Chapter 173 - 0173: You Leave This Marriage... You Lose Them

Chapter 173: Chapter 0173: You Leave This Marriage... You Lose Them

Graham’s Point Of View

I swallowed hard, my throat tight, feeling the weight of my mother’s and Lilian’s suffocating gazes pressing down on me from either side. "I’ll take care of you, Lilian. I’ll buy you a house. I’ll set up a massive trust fund for the baby. You will never want for a single cent in your entire life. But Elena stays here. With me."

Lilian’s mouth fell open, every drop of color draining from her face as if I’d backhanded her across the room. "Graham... you... you bastard..."

Even my mother stood utterly speechless, her usual impenetrable composure shattered into dust, her eyes wide with unbridled disbelief. The silence that followed was thick, heavy, suffocating... the kind of silence that presses down on your chest until your lungs threaten to collapse.

And then a heavy, rhythmic sound echoed from upstairs.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The scrape of heavy suitcases dragged across the hardwood floor of the corridor.

My stomach plummeted into a dark, bottomless pit. My breath caught in my throat as Elena appeared at the top of the grand staircase.

She looked small, but impossibly powerful. Her dark hair was slightly disheveled, but her posture remained royal, her eyes cold, clear, and completely devoid of the warmth that used to light up my entire world. She dragged two massive, overstuffed suitcases behind her, the wheels clattering against the marble steps as she descended. Clack-clack-clack.

Each sound was like a nail driven directly into my coffin. I remembered helping her pack for our honeymoon all those years ago, laughing as she overstuffed her bags with shoes she’d never wear, and the memory nearly buckled my knees before the present moment crashed back over me.

My heart didn’t just sink; it shattered.

She was serious. God help me, she was actually doing it.

This wasn’t a tantrum. This wasn’t a cry for attention. This wasn’t a game to get me to buy her flowers or apologize. She was leaving me, and some distant, rational part of my mind understood that she had every right to.

The realization hit me like a physical punch to the solar plexus. My knees buckled slightly, and I had to reach out to grip the wooden banister just to keep myself upright. I watched, frozen in pure horror, as she reached the bottom of the stairs and walked right past me without so much as a second’s glance in my direction.

The scent of her perfume... sweet lavender and bergamot, a scent I had hypocritically claimed to hate because it didn’t cost a fortune, lingered in the air behind her like the ghost of a life I had foolishly destroyed with my own two hands.

"Expect the divorce papers soon," Elena said, her voice steady, quiet, and terrifyingly final.

It wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. Each word landed like a razor-sharp blade twisting deep into my heart. She didn’t look back. She didn’t hesitate for a single second. She was completely, totally done with me, and the certainty in her voice told me there would be no negotiating this particular ending.

Lilian, seeing her entire golden future slipping away, lost whatever sanity she had left. She lunged forward, her face twisted in rage, her hands balling into fists as she shrieked at the top of her lungs. "You think you can just walk away like you’re the victim here?! You pathetic, barren creature! I am carrying his child! Do you hear me, Elena?! I am carrying Graham’s child! His blood is growing inside me!"

Something inside me snapped. The sheer, grating noise of Lilian’s voice combined with the terrifying reality of Elena walking away made my blood boil into pure, unadulterated fury.

I spun around and grabbed Lilian roughly by the shoulder, shoving her back away from Elena.

"Will you keep quiet?!" I roared, my voice booming through the high ceilings of the foyer like thunder, shaking the very foundation of the house. "Will you shut your mouth for once?!"

Lilian gasped, stumbling back into my mother, her eyes wide with terror as she stared at me like she no longer recognized the man in front of her.

"All you know how to do all day is scream that you are carrying my child!" I snarled, my chest heaving, my eyes wild, veins standing out on my neck. I pointed a trembling, furious finger straight at Elena’s retreating back, then brought my hand back to my own chest. "Elena is my wife! My wife! Do you hear me?! And nothing is changing that fact! She is mine!"

I turned my blazing glare back onto Lilian, my voice dropping into a dark, cruel, merciless register I barely recognized as my own.

"You are just carrying my child," I spat, laying bare the brutal, cold reality I had been hiding behind polite lies for months. "That is all you are to me. A surrogate. And once you deliver that baby, you will leave."

The words hung in the air, heavy, toxic, and brutal, and I felt no relief in finally saying them aloud. If anything, the sound of my own voice speaking such ugliness made me feel like a stranger in my own skin.

