The air outside the hospital was filled now with the scent of the droplet of rain.
My head was spinning, and my hands quavered as I pushed through the crowd of reporters gathering near the entrance.
The last thing I wanted was another camera flash, another scandal to feed on my name.
I had barely stepped onto the curb when a sleek black car pulled up in front of me.
The back door opened, and a familiar voice called out softly, "Mrs. Brooks, please get in."
I froze at once, seeing it was Leo, Ehan'd assistant, always polite, but his expression tonight was cold.
"I am not going anywhere with you," I said, clutching my bag tighter. "Tell your boss I am done being part of his games."
But he didn't move. "He insisted, ma'am. It's not safe here. The reporters are spreading the story already."
"I said no."
Just then behind me, a cluster of hospital security guards stepped out, their eyes flicking between me and the car.
Leo gave them a small nod and one that spoke louder than any words.
They instantly surrounded me. I swallowed hard, my pulse stuttering.
"You can't just…"
"Please, ma'am," he spoke, but I didn't miss that warning tone beneath it. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be."
For a moment, I wanted to scream, but the cameras had already turned toward me again, flashes breaking through the drizzle. I couldn't afford another scene.
So I did the one thing I promised myself I would never do again. I obeyed and got inside the car.
The car door shut behind me, sealing me into a space that smelled faintly of leather and memory. I could feel him before I saw him, of course he had the presence, which tells he is around the environment.
He was sitting in the corner seat, one arm resting lazily on the backrest, eyes watching me through the low light.
"Hello again, wife," he let out. My heart skipped a beat. I quickly controlled myself.
"You really are insane."
"Probably," he said. "But then again, you knew that before you married me."
He smiled, and it wasn't the warm kind I remembered. It was the kind that knew exactly how much power it held.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice trembling despite myself.
"Doing what? Picking you up from the chaos you created? Cleaning up the mess before your new boyfriend has to explain to the press why his fiancée's ex-husband still has her last name on file?" I glared at him.
"You don't own me, Ethan." He tilted his head slightly, eyes glinting. "Legally, I still do."
My chest tightened. "That's not true. I signed the divorce papers."
"Yes," he said, his smile deepening. "You did, but it was never finalized."
My stomach dropped. "You bastard!"
He leaned closer, his breath brushing my skin, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of cedar and rain on him.
"You really should start reading before you sign things, Eva. It's a dangerous habit to trust blindly."
The city lights blurred past the windows, a dizzying stream of gold and gray. Only then did I realize that we weren't heading toward my apartment.
"Where are you taking me?"
"Home," he said simply, my eyes widened at this.
"That's not my home." His gaze caught mine. "It was and it still is."
I shook my head. "Ethan, stop the car. I am serious."
He didn't move or speak but only watched me, as if waiting for me to remember something I was trying desperately to forget.
When the car finally slowed, I looked out the window and felt my stomach twist.
His mansion stared right at me, the place I once thought was a palace until it became a prison.
"No," I whispered. "Take me back."
Ethan stepped out first, his hand resting on the open door as he looked down at me. "You really think I would let you walk away twice?"
I hesitated before responding. "You can't keep me here."
"Watch me." He then reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone typing something on it before looking back at me. "Or maybe Henry would like to see this instead?"
He turned the screen toward me. It was my reflection in the car window, tear-streaked, fragile, sitting beside him.
"You wouldn't," I barked out with my eyes wide open.
"Try me," he replied, his tone calm, almost gentle. "The media already thinks you are tangled between two men. I wonder what your fiancé would do if I handed him proof that you ran straight into my car after leaving his hospital room."
I couldn't speak, but could only come out with broken breath.
"Fine," I said. "I will go inside but this changes nothing."
He held the door open for me like a gentleman escorting his bride. "We will see."
I pushed him out of the way and stepped out of the car, storming into the mansion.
Inside, the mansion looked almost the same, the air smelled of the faint scent of roses from the garden I once tended. It makes me wonder if my garden is still there.
I turned to face him, not in the mood for all this, "I want the divorce finalized." He arched his brow. "Do you, now?"
"Yes…. Whatever game this is, it ends tonight."
He said nothing, only walked toward his desk and opened a drawer. The sound of paper sliding against wood filled the silence. When he turned back, he was holding a familiar folder.
"Then read," he said, placing it on the table.
I frowned, flipping it open. The first few pages were the same legal jargon I had seen before until my eyes caught the clause written in fine print at the bottom.
If either party initiates a unilateral dissolution of marriage before the fulfillment of contractual obligations, said party will incur a penalty fee of one hundred million dollars to be paid within thirty days of notice.
My blood ran cold instantly.
"This is a joke."
"Well… I see a contract, Ethan fired back at me. "The one you signed."
I looked up at him, my voice shaking. "I don't have that kind of money."
"I know." He smiled slowly, cruelly, and heartbreakingly calm. "Which means you don't have a divorce, either."
Tears stung my eyes as the realization dawned on me. "You planned this."
He stepped closer, his hand brushing the edge of the table, eyes never leaving mine. "I planned to keep what was mine and you just made it easier."
"You can't trap me like this, Ethan."
His gaze softened, but his voice didn't. "I am not trapping you, Eva. I am giving you a choice. Stay and make this marriage worth something… or walk away and spend the rest of your life paying for it."
"You are a monster." I cried out.
"Maybe," he murmured, "but I am your monster."
He leaned closer, his words barely above a whisper. "Welcome back home, Mrs. Brooks."