Diana took a deep breath, her back pressed hard against the door as Carla watched her like a hawk.

“So you want to work?” Carla asked gently, as if telling her to think this through.

Diana stared at her, trying to calm down from the betrayal. She knew how tough it will be winning a case against James Hartway, a billionaire who had posed as the perfect husband to the public.

Also getting a divorce won’t be easy due to the financial aspect involved.

James gave her a monthly allowance of $20000 dollars monthly and she had always been saying $15000 in a locked account. James never asked her what she was using money for so it made saving easier.

Her hands trembled as she paced the room. “I have some savings, Carla. I’ll depend on that for now while searching for a job.”

“It’s not so easy, di.”

“I know, but I need to try. I just can’t stay here. I can’t.”

A surprised Carla heaved a deep sigh, “I still can’t believe James could stoop so low. I mean with his secretary? That’s ridiculous.”

Diana bit her lower lips, fighting back the tears that had pooled at her eyes. It still felt like a dream to her. Her perfect marriage of 3 years going down the drain all thanks to her husband’s infidelity and betrayal.

“You can stay with me for the meantime actually.”

“Oh Carla,” Diana whispered, hugging her. “You are such a great human. What would I have done without you.”

“Oh common, you do not deserve this betrayal di. I’ll always have your back.”

Diana and Carla discussed about her plans and after Carla left, she felt relief flood over her. She walked into their bedroom, took a long look and pulled out her suitcase then started packing.

As she packed, her eyes fell on the framed photograph they had taken on their honeymoon during winter.

The photo brought back painful memories and sweetness which left her nauseous. How could she be so stupid to not see through his schemes?

She stared down at her finger and on it was her ten thousand dollar diamond wedding ring, shining brightly, a stark contrast to the darkness looming all over her heart.

Tears dropped down her face, dropping on the dresser and with trembling hands, removed the ring and placed it inside his side of the wardrobe then went back to packing.

Halfway through, the roaring engines of james Mercedes benz echoed through the mansion. Diana quickly put the suitcase away. James mustn’t know she’s packing, not yet.

The door swung open and james walked in with a bouquet of red roses, her favorite, and placed them on her palms, sweeping her up.

“Once again, sorry for not coming home on your birthday night.”

Diana forced a smile. Before, she would have fell into his arms, kissed his neck and praised him for being the perfect husband but this time, his presence alone made her sick.

“Thank you,” she muttered, placing the rose on the bed. Her nose caught an unfamiliar scent, she nearly puked. Images of him sucking Erica’s breasts flooded her mind again and she pushed him away gently.

“What’s wrong, Diana?” James asked, touching her forehead.

“I’m fine, just a fever.”

“Then let’s go to the doctor…”

His pretentious care and concern was already getting on Diana’s nerves. She gently took his hands off her body and walked to the bathroom. “I need to take a shower.”

She could feel James’ eyes on her as she turned and walked away. Once inside the shower, she scrubbed her skin till bruises appeared, washing off the unfamiliar scent he came home with.

Sitting in the shower, staring blankly at the wall, Diana couldn’t help but think about the moments James had been her safest haven. Now all she felt was disgust.

“Are you done showering, sweetheart?” James voice came through, making Diana’s muscles tensed.

“Almost.” She turned off the shower, wrapped the towel around her chest and walked out drying her hair.

“You look breathtaking, Diana. Why don’t we have some hot sex right now?”

Sex? Diana’s heart skipped a beat. She resisted the urge to lash at him and tell him to take his filthy public penis away from her. “Not now, James. I’m tired.”

“Didn’t you miss me?” James flirted, wrapping his arms around her waist, his chest pressed against her back.

“I said, not now James. Please.” Her voice sounded hollow. She just wanted to be far away from him, to stop perceiving that unfamiliar scent.

James didn’t push further. Just kissed her forehead and went into the shower.

Diana noticed he was taking too long but she cared less. She soon heard someone trying to stifle a moan. She tiptoe to the bathroom which was covered in steam but she still could see what was going inside.

