Elara’s POV

The divorce papers looked exactly the same. White, clean and final. My name sat at the bottom of the page like a silent accusation.

Elara Quinn.

My fingers trembled slightly as I stared at the signature line, but not because I was shocked. Not this time.

I had seen these papers before. Every word, every sentence and every cold legal term that reduced three years of marriage into signatures and silence.

“Sign it.”

His voice was the same too, cold and detached like he was discussing a business contract instead of ending a marriage.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze.

Dominic Ashford stood across from me, tall and immaculate in a charcoal-black suit that probably cost more than most people’s yearly salary. Not a single crease touched his clothes. Not a single emotion touched his face either.

Nothing about him looked like a husband. Then again… it never really had.

In my first life, this moment destroyed me.

I remembered how badly my hands shook back then. How my vision blurred from tears as I searched his face desperately for something, anything—that said he didn’t mean it, anything that proved I mattered.

“Are you really this desperate to stay?” The words landed exactly the same way they did before, sharp and cruel.

Back then, that sentence shattered whatever dignity I still had left.

But now? Now I only felt cold. I inhaled slowly, forcing air into lungs that still remembered dying because I remembered everything that came after this.

Signing the papers through tears, walking out of the Ashford mansion alone in the rain. I met my end after I left the mansion, I'd never forget that.

My fingers tightened around the pen, then I exhaled. I had no tears and if he was expecting me to beg, that wasn't going to happen.

“Not anymore,” I said quietly. For the first time since I entered the study, Dominic actually looked at me like something about my answer felt wrong.

I lowered my head calmly and signed my name as the black ink spread smoothly across the paper without hesitation.

When I finished, I slid the documents back toward him. “Have your lawyer send me a copy.”

Silence followed immediately. I could feel his eyes on me now, sharper than before.

“You’re taking this… well.”

His voice carried the faintest trace of suspicion, as if he couldn’t understand why the woman who once clung to him was suddenly calm enough to walk away.

I almost laughed. “I don’t see the point in dragging it out,” I replied as I stood. Then I turned toward the door, my heels clicking hard on the floor.

Unlike him, I already knew how this story ended. My hand touched the doorknob.

“Elara.”

I paused. Of course he stopped me now.

Slowly, I glanced back over my shoulder and our eyes met. For one brief second, something flickered across his face.

Not love, I'm very sure of it. Dominic Ashford had never loved me, but something was there. Confusion maybe.

He looked as though I had stepped out of the role he expected me to play.

“Yeah?” I asked calmly.

He stared at me for another second, then his jaw tightened. “Nothing.”

I nodded. This time, when I walked away, I didn’t look back because I already knew what waited for me if I did.

Death.

___

The air outside felt colder than I remembered. I stopped at the top of the mansion steps, tightening my grip around my handbag as memories crashed into me.

In my first life, this was where everything began falling apart. I remembered standing here unable to breathe through my tears. Remembered clutching the divorce papers like they were proof that I had failed as a wife and as a woman.

I remembered thinking that if I just held on a little longer maybe Dominic would come after me, maybe he would stop me, maybe he would choose me, but he never did.

A soft laugh escaped my lips.

God.

I had been pathetic. I walked down the steps slowly, my heels striking against stone precisely. No tears this time, no shattered heart and definitely no dying again for a man who never looked back.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed inside my purse. The sound made my chest tighten instinctively and for one brief second, I was back inside that rain-soaked night.

I forced the feeling down and pulled out my phone. The screen lit up.

Isabella Laurent.

My expression cooled instantly. Right on schedule. In my first life, I would have answered immediately, smiling.

Still stupid enough to call her my best friend while she slowly stole everything from me behind my back.

Now?

I watched the phone ring up to three times, then I declined the call. The silence afterward felt satisfying but not satisfying enough.

I slipped the phone back into my bag and continued walking. This was the exact moment I would have gotten into my car.

The exact moment the rain would have started and the exact moment my life would have ended.

I stopped walking abruptly. My breath caught slightly as I looked up. The sky was clear. No rain or storm.

My heartbeat slowed. Something had changed. Or maybe, I had changed it. Either way, I was still alive and for the first time, I understood what this second chance truly meant.

It wasn’t a chance to love Dominic better, it was a chance to never love him again. My hand moved unconsciously to my stomach, flat and empty. Yet my chest tightened painfully anyway.

In my first life, I hadn’t known yet. Hadn’t known that I walked away from that mansion carrying his child. A child the Ashfords would never accept.

My fingers curled slightly. This time, I would protect them no matter what.

Buzz.

My phone vibrated again and it was an unknown number.

Frowning slightly, I answered. “Hello?” There was a brief pause, then a calm male voice spoke.

“Miss Quinn.” The voice was smooth. “We’ve been trying to reach you.”

My brows pulled together slightly. “Who is this?”

“My name is Matteo Rinaldi,” the man replied. “I’m calling on behalf of the Virelli family.”

My heartbeat skipped.

Virelli? The name felt unfamiliar and yet strangely familiar at the same time like hearing an echo from a life I had forgotten.

“I think you have the wrong number,” I said coldly.

“We don’t,” he answered smoothly. “Your DNA results came in this morning.”

I froze.

DNA? That never happened before.

“What are you talking about?”

There was another brief silence. “You’re not just Elara Quinn,” the man said quietly. My grip tightened around the phone. “You’re Elara Virelli.”

The world around me suddenly felt still at once.

“And the chairman,” he continued, “would very much like to meet his granddaughter.”

My breathing stopped because behind me, the front doors of the Ashford mansion suddenly opened and Dominic’s voice rang out sharply.

“Elara.”

I turned slowly only to find him staring directly at me, his eyes fixed on the phone in my hand, on the single word that had just changed everything.

Virelli.