CHAPTER 1 : THE ANNIVERSARY GIFT

Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, flashing like stars just out of reach. Classical music drifted across the ballroom, soft and distant—almost as if it belonged to someone else’s night. Evelyn Carter watched the city’s richest and brightest weaving under the golden lights, faces gleaming with practiced smiles. Tonight was supposed to be their night. She’d believed that. She really had. Now she stood in front of the giant mirror in the ladies’ lounge, pressing her trembling hand against her emerald dress, trying to smooth away nerves. She almost laughed at her own reflection—was this really happening? A little smile tugged at her lips. Seven years. That’s how long she’d been Mrs. Damian Black. Seven years loving him. Seven years sacrificing, scraping, believing they were building something nobody could take apart. She thought, no matter how hard things got, they'd make it. Her heart bounced with excitement, even after weeks of Damian being distant, busy with Black Enterprises’ anniversary plans. She told herself he was up to something romantic. A vow renewal, maybe. A surprise getaway. Or, she let herself hope, maybe even a baby announcement. The idea made her cheeks flush. They’d been trying for so long. She caught herself staring at her own eyes in the mirror, wanting so badly to look perfect. For him. Because even after everything, she was still wild about Damian Black—the man she’d believed in when he had nothing, the man she supported through double shifts and late-night takeout, the man she trusted with her whole heart. A server appeared at her side. “Mrs. Black? The CEO is waiting for you.” Her smile widened. “Thank you.” She walked toward the ballroom and the applause hit her like a wall. The place was packed—tycoons, investors, celebrities, journalists. Everyone who mattered was here. And at the center stood Damian: tall, sharp, dangerously handsome. The kind of man who only showed up on magazine covers. For a second she was just… proud. She thought about their tiny apartment, the overdue bills, the sleepless nights stretched out between them. How far they’d come. She met his eyes across the room, but something in him seemed off. No warmth. No smile. Just this cold detachment. A strange chill crawled up her back. Damian raised his champagne glass. The crowd hushed. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, the words rolling out smooth and deep, “thank you for joining us tonight to celebrate another successful year for Black Enterprises.” Polite applause. His eyes didn’t leave hers. He paused. “Evelyn.” Her name landed with a thud. She stepped closer, everyone’s gaze following. Her cheeks burned. Maybe he really did plan something sweet. Maybe all this worry was for nothing. She reached his side. Damian slipped a hand inside his jacket. The crowd leaned in—someone whispered, “He’s proposing again.” Nervous laughter bubbled up in her chest. Maybe he was. Maybe tonight would be unforgettable. But then he pulled out a thick white envelope. Her fake smile faltered. She recognized it. Dread pooled in her stomach. Damian pressed it into her hands. “Open it.” His voice had no emotion left. She opened the envelope, hands shaking. Documents slid out—the words stamped across the top clear and final: DIVORCE AGREEMENT. Everything just... stopped. The music, the chatter, the world. Her lungs refused to work. For a few beats she couldn’t think, only stand there, frozen. No—this had to be a joke, some twisted misunderstanding. She looked at Damian, searching his face. “What is this?” She could barely get the words out. He was perfectly calm. “It’s exactly what it looks like.” The words stung sharper than a slap. She gave a shaky laugh. “Damian, this isn’t funny.” “I’m not joking.” Now you could’ve heard a pin drop. Eyes and cameras everywhere. She gripped the papers, her whole body trembling. “What are you talking about?” “I want a divorce.” The sentence was a bomb, pure and simple. She stared at him, mind blank with shock. Seven years and he wanted to toss it away—here, in public? “Why?” Her voice broke. For a second she thought she saw something flicker in his eyes—guilt, maybe. But it vanished. “I don’t love you anymore.” The words shattered everything. Pain ripped through her. The party disappeared. The only thing that felt real was the man who was tearing her apart. “Damian…” She almost choked. “There has to be another reason.” “There isn’t.” His coldness scared her. Tears welled up and spilled over. “No, you’re angry—about something,” she stammered. “I’m not.” “Then why?” “Because this marriage is over.” Every word felt like a punch. The guests started whispering, a wave of gossip rising and spreading. Eyes bored into her skin. She wanted to sink through the floor. But Damian wasn’t done. He looked toward the ballroom entrance—and that’s when she saw her. A stunning woman with flawless features and a dress that cost as much as a car: Isabella Sinclair. Damian’s old flame. The one Evelyn had always feared. The one she never thought she’d actually see again. Isabella walked straight to Damian and slid her arm through his like she’d never left. Like Evelyn was invisible. Gasps rolled through the crowd. Evelyn felt her legs wobble. No. No, please no. This couldn’t be happening—not Damian, not the man who’d promised he’d choose her, every time. Damian turned to the crowd, voice clear and merciless. “I’d also like everyone to welcome the woman I intend to marry.” The room blew up—shock, excitement, cameras flashing. Evelyn could barely hear herself think. She blinked at Damian, then Isabella, desperate for someone—anyone—to say this wasn’t real. But it was. She saw it in Damian’s eyes. A tear slid down her cheek. Damian noticed. For half a second, his face tightened. Then Isabella leaned closer and whatever emotion he’d had vanished like it was never there. “Evelyn,” Isabella said, smiling with fake sweetness. Poison in her voice. “I hope there are no hard feelings.” Evelyn started shaking. Seven years—all of it—reduced to a cruel scene. Humiliated and replaced, divorce papers in hand, everyone watching. Someone snickered. Another voice hissed, “She really thought he’d stay with her,” and “She was never his type,” and, “Look at Isabella—she’s the one who belongs with a billionaire.” Every word sliced deeper. Evelyn wanted to scream, run, fight, demand answers. But her voice was gone. Damian stood silent, too. Not a single defense. He just watched her fall to pieces like she was nothing. And that’s when something inside her finally broke. Quietly, sharply, a wound that would never heal the same. She looked down at the divorce papers—the signature line waiting, like a death sentence. When she looked up again, no more tears fell. The grief, the heartbreak remained, but now there was something new—a coldness in her eyes Damian had never seen. “What if I refuse?” she asked, surprising them both. Damian’s jaw clenched. “You won’t.” “And if I do?” For the first time that night, he actually looked irritated. “Evelyn. Don’t make this difficult.” Once, he’d begged her never to leave. Now, he couldn’t wait to be rid of her. She nodded slowly, calm settling in. Numbness seeping through her bones. Maybe this is what happens when you’ve been hurt too much—you stop feeling at all. Damian offered her a pen, the crowd circling like sharks, hungry to watch her collapse. Evelyn stared at the pen, then Damian, then Isabella. Nobody moved. Nobody said a word. Finally, Damian spoke, voice cold as ice. “Sign them tonight.” Silence. And just like that, Evelyn realized—the man she loved was gone, lost to her forever. To be continued…