On the glowing screen of his phone was the photo of Erica fully named and james on the other hand held his penis with one hand stroking it, the other on the wall, moaning.

“Yessssssss, yess Erica.”

Her body went rigid as she watched him stroke his cock to orgasm and after he was done, kissed the photo on the screen.

Diana wobbly walked back and fell on the bed, disgust crashing through her entire body.

“You’ll pay for everything, James.” She muttered, her eyes burning with tears.

Chapter 3 “Diana darling,” James voice cut through the silence the following morning during breakfast, his fingers on the cutleries. “My family company is organising a dinner party to mark the company’s tenth year anniversary, you should come.”

Diana dropped her cutlery midway and stared at her food like it was something alien. James had never invited her to anything before regarding his family. He had always insisted it was a trouble and wouldn’t want her to go through such stress.

“Do I really have to come? I mean… you’ve never invited me to any family event before, so….”

“Diana,” james smiled, taking her hand. “I just didn’t want you to go through stress but I feel you will be bored when im away…”

“Hmm, bored.” Diana whispered. James can’t know of her plans to leave, not yet. So that means she still has to act the cool wife and do his bidding.

Diana nodded. “No problem. We’ll go. When is it?”

“Perfect.” James clapped, kissing her hand. “We leave by 2pm.”

2pm came and they both soon arrived at the Hartway’s prestigious mansion. James’ hands wrapped around her waist, his other hand carrying her bag like the perfect husband he was portrayed to be. Diana was sick and couldn’t wait to be away from his and his gimmicks.

Everyone in the family welcomed James but Diana didn’t fail to see the distasteful look on her in-laws’ faces. She was used to the condescending looks and awful comments.

“Look who finally showed up,” Madam Margaret, Diana’s mother-in-law sneered. “So you still know the route to this mansion.”

Diana didn’t say a word but she didn’t fail to notice a pair of brown eyes staring right at her. James seemed to notice too and took her hand asserting dominance. “Good day, Uncle Max.”

Max scoffed, shrugged his shoulders and walked away. He was madam Margaret’s youngest brother and the first billionaire of the family.

Older than James with five years, they had always been rivals due to james nasty attitude and reckless life and maxwell had always made sure james knew to keep off.

“Pay him no attention. That’s my uncle Maxwell. Just older than me with six years old yet acts like he’s some big guy.” James hands wrapped around Diana’s wrist. “Just stay off his lane.”

Diana was left all alone through out the dinner. Her eyes searched around the elegant mansion for James but he was nowhere to be seen.

‘The number you have dialled is not reachable…’ was the response she got every time she dialed his number.

She stared at the last message he had sent before disappearing: Urgent work, see you later, Diana.

Diana’s cheek burned with anger. She sipped the wine slowly while gazing around the mansion like some stranger.

An hour passed by and James was still not back. Diana felt it was time to go home and he had the car keys with him. She stood up decisively, and searched around the house whispering his name.

“When are you going to tell her james?” Diana stopped in her tracks the moment she heard this coming from the guest room on the right wing of the mansion. She placed her ears to the walls gently, listening.

“She doesn’t have to know, Erica.”

Know what? Diana felt a surge of anger rush over her. A part of her wanted to push the door open and finally confront them but another part wanted to listen to the entire conversation and get the whole talk.

“What if she finds out about the court wedding?”

“finds out?” James scoffed. “Oh common, Diana is so naive she wouldn’t figure out a thing.”

Diana grabbed her gown tighter as she listened to their conversation, hot tears pooling at her eyes. The thought of James making nasty remarks about her to his mistress made her sick.

“Enough of Diana, let’s have some fun together.”

Diana peeped through the door left slightly ajar. James was bare chested and his trousers were unzipped. Erica was sitting on his waist, her hands caressing his nipples.

Diana’s knees went weak at the scene. James had left her all alone under the pretense of work only to find him entangled with his mistress or rather his new wife.

Everything made Diana sick. She placed her palms flat on the wall steadying herself as the faint sounds of James groans and Erica’s moans filled her ears.

