Chapter 69 The Height of It
The air between us felt combustible and every word we threw at each other only made it worse.
“You keep repeating the same thing,” I snapped, my hands trembling at my sides. “You did it for me, you did it to protect me... do you even hear yourself?”
“Elena, just listen—”
“No!” I cut him off sharply. “I am so tired of listening to you.”
He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing once like he was trying to physically outrun the argument.
“There was a man in this house,” he said again, like I was the one being unreasonable.
“Marcus Trent.”
“You’ve said that.”
“He tried to kill you, Elena.”
I laughed bitterly. “So my father just casually sent a hitman into my penthouse?” I asked mockingly. “Do you even hear how insane that sounds?”
"I fought him, that's why this place is a mess."
“You expect me to believe you’re suddenly my knight in shining armor?” I shot back. “After today?”
His eyes darkened.
“Your father sent him,” he said flatly.
I felt a flicker of doubt but I crushed it immediately.
“Don’t say that,” I said coldly.
“It’s the truth.”
“You don’t get to say things like that just to manipulate me into running off with you.”
He stepped toward me again.
“I’m not manipulating you.”
I shook my head. "No, you’ve been manipulating me from the beginning!”
The words slipped out before I could filter them.
His face went still. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Elena, no—”
“I married you under a contract,” I said, my voice shaking “But you made deals behind my back, and stood across that table and said nothing while they stripped me of everything.”
“So, you have no right to come in here and tell me who wants me dead,” I continued. “You don’t get to suddenly decide what’s safe for me.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but I didn’t let him.
“And don’t you dare say it was for me again.”
His lips pressed together. “You think I don’t see it now?” I said quietly.
“See what?” He asked lazily.
“You’ve always known too much.”I blurted.
His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
I took a slow step closer, my eyes locked on his. “It actually makes sense now,” I said. “The way you anticipated every board move. The way you predicted Richard’s tactics. The way you always seemed one step ahead...”
His expression shifted.
“You actually worked for Richard,” I said.
A beat passed.
“I know you did,” I pressed on. “Before me, before this marriage.”
He inhaled slowly. “That was years ago.”
“So it’s true.” I scoffed.
His shoulders tensed. “I only consulted,” he corrected carefully.
I felt something inside me splinter.
“You consulted,” I repeated. “For the man who has been trying to dismantle what I've built for years.”
“It was just business,” he said.
I stared at him in disbelief. “Business?” I echoed. “Is that what this is to you? All of it? So tell me, do you work for Damien too? Huh?”
“You’re twisting this.”
“No,” I said, my voice dropping lower. “I’m finally seeing it clearly.”
“Elena, I stopped working with Richard a long time ago. That has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with this!” I shouted.
The room felt smaller by the second.
“You knew their tactics because you were part of them,” I continued. “You stood there and took the reward!”
“I took the fall for you!” he barked.
“Stop rewriting the narrative!” I felt my body tremble.
His breathing grew heavier. “You think I wanted that seat?” he demanded.
“I think you’ve wanted power from the beginning.”
His eyes flashed with something raw.
“You really believe that?” he asked.
“What am I supposed to believe?” I shot back. “You lied to me about everything.”
He flinched like I’d slapped him.
“And now,” I continued, my voice trembling despite my effort to steady it, “you come in here claiming my father wants me dead.”
“Of course, he sent Marcus freaking Trent!” he insisted.
“And you expect me to just take your word for it?”
“Yes!”
“But I refuse,” I snapped.
Silence fell for a second. I was getting tired of arguing with him.
“You lied from the beginning,” I said quietly. “About Richard, my father, your alliances and even about your intentions.”
“Elena, I'm not your enemy,” he said.
“You were today,” I replied without hesitation.
He opened his mouth again, but I cut him off before he could speak.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I said firmly. “ decide what’s safe for me and march in here like some self-appointed savior.”
“Elena—”
“You lost that right.”
My words hung there.
“And if my father wanted me gone,” I added, my voice dropping to something colder, “I wouldn’t need you to tell me.”
His jaw clenched. “You’re being stubborn.”
“And you’re being manipulative, you know what, I'm tired of arguing with you.” I muttered dismissively.
“Elena, I’m trying to keep you alive!”
“And I’m telling you,” I said, staring straight at him, “that you are in no position to dictate anything in my life anymore. Don't you get it?” My voice dipped lower.
“You know what the worst part is?” I continued.
He looked at me like he was bracing for impact.
“I trusted you, Jack. I trusted you completely,” I whispered.
"Elena..."
“I defended you,” I cut in. “When the board questioned your sudden involvement right after we were married, when my father hinted that you were too ambitious, when people suggested you had your own agenda. But what I didn't know was that you conspired with them this whole time.”
“I didn’t—”
“You made me look like a fool,” I whispered. “Like some naive little girl who couldn’t see she was being maneuvered.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“It is,” I shot back. “You stood beside me knowing you had worked with Richard and my father knowing you understood their tactics better than I ever could. And you let me believe we were fighting together all this time.”
“We were fighting together, and I never used you...”
“But I was a pawn anyway,” I said bitterly.
He took a step toward me. “I agreed to sign that marriage contract with you because it made strategic sense at first instead of going along with your father's wishes, yes,” he admitted. “But it stopped being that.”
“Stop...” I whispered.
“Elena... This actually became real for me.”
“Stop saying that.”
And no, I won't fall for it.
“I can't because it’s the truth.”
“It doesn’t matter!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “It doesn’t matter if it was real for you if you still chose power over me.”
“No Elena, I chose leverage to protect you!”
The air felt too tight to breathe.
“This marriage is over,” I said again, slower this time.
His expression shifted from frustration to something closer to disbelief.
“Elena, we can fix this.”
“No,” I replied firmly. “You can’t fix a broken trust.”
He stepped closer again. “Just listen to me for five minutes.”
“No, Jack, I’ve listened for months—I'm done.”
Before he could reach for me or say another word, I turned sharply and walked toward my bedroom.
“Elena,” he called after me.
But I didn’t stop.
My hands were shaking as I pulled open the drawer where I had shoved the contract documents months ago.
We just had two months left for the final legal termination of the contract but I might as well burn it all down now.
I grabbed the folder and marched back into the living room.
Jack was standing exactly where I left him.
“What are you doing?” he asked warily.
“This,” I said as I opened the folder, pulled out the marriage contract, and held it up between us. “This is what we were,” I muttered.
“Elena, don’t—”
“And this,” I continued, my fingers digging into the paper, “is what it’s going to be.”
I tore it.
The sound was louder than I expected until I made it into small pieces falling to the floor between us like dead leaves.
“Elena, stop!” he barked.
“No,” I said coldly as I shredded the last section where our signatures had been. "Now, we're officially done."
Something pierced my chest but I ignored it.
Then I looked up at him and pointed toward the door. “Now, leave.”
His face hardened. “I’m not abandoning you!”
“You already did!” I screamed.
Something snapped in his expression and that was when he grabbed the wine glass from the table — the one he’d barely touched since I walked in.
“For God’s sake!” he shouted before he hurled it against the wall and the glass exploded with a sharp, violent crash.
I watched as wine splattered across the white paint like blood.
I gasped.