Lilian froze, her face going from pale to a ghostly, sickly white. She clutched her belly, staggering back as if she had been physically shot through the heart. "What?!" she screamed, her voice breaking into a high-pitched, hysterical shriek. "What do you mean by that?! Graham! What do you mean I will leave?! I gave you a child! I am supposed to be the new Mrs. Sinclair!"

"You will never be Mrs. Sinclair!" I shouted back, completely unhinged, not caring about the tears streaming down Lilian’s face, not caring about the scandal, not caring about anything in the world except the woman standing near the front door with her suitcases. "You deliver the baby, I give you your money, and you get the hell out of my life! Elena is the only woman who belongs in this house!"

"You bastard!" Lilian sobbed, sinking onto the bottom step of the staircase, weeping hysterically, her hands covering her face. "You promised me! You promised me everything!"

Elena hadn’t even flinched during my outburst. She stood near the heavy double doors, her hands resting calmly on the handles of her luggage, an island of composure in the middle of the storm I had created. She slowly turned her head, looking at the chaotic, pathetic display behind her... Lilian sobbing hysterically on the stairs, me breathing heavily like a madman, my mother standing frozen in horror.

A soft, sad, deeply pitying smile touched Elena’s lips. It was a look that shattered whatever remained of my pride. She didn’t look angry anymore. She didn’t look hurt. She looked like someone gazing at a pile of trash she was finally leaving behind for good.

"You really don’t get it, do you, Graham?" she said softly, her voice carrying effortlessly across the cavernous room. "You think you can buy everything. You think you can control people like pieces on a chessboard. You think you can treat me like a possession, use Lilian like an incubator, and still expect to have a home to come back to."

"Elena, please..." I stepped toward her, my hands raised in a desperate, begging gesture, all my arrogance completely stripped away. "El, please, don’t do this. We can fix this. I’ll send Lilian away today. I’ll put her in a hotel across the country. It’ll just be us. Just you and me. Like it used to be."

Elena shook her head slowly, a quiet, heartbreaking laugh escaping her throat. "There is no ’us’ anymore, Graham. There hasn’t been for a very long time. I spent ten years drowning myself just to keep you afloat. I spent six years breaking my own heart, thinking I was the broken one because I couldn’t give you a baby, when the truth is, the only broken thing in this house is you."

She gripped the handles of her suitcases tightly, her knuckles pale against the leather.

"Keep the house, Graham," she said, her voice dropping into a solemn, final rhythm. "Keep the money. Keep the legacy you were so desperate for. I hope it keeps you warm at night."

She turned toward the door, reaching for the heavy brass handle.

"Elena! No! Stop!" I lunged forward, scrambling across the marble floor like a desperate dog, reaching out to grab her, to touch her, to pull her back into my arms where she belonged. "Elena, I love you! I love you, please!"

Before my fingers could even graze the fabric of her coat, my mother stepped directly into my path, her face twisted into a terrifying mask of aristocratic rage and cold authority. She slammed her hand against my chest, using all her weight to push me back.

"Let her go, you sniveling coward!" Matilda hissed, her voice cutting through my desperation like a whip. She stood tall, her eyes cold, dark, and filled with a bitter, toxic triumph as she watched Elena pull open the heavy double doors.

I fell to my knees right there on the cold marble, my hands trembling against the floor, my eyes staring blankly at the shut door. My chest heaved violently, tears finally spilling over, burning trails down my cheeks. I had lost her. The only woman who had ever truly loved me for who I was, not for my money, not for my title, not for my name, was gone, and no fortune in the world could buy her back.

Somewhere in the wreckage of my mind, I understood that I would spend the rest of my life measuring every silence against the sound of her laughter, and finding it wanting.

My mother looked down at me, her shadow falling cold and long over my broken form. There was no pity in her eyes. There was no warmth. Only the bitter victory of a woman who had successfully destroyed the only good thing in her son’s life, and who seemed, in that moment, entirely satisfied with her handiwork.

And then my mom’s voice cut through the air, sharp and venomous. "I’m sure you know that as soon as you leave this marriage, you’re ready to lose everything you own."

Elena paused, her back stiffening, her fingers tightening around the handles of her suitcases. She turned slowly, her gaze locking onto my mother’s with a cold, deadly calm. "What?"

Matilda smirked, stepping forward, her heels clicking against the marble like a predator circling its prey. "Yes, darling." Her voice was smooth, cruel, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Those are marital assets. You leave this marriage..." She let the words hang in the air, heavy with threat.

She adjusted her pearls, took a deep, satisfied breath, and looked at the closed door, her voice echoing coldly through the quiet house.

"You lose them."