“If I were you, I won’t be listening to that…”

Diana turned immediately to find Maxwell standing with his legs crossed and right arm against the wall smirking.

“Get away from me.” Diana took several steps back trying to hide her smudged mascara but Maxwell only smiled and handed her a tissue.

“Thank you,” she murmured, taking the tissue from him and trying hard not to break in his presence.

She started to walk away briskly but stopped dead in her tracks as she heard the loud bang of a door being pushed down.

“Uncle Maxwell… what the hell?” She heard James’ voice. Maxwell had pushed the door down and dragged James out by the collar punching his face.

“You left your wife out there only tk come here frolicking with this cheap whore.” Maxwell deep voice vibrated around the room as he landed another punch on James’ face.

“It’s none of your business…” James grunted from pain, trying to dodge another punch. By now, the whole family had gathered and not even a single person had anything tangible to say to Diana.

She turned to catch a glimpse at James who looked horrified. “Diana, please wait…” but he didnt finish the sentence before Maxwell landed another punch on his already bruised and swollen face.

“Thats enough,” madam Margaret shouted, separating her brother and son. “How dare you hit him like this, Maxwell?”

Madam Margaret casted a disdainful look at Diana and sneered, “James has every right to be with whoever he wants to be with.”

That was the final statement that gave Diana the cue that she was never wanted in this family. She turned and walked away ignoring the tears that fell and soaked her gown.

As soon as she stepped outside the Hartway’s mansion, she took a long deep breath as the scent of rain hit her nose. She didn’t bother to run away from it or hail a cab but stood and allowed the heavy rain soaked through her shirt and messed up her perfectly made hair.

“You’ll get a cold standing in the rain.” Diana turned to look at the intruder and was met with Maxwell’s sharp, piercing, brown eyes.

She was trying to protest when her entire legs grew weak. But before she landed on the ground, a strong pair of arms suddenly held her.

Maxwell’s first instinct when he saw his nephew’s wife standing with her ears pressed against the wall, listening to her husband and his mistress, was to just walk past like he hadn’t seen a single thing.

He had always minded his business. Always. But something nailed his feet to the ground and refused to let him move.

He knew that look on her face. The trembling jaw. The wide, glassy eyes trying so hard to hold everything in. The way her fingers pressed flat against the wall like she needed it to keep her standing. He had worn that exact same expression once. A long time ago. In a different hallway. With a different woman.

Maxwell exhaled slowly through his nose. He had loved a woman once. Fiercely. The kind of love that made a man stupid and blind and reckless. She had taken every single piece of him and quietly handed it all over to someone else while smiling in his face. He had found out the same way — stumbling into a truth he never went looking for.

It had nearly broken him.

He watched Diana from a few steps away, his jaw tightening as the sounds from beyond the door became impossible to ignore. His hand curled into a fist at his side. He had always known James was reckless. Known he was selfish and arrogant and lived his life like the rules that governed decent men didn’t apply to him. But bringing his mistress here? To a family event? While his wife sat out there alone for over an hour?

The anger that crawled up Maxwell’s chest surprised even him.

He had never particularly cared about James’ personal disasters. His nephew had always been a walking catastrophe and Maxwell had long since decided it wasn’t his problem to fix. But this — this was different. This was a woman breaking apart in silence in a hallway, and Maxwell had stood in that exact same place before.

He didn’t think twice. He shoved the door open.

The rest happened quickly. His hand found James’ collar before either of them said a word and the first punch landed clean across his jaw. The second one connected before James could even process what was happening.

“You left your wife out there only to come here frolicking with this cheap whore.” His voice came out low and steady, which somehow made it worse.

“It’s none of your business—” James started. Maxwell didn’t let him finish. The third punch shut him up.

By the time Madam Margaret shrieked her way through the crowd and pried them apart, James’ face was already swollen and bleeding. Maxwell straightened his suit jacket, breathing evenly, and turned to find Diana gone.

He found her outside.

She was just standing there in the rain. Not running. Not hailing a cab. Just standing, completely still, letting it soak through her and ruin her gown and flatten her perfectly styled hair. Like she had given up on even trying to hold herself together.

