood in the doorway, his tie loose, his hair slightly out of place—his usual perfect composure cracked.
"Don't forget," he continued, stepping closer, "you signed a contract."
A bitter laugh escaped me. "A contract? You're unbelievable."
He ignored me. "You're just throwing one of your tantrums to get my attention. Well," his eyes darkened, "now you have it. Go back, handle the Miss Bosten issue, and I'll forget about all of this. And about the fact that you've been having secret meetings with my uncle."
My fingers tightened on my handbag. He still thought he could order me around like a possession. He still thought I was the girl who would take his scolding and stay.
Not anymore.