Chapter 2

• Zane sat down at the dining table, picking up his fork and taking a few bites before frowning.
• It wasn’t that the food was bad—it just wasn’t what he wanted.
• He had spent the night handling a deal in one of the city’s underground clubs, ensuring his product got into the right hands. A meal should’ve been the least of his worries, but everything annoyed him this morning.
• Caleb shuffled into the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. When he glanced at the clock, his face twisted in horror. "I’m gonna be late for school! Mom, why didn’t you wake me up?"
• No response.
• His frustration bubbled over, and with short legs charging at full speed, he ran toward the kitchen—only to crash into Martha.
• "Oh my, Mr. Caleb! Be careful! If I fall, it won’t matter, but if you get hurt, what do we do?"
• "Where’s my mom?"
• "She probably left for work."
• Caleb huffed, crossing his arms. "Oh, great! Since she’s not around, being late doesn’t matter anymore. Martha, I want an egg salad sandwich."
• "Got it, Mr. Caleb. I’ll prepare it for you."
• A few moments later, Caleb took one bite and scowled. "The egg salad tastes weird."
• Martha blinked. "No way. I just bought everything fresh this morning."
• "I want the kind we used to have!"
• "But the old one’s gone. Mrs. Carter used to make that herself, and I don’t know how."
• Caleb pushed the plate away, his appetite gone.
• Martha turned to Zane, watching as he set down his fork and prepared to leave.
• "Mr. Carter, wait!" Martha suddenly slapped her forehead. "There was a document for you on the dining table earlier."
• She rummaged through a drawer, pulled out a file, and handed it over.
• Zane frowned. He never left documents lying around. Could it be Serena’s?
• He took the file, flipped it open, and his expression darkened. Two bold words stared back at him—Divorce Agreement.
• …
• For the first time since her marriage, Serena had slept in without an alarm.
• She had spent years living on edge, waiting for calls in the middle of the night, treating wounds that weren’t meant to be spoken about, and stitching up men who disappeared into the shadows.
• But this morning, none of that was her problem anymore.
• When she finally got up, she found a neatly prepared breakfast and a note on the table.
• "Serena, everything will pass. Brighter days are ahead."
• Cora.
• A weak smile ghosted her lips.
• She and Cora had both grown up in the same small town, clawing their way through med school, but life had taken them in different directions.
• Serena had naively fallen for a man drowning in crime.
• Cora had taken the safe route—climbing the corporate ladder, making seven figures, and never looking back.
• Despite everything, their friendship remained unshaken.
• Just as Serena finished her meal, her phone rang.
• "Hi, is this Caleb’s mom? Caleb was late today, and since we didn’t see you drop him off, we’re just checking in."
• Serena’s tone was cold. "I’m negotiating a divorce with Caleb’s father. In the future, please contact him for anything related to Caleb. Thanks."
• "But you’re still Caleb’s mother—"
• "He’s probably getting a new mom soon."
• The teacher’s stunned silence was answer enough before the line disconnected.
• Serena exhaled, grabbed her coat, and hopped onto her electric scooter.
• She had never cared for luxury. The hospital was close, and in a city crawling with criminals, she’d rather slip through the streets unnoticed than sit in an expensive car that screamed target.
• By noon, she had finished a morning consultation and stepped out of her office—only to be yanked into the stairwell.
• Her pulse spiked. Before she could scream, a familiar scent of cedarwood and smoke washed over her.
• Zane.
• Her body tensed, but she forced herself to relax.
• "What the hell are you doing?" she snapped, yanking her wrist free.
• Zane’s face was unreadable, but the sharp glint in his eyes betrayed his irritation.
• "The divorce agreement," he said flatly.
• Serena’s stomach twisted. So, he had come home last night after all.
• She had told him she’d wait until ten.
• He hadn’t shown up.
• He never did.
• She lifted her chin. "So, you finally saw it."
• A muscle in Zane’s jaw twitched. He hadn’t thought she was serious.
• Every time he had come home late, she had still been there, waiting. Every time he had reeked of alcohol, gunpowder, or blood, she had looked the other way.
• She always forgave him.