“You’ll get a cold standing in the rain,” Maxwell said, breaking through her silent pain.

She turned quickly and the look on her face was one he recognised — embarrassment. The humiliation of being caught in someone else’s sympathy. She opened her mouth to say something, probably something sharp, anything to send him away, but her legs chose that moment to give up entirely.

Maxwell moved fast.

He caught her before she hit the ground, his arms going around her in one swift move, and the moment she was steady against his chest, he felt just how badly she was shaking.

________________

Diana opened her eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. The first thing she did was reach out and feel the bed for her phone. Her fingers closed around it and she pulled it to her face. Ten pm. She stared at the number for a moment, blinking slowly, then sat upright.

The throbbing started immediately. A hard, pounding ache right behind her eyes that made her squeeze them shut and press her fingers against her temples. She breathed through it, waiting for it to settle, then slowly looked around.

The room was large and clean. Expensive looking furniture, soft lighting, curtains pulled shut against the night outside. Everything was unfamiliar. She turned her head and nearly jumped out of her skin.

Maxwell was sitting in a chair in the corner, watching her. His legs were stretched out, arms folded across his chest, his expression completely unreadable.

“How did I end up here?” The words came out sharper than she intended but she didn’t soften them.

Maxwell let out a short scoff. “So much for a thank you.”

“I didn’t ask you to help me.”

“I know.” His voice was flat and even. “But I know a broken woman when I see one, so I won’t take your words to heart.”

Diana pressed her lips together and looked away. Then slowly, properly, she looked back at him. She hadn’t really seen him earlier. Not properly. She had registered the brown eyes, the sharp interference, the punches — but now she took him in fully and something shifted quietly in her chest before she could stop it.

He was tall. Even sitting down it was obvious. Broad through the shoulders, jaw sharp enough to cut glass, full lashes framing those same piercing brown eyes that had startled her earlier in the hallway. His shirt was slightly open at the collar and she caught the edge of something dark — and ink, a tattoo — before she dragged her eyes away. Damn.

She stopped the thought immediately before it could finish forming. This was James’ uncle. She was a married woman walking out of a nightmare. The last thing she needed was—

“Thank you,” she muttered, clearing her throat. “I should get going.”

“I didn’t bring you here to entertain you.” His tone was blunt, almost cold. “I helped because this area isn’t safe at night. There are men around here known for worse things than stealing.” He held her gaze. “You passed out in the rain. You were soaked. I wasn’t about to leave you on the ground.”

Diana batted her eyes slowly and didn’t respond. Then something occurred to her. She looked down to see that she was wearing a t-shirt that was definitely not hers. It was oversized, soft, smelling faintly of something clean and masculine. Her gown was nowhere in sight.

Her eyes snapped back to Maxwell.

As if he had already anticipated the exact thought running through her mind, he spoke before she could open her mouth.

“The maids changed you.”

Diana exhaled and gave a small nod, saying nothing.

Maxwell stood. He was even taller upright. His shirt was still unbuttoned at the top and as he moved, her eyes caught the snake tattoo properly this time — dark ink curling across his chest, the tail disappearing beneath the fabric. She looked away quickly.

“Get some rest,” he said, already moving toward the door. “Tomorrow, if you want to go home, you can.” He paused briefly without turning around. “Wherever home is for you right now.”

He said it simply. Without malice or contempt. But they both understood exactly what it meant. Then he walked out and pulled the door shut behind him.

Diana sat in the silence for a moment, then picked up her phone. The missed calls loaded immediately. Four of them. All James.

She hissed and turned the phone face down on the duvet.

She was done. There was nothing left in her for him — not anger, not love, not even the energy required to feel properly betrayed anymore. She was just exhausted. Hollowed out.

Her eyes grew warm and she blinked hard. The memories crept back anyway. The rose petals she had scattered on the bedroom floor on her birthday night. Sitting up waiting for him until sleep dragged her under. The way he had kissed her forehead in the morning and said I’m sorry, I was swamped with work like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She had believed him.

