"Divorce?" Bruce's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, his voice dropping to a threatening growl. "Elara, do you have any idea what you're saying?"

As the pain receded from its peak, I gradually moved toward calmness. "Yes, Bruce. Since you don't love me, and I no longer want to love you, let's free each other. You won't feel disgust or annoyance anymore, and you'll be free to find your true Luna."


Bruce looked genuinely shocked. He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, his powerful frame actually trembling.

I couldn't tell if he was furious or simply stunned that his doormat had suddenly grown a spine.

"Elara," he snarled, "you want to walk away after everything I've given you?"


"What exactly have I gotten from you?" I laughed bitterly. "Yes, you rescued me from that merchant, and I'm grateful. But everything I've endured this past year has more than repaid that debt. We're even, Bruce. We owe each other nothing."

Bruce stared at me as if seeing me for the first time.


I studied his face—that beautiful, cruel face that had once made me weak at the knees—searching desperately for even a hint of regret or affection.

But his face showed only confusion.

I laughed coldly. "I'll have the divorce papers sent to you."

With that, I turned to leave. I forced myself to walk slowly at first, but as the silence behind me grew heavier, my steps quickened until I was practically running from the room.

Back in my bedroom—our bedroom—I methodically began packing my belongings.

It struck me then how little I actually possessed in this place I had called home.

After gathering everything I could call my own, I couldn't even fill half a suitcase.

Night had fallen, but I couldn't bear to stay another minute. I grabbed my pathetically light suitcase and headed for the door.

I slipped through the silent house and made my way across the moonlit garden toward the main gate.

The night air bit at my skin with unexpected chill.

With each step, my body felt heavier, Bruce's words echoing in my head like a broken record. His rare moments of gentleness, his habitual coldness, his terrifying anger... and that damning word: "boring."

The world around me began to blur and spin. My last sensation was of the cold ground rushing up to meet me before everything went black.

I awoke to the sterile white ceiling of a hospital room, the antiseptic smell burning my nostrils.

Adam sat in a chair beside my bed.

"Madam, you're awake?" Relief colored his voice.

I tried to push myself up, wincing at the pain. Adam quickly moved to assist me.

"Madam," he hesitated, "the doctor examined you while you were unconscious and discovered... you're pregnant."

The world seemed to stop. I stared at Adam in shock, a strange buzzing filling my ears.

Pregnant? Now? Just when I had finally found the courage to leave Bruce, I was carrying his child?

My heart raced.

The news of this new life blindsided me completely. I felt neither joy nor sorrow—only numb disbelief.

I grabbed Adam's wrist with surprising strength. "Does... he know?"

Adam's eyes softened with genuine sympathy. "I haven't informed Mr. Castillo yet—"

"Don't tell him—" My fingers dug into Adam's wrist. "Please, Adam."

Adam studied my face for a long moment before nodding. "As you wish, madam."

At that moment, the door swung open and Bruce strode in. His eyes immediately locked onto my hand clutching Adam's wrist.

Adam smoothly extracted himself from my grip, stepping back with a respectful bow. "Sir."

Bruce's face betrayed a flash of something—anger? jealousy?—before settling into its usual mask of cold indifference. "What's the diagnosis?"

Adam replied carefully, "The doctor said madam is suffering from extreme exhaustion and requires proper rest."

Bruce approached the bed, looking down at me. "You'll come home and rest properly. I won't touch you until you've recovered." As if that was some great concession.

"That's no longer my home," I replied, my voice like ice.

Bruce's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "You," he barked at Adam, "get out!"

Adam hesitated, glancing at me with concern before nodding to Bruce and slipping out of the room.

The moment the door closed, Bruce seized my wrist with bruising force.

"Elara, don't push your luck!" His eyes flashed crimson, his face contorted with rage. "If you leave me, where the hell do you think you'll go?"

"I have two hands and a brain. I can go anywhere I damn well please," I shot back, meeting his gaze without flinching.

Bruce looked genuinely taken aback. "This isn't like you, Elara. If you just behave yourself, I'll give you anything you want. You'll always have your place as my wife."

"And endure your relationship with Katherine?"

Bruce's expression darkened dangerously. "I don't understand your problem. Whatever relationship I have with Katherine doesn't change the fact that you're my wife. You know perfectly well that my body requires yours."

I stared at Bruce's genuinely perplexed expression, suddenly struck by a terrible realization. He truly didn't understand why I wanted to leave.

"For you, our marriage is just a business arrangement, isn't it? You provide financial security, and I provide my body whenever you need it?"

"Isn't it?"

His matter-of-fact response was like a bucket of ice water.

"Yes," I said, suddenly bone-weary. "Then consider the contract terminated."