• Always.
• "You want a divorce?" His voice was sharp, mocking. "Why?"
• Serena let out a bitter laugh. "You seriously don’t know why?"
• Zane stuffed his hands into his pockets and scoffed. "Because of a damn photo?"
• Serena’s stomach clenched.
• A photo. That’s what he thought this was about?
• The betrayal ran deeper than that.
• The endless nights he spent in dimly lit clubs, whispering to his men while Vanessa clung to his arm. The blood-stained money he stacked in their home. The countless times she had patched him up, only for him to go right back to the life that would kill him.
• And worst of all, the way he had once looked at her, years ago, as if she had been his salvation—only to throw it all away for a woman who had never loved him the way Serena had.
• Her fingers curled into fists. "Yes, Zane. Because of that photo."
• Because of her.
• Zane exhaled heavily, as if this conversation was a waste of his time. "You’re overreacting."
• "Vanessa was only thinking about Caleb’s well-being. He looked exhausted from all those extracurricular classes, so she suggested a break. That photo was just a mistake made by the photographer. Why make such a fuss over it?"
• Serena suddenly felt drained.
• She had discussed this countless times with Zane. Breaks were fine, but only after their son had completed his study tasks.
• Over the years, Zane had never been the one to take Caleb out to play.
• At first, he would brush her off with vague responses, but later, their discussions always spiraled into arguments.
• Perhaps he was reminded of those fights now, because his jaw clenched, and he scoffed. "I think you just don’t want Caleb hanging around Vanessa."
• Serena inhaled deeply, forcing her voice to remain steady. "That’s why I wrote in the agreement that I won’t fight for custody. I’m stepping aside for your perfect little family."
• She had already decided to leave a week ago.
• It had been Helena Carter’s birthday, an event that drew in some of the most powerful figures in the city—business moguls, politicians, and men whose fortunes were built on crime. Zane’s mother prided herself on maintaining strong connections, ensuring the Carter name held weight in both high society and the underworld.
• Serena had intended to attend, even prepared a gift, but a colleague had been injured, forcing her to step in for emergency surgery.
• Eight hours later, the party was already in full swing by the time she made it home.
• When Helena spotted her at the door, her expression soured instantly. "Why are you even here?"
• Serena had no idea how to respond.
• After years of tolerating this family, she had lost the will to fight back.
• So she simply handed over the pearl necklace she had prepared.
• Helena’s lips curled in disdain. "I already received better Tahitian pearls. Keep this for yourself."
• Then Vanessa appeared, linking arms with Helena, her apologetic smile barely concealing her satisfaction.
• "Sorry, Serena. I didn’t know you were planning to gift pearls, too."
• Serena was used to being overlooked, but Vanessa’s words twisted the situation—making it seem as if she had tried to outdo her.
• Zane, as usual, showed no interest in defending his wife.
• "Relax, it’s just a gift," he muttered, taking a sip of his whiskey.
• Serena felt something in her snap.
• It was never just a gift. It was never just a misunderstanding.
• It was the way Vanessa always managed to play the victim.
• It was the way Zane always let her.
• Vanessa pouted. "I shouldn’t have come. I must’ve ruined your family’s celebration."
• Helena’s scowl deepened. "Nonsense! You’re dearer to me than a daughter. I’d be heartbroken if you didn’t come!"
• "I’m just worried Serena will be upset," Vanessa murmured sweetly.
• Zane exhaled heavily, annoyed, before shooting Serena a sharp look.
• "If you’re not feeling well, you should’ve stayed at the hospital. Why insist on coming home?"
• Serena opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Caleb ran up—straight to Vanessa.
• "Vanessa, don’t go! Let Mommy leave instead—she’s so annoying!"
• The words slammed into Serena like a bullet to the chest.
• She hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t done anything.
• Yet, in that moment, she became the villain.
• Everyone hated her, wanted her gone.
• A long silence stretched between them.
• For years, she had begged for a place in this family. She had fought for it, endured for it.
• Not anymore.
• Her hands curled into fists, but her voice was as cold as ice.
• "Ms. Reid, don’t leave. If anyone should go, it’s me."