The phone started ringing again. She grabbed it, ready to decline, then stopped when the name on the screen registered.

Carla.

She picked up.

“Diana!” Carla’s voice flooded the line immediately. “I have been calling you for the last two hours. Your phone wasn’t going through and I was about to drive to that mansion myself — how did the dinner go? Are you okay?”

Diana wiped her eyes quickly, as though Carla could see her through the screen. She exhaled. “I caught him again, Carla.”

Silence for one beat.

“What?”

“At the house. With Erica. The same girl.” Diana paused, steadying her voice. “And it’s worse this time. They already had a court wedding.”

The sound that came through the phone was somewhere between a gasp and a shriek. Carla launched into a stream of insults so colorful and precise that Diana almost smiled despite herself. “He is a wretched, disgusting, low-life excuse for a man and I hope he rots,” Carla finished breathlessly. “Oh, my poor baby. I am so, so sorry. You don’t deserve any of this.”

“I know.”

“Where are you right now? I’m coming to you.”

Diana hesitated. “Di?”

“I’m… I’m fine. I’m somewhere safe.”

“Somewhere safe where? Diana, where are you?” The silence stretched one second too long and Carla, who had known her since university and could read her hesitations like a language, cut straight through it. “Diana Hartway. Where are you?”

“It’s complicated, Carl—”

“Whose house are you in?”

Diana closed her eyes. “Maxwell’s.”

The silence on the other end was deafening. Then — “Whose house?”

“Maxwell Hartway.”

“You mean—” Carla’s voice dropped to something between a whisper and a shriek. “Maxwell Hartway? The Maxwell Hartway? You are in that man’s house right now?”

“Carla—”

“Diana, that man is worth more than most small countries—”

“Carla, I am not in the mood—”

“I’m just saying! That is quite…” she trailed off, exhaling slowly. “Interesting. That’s quite interesting, di.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry. Are you okay? Really?”

“I’ll be fine. I just need tonight.”

Carla softened immediately. “Okay. Call me first thing in the morning.”

________________

Diana didn’t sleep. Not really. She lay with her eyes open staring at the ceiling while the clock ticked past midnight, past one, past two. Her mind wouldn’t rest. It kept replaying everything — the conversation she had heard through the door at the mansion, James’ bare chest, Erica’s satisfied laugh, you are worth more than a hundred Dianas.

She was still awake at three am when she finally stopped fighting it and just let the thoughts run themselves out.

By the time morning came, pale light leaking in through the curtains, she felt strangely calm. Not healed. Not fine. But settled, the way a storm settles into quietness.

She sat up.

Her gown was laid neatly across the foot of the bed — washed, pressed, looking like it hadn’t spent half the night soaked in rain. She stared at it for a moment, something she couldn’t name moving through her chest, then quietly got dressed. She gathered her bag and her phone and walked out of the room.

The house was still and cool in the early morning as she made her way down the wide staircase and nearly walked straight into Maxwell at the bottom.

He was already dressed. Dark trousers, a simple shirt, expression as unreadable as it had been the night before. Neither of them said anything for a moment.

Diana moved to step past him, then stopped. “Thank you,” she said, meeting his eyes briefly. “For last night. I should get going.”

Maxwell nodded once. “Take care of yourself.” He turned to the side. “I’ll have my driver take you.”

“I already booked a cab. Thank you.”

He raised an eyebrow. Something shifted briefly in his expression — amusement, maybe, or just faint surprise — then he shrugged, a slow, unhurried movement that said as you wish without a single word, and turned and walked back upstairs. Diana stood at the foot of the staircase alone for a moment. Then she walked outside.

She sat in the back of the cab the whole way home without checking her phone once. When the familiar gates of Riverpark Estate came into view she felt the dread settle into her stomach like something solid.

The cab stopped. She paid, stepped out, and stood on the pavement with her bag at her feet, staring at the front door.

She stood there long enough that the cab drove away.

Then she picked up her bag, lifted her chin, and walked inside.

James was in the sitting room. She stopped dead. She hadn’t expected that. He was usually at work by now — had always been at work by now — and the sight of him sitting there, watching the door like he had been waiting, sent a sharp spike of anger straight up her spine.

