Chapter 3

Celeste's POV

Dr. Harrison exhaled and flipped to the last page, pointing at the signature line. "Just sign here, Mrs. Westwood."

Adrian's jaw unclenched slightly.

He snorted. "Finally came to your senses, Celeste. Look, once I'm back on my feet, I'll take care of you. But if you EVER pull this shit again—"

"Then let's do it," I cut him off. "Let's get divorced."

Dead silence.

"WHAT?!"

"You heard me. Let's get divorced." I looked straight at him. "You've been threatening it for years, Adrian. Since my attitude bothers you SO much—let's just do it. Right now."

"Are you OUT OF YOUR MIND?!" Adrian thrashed. The sheet jerked violently. Bianca screamed.

"Celeste, Jesus Christ, do you have ANY idea what you're saying?!" He was panting, voice cracking. "Without me, you're NOTHING! I'll make damn sure you don't see a single DIME!"

"Good," I said flatly. "Because right now? I don't want a damn thing from you."

"What about LEO?!" Adrian roared. "Huh? You gonna give up your son? You really think any judge would give him to YOU over me?"

Leo.

The name hit like a fist to the gut. My nails dug crescents into my palms.

Three days ago. Leo's fourth birthday. He'd woken up early, pressed his little face to the window. "Mommy," he whispered, "is Daddy coming home today?"

I called Adrian.

"It's Leo's birthday today."

"Yeah, I know." Impatient. Annoyed. Some woman laughing in the background. "My secretary sent something. Stop calling me."

The package arrived later. Beautifully wrapped chocolates. Imported. Expensive.

Hazelnuts. Almonds. Cashews.

Every single nut Leo was deathly allergic to.

Adrian had no idea. Never bothered to know what could kill his own son.

I was going to throw it away immediately. But Leo saw the box. His eyes went wide.

"Mommy, is this from Daddy?"

He held it like treasure, so carefully.

"Leo, baby, you can't have these—"

"Why?" Those blue eyes looked up at me, desperate. "It's his first present. Daddy's FIRST present to me!"

He started crying, clutching the box to his chest. "I won't eat them, I promise! Just please, please don't throw them away..."

I gave in. God help me, I gave in.

I locked them on the highest shelf. Thought they'd be safe.

But I underestimated a four-year-old's hunger for his father's love.

Three nights ago, while I was in the shower, Leo dragged over his little stool. Climbed up. Opened the cabinet.

Ate half the box.

When I found him, his face was swollen red, breathing shallow and wheezing. Eyes wide with terror.

"Mommy... I... I can't breathe..."

I grabbed him and ran. The ER. The tracheotomy. Me signing forms with shaking hands.

Then standing in that hallway, dialing Adrian over and over and over.

Forty-seven calls.

Not one answer.

Because he was too busy screwing Bianca on some mountain road.

"Custody?" I said softly, pulling myself back. Then I laughed—hollow, empty. "I don't want it."

"What did you just say?" Adrian stared like I'd lost my mind.

"I said, I don't want custody. Give Leo to whoever the hell you want. I don't care."

"You're fucking INSANE!" Adrian was screaming now, thrashing so hard Bianca shrieked. "Celeste, that's your SON! How can you just—"

"Because nothing matters now," I cut him off. My voice was dead. Flat. "None of it matters anymore."

"Mrs. Westwood, please, we really need to—" Dr. Harrison was sweating bullets.

"Relax, Doctor." I glanced at the door. "My lawyer's already outside. Should be here any second."

The door swung open. David walked in, briefcase in hand. He took one look at the bed and barely kept his face neutral. Pulled out a thick document.

"You sure about this?" he asked quietly.

"Positive. Do it."

He handed me the papers. I walked to Adrian's bedside. His eyes were glazed with pain, but he was still cursing under his breath.

"Adrian." My voice was ice. "Look at me."

He struggled to focus.

"This is a divorce agreement," I said, holding it where he could see. "And an asset transfer. Every share of Westwood Group stock you own, every property, every trust fund—it all goes to me. You get nothing."

"You're out of your GODDAMN MIND!" Adrian choked out. "Why would I sign this SHIT?!"

"Because if you don't," I said calmly, "I won't sign the surgery form. And in about an hour? They'll have to amputate. Piece by piece."

I paused, smiled coldly. "Unless you don't care. I mean, Bianca loves you SO much—I'm sure she won't mind if you're missing a few parts, right?"

Adrian's eyes burned with pure hatred.

"So sign it," I said, holding out the pen. "Or lose everything that actually matters to you."

Silence.

Bianca sobbing. "Adrian, please, God, I can't... I can't take this anymore..."

Dr. Harrison staring at the monitor, face pale.

Finally, Adrian's hand shot out. Grabbed the pen. His fingers shook with rage as he scrawled his signature, nearly tearing through the paper.

I knew exactly what he was thinking. Right now, nothing mattered more than his pride and his manhood. The money? He'd get it back later. Sue me. Intimidate me. Whatever it took.

"There!" He threw the pen at me. It bounced off my arm. "Happy NOW? Sign the damn surgery form!"

I took the papers, handed them to David. He scanned them quickly, nodded. "It's valid. Legally binding."

"Good." I turned to Dr. Harrison, who shoved the consent form at me like his life depended on it.

"Celeste, SIGN IT!" Adrian's voice cracked.

I took the form. Clicked the pen. Pressed the tip to paper.

The ink bled out. A small black dot.

Everyone stared at my hand. Adrian wheezing. Bianca's eyes shining with desperate hope. Dr. Harrison's hand raised, ready to signal the team.

All I had to do was write my name. One signature. Adrian gets saved. Goes back to being a billionaire, buying his way out of everything.

My hand stopped.

"What... what's wrong?" Dr. Harrison's voice was thin with panic.

"Celeste!" Adrian jerked his head up. "What are you DOING?! SIGN IT!"

I lifted my head slowly. Met his eyes.

God, this felt good. Having his life in my hands. Finally.

I stood. Opened my fingers.

The pen clattered to the floor. Rolled under the bed.

"You know what?" I said. "I changed my mind."

I looked down at them—at that pathetic white sheet covering their tangled bodies—and smiled.

"I think I'll let you two stay like this." I tilted my head, almost amused. "Honestly? It's perfect. This is exactly where you both belong."