She didn’t say anything, just turned and made for the stairs.

“Diana.” His hand closed around her wrist.

The touch hit her like something electric and wrong. She wrenched her arm away hard and spun to face him. “Don’t you dare.”

“Diana, just listen—”

“I am done.” Her voice didn’t shake. She was surprised by that. “I am done being your fool, James. I am done.”

She turned and walked upstairs. Found the suitcase exactly where she had left it, half packed, tucked behind the wardrobe. She pulled it out and dragged it down the stairs without bothering to add anything else to it. She had enough.

James appeared at the bottom of the staircase. “What are you doing? Diana—”

She walked past him.

“Diana, put that down. Let’s talk about this—”

“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.” She wheeled the bag toward the front door and pulled it open.

“You’re being dramatic. Stop—”

She walked outside, standing on the front steps trying to figure out whether to call Carla’s driver or book another cab when she heard it — the smooth, quiet rumble of an engine. A black Rolls Royce rolled to a stop directly in front of her.

The window came down and to the duo’s shock, Maxwell looked out at her, his arm resting on the door, completely unbothered.

“What the—” James shoved past her. His whole face had changed, the pretense falling away entirely. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Maxwell didn’t look at him. His eyes were on Diana. “You have three seconds to get in.”

James turned to her. Something panicked moved across his face for the first time. “Diana. Sweetheart, don’t — don’t listen to him—”

Diana looked at Maxwell. Looked at James. Looked at the car.

Then she opened the door and got in. She heard James shouting as Maxwell’s driver stepped out, lifted her suitcase with quiet efficiency, and placed it in the boot. The door clicked shut. The car didn’t hurry. Maxwell glanced once in the side mirror, and the ghost of something that might have been a smile crossed his face.

“Loser,” he said, almost to himself.

The Rolls Royce pulled away smoothly. Diana stared out the window as the gates of Riverpark Estate disappeared behind her. She didn’t know where they were going. She didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t know if any of this made sense.

She stole a glance at Maxwell from the corner of her eye. He was facing forward, his jaw set, one hand resting loosely on his knee — completely unbothered, like he hadn’t just upended her entire morning. Like rescuing her was the most ordinary thing in the world.

Diana faced the window again before he could catch her looking.

She didn’t know what to make of him. Didn’t know why he kept showing up. Didn’t know why a man like Maxwell Hartway — cold, sharp-edged, someone who clearly had no business concerning himself with his nephew’s failing marriage — had now twice in less than twenty-four hours stepped between her and the worst version of her life.

“You really should not let what he did get to you.” Maxwell’s voice broke through the silence inside the car, flat and even, like he was commenting on the weather. He didn’t look at her. Didn’t turn his head. His eyes stayed forward, one arm resting against the window frame, the other loose on his knee while his driver navigated the quiet morning roads.

Diana said nothing at first. She was too busy processing the sheer strangeness of the situation she had landed herself in. She was sitting in a Rolls Royce. Beside her husband’s uncle. After walking out of her marriage with one suitcase and zero plan. The same man who had punched James twice in one evening and then showed up at her doorstep the following morning without being asked. She didn’t even know what to say to that. Or to him.

“Uhmmm…” She cleared her throat softly. “I’m sorry — where exactly are we going?”

Maxwell didn’t answer. He cocked his head slightly and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it like she hadn’t said a word.

Diana pressed her lips together. She waited a beat, then tried again. “Mr Maxwell.” She kept her voice level. “Where are we going?”

He glanced up briefly with a mischievous expression on his face. “Somewhere to be away from my naughty nephew for a while.” Then he went back to his phone.

Diana blinked. Naughty nephew. Like James was some misbehaving child who had knocked something off a shelf. Not a man who had been sleeping with his secretary for God knows how long, secretly married her, and then stood in his mother’s hallway letting that same woman talk about what Diana didn’t have.

She exhaled slowly, bit the inside of her cheek and turned to face the window.

Fine. She would find out when they got there. The drive lasted about twenty minutes before the car slowed and Diana’s eyes caught the entrance of an estate she had passed dozens of times on the main road without ever once going inside. Everyone in their social circle knew about it. Everyone had something to say about it. The kind of place that had its own quiet power — no loud gates, no security theater, just a clean, understated entrance that managed to communicate very clearly that not just anyone came through here.

Even the Hartways, with all their wealth and their gaudy dinner parties and their sprawling mansion, had never had access to this particular estate. Madam Margaret had made a pointed comment about it once at a family gathering — something about permits and connections and how the people inside thought themselves untouchable.

Diana straightened in her seat as the driver turned smoothly into the entrance without slowing down. The gates opened before they even reached them.

“What are we doing here?” she whispered, almost to herself. Then she turned to Maxwell. “Wait — Madam Margaret said the Hartways can’t enter this estate. She said you’d need a special permit just to—”

The car came to a stop. Maxwell pocketed his phone and stepped out without a word. A moment later, her door opened and she realized he had come around to her side. He stood there, unhurried, and said simply, “Get down.”

Diana hesitated. The way he said it — blunt, no softness to it — made her wonder for half a second if she had offended him somehow. She climbed out carefully, and as she straightened, she heard the soft thud of her suitcase being lifted from the boot behind her.

“Follow me.”

She fell into step behind him, her eyes moving across the estate as they walked. It was different from the inside. Quieter. The kind of quiet that felt intentional — wide paths, mature trees lining the edges, nothing cluttered or performative about it. They walked until a duplex came into view and Diana’s steps slowed.

It was magnificent. Not loud and not the the kind of home that announced itself. But the kind that didn’t need to. Clean lines, tall windows, surrounded by just enough space that it breathed. Like whoever built it hadn’t been trying to impress anyone. Had simply wanted something exactly right.

Maxwell stopped at the front door, punched a sequence of numbers into the keypad and the lock released with a soft click. He pushed the door open and stepped aside. Diana walked in slowly.

“Welcome to my private house.”

She turned to look at him. “Your…” She shook her head slightly, processing. “Your private house. You own a house inside this estate?”

One eyebrow went up. “Is it surprising?”

“I just — Madam Margaret always said—”

“The Hartways may not have the means of getting into this estate.” His voice was measured and unbothered laced with a slight tone of pride. “But I do.” He didn’t explain further. Didn’t offer more. Just let that sit in the air between them like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

Diana looked away from him and took the house in properly. The interior was cool and still, high ceilings, clean furniture, everything chosen with quiet intention. Nothing extra. Nothing missing. “I need to head to the office,” Maxwell said behind her. “Feel at home.” He paused briefly. “The key code for the main door is the same one you just saw me use. Don’t lose it.”

She turned to respond but he was already moving. A moment later the front door clicked shut behind him and the house went completely silent. Diana stood in the middle of the living room for a long moment, just breathing.

Then she moved to the nearest chair and sat down, her bag sliding from her shoulder onto the floor beside her. She pressed her palms against her knees and stared at the opposite wall.

Stunned was too small a word for what she felt. Hours ago she had been planning a romantic birthday dinner for a man who was already in a hotel room with someone else. Now she was sitting inside an estate she had never thought she would set foot in, in a house that belonged to a man she barely knew, with one suitcase and a marriage in ashes.

Her phone buzzed. She picked it up and the screen was already crowded with notifications. Messages from James, stacked on top of each other, each one a different version of the same desperation.

‘I’m sorry Diana please come home.’ ‘Diana don’t do this, we can fix this.’ ‘Stay away from him. He’s not who you think he is. Diana I swear to God if you—’ ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Please just answer me.’

She read through them all without blinking. There was something almost fascinating about watching a man perform panic in real time. Where had all this urgency been on her birthday night? Where had it been every single time she sat up waiting for him and he didn’t come?

She was still scrolling when her phone stopped vibrating and started ringing outright. She looked at the name on the screen. Madam Margaret.

Diana closed her eyes for one second. Of course. James had already run to his mother. She could picture it — him standing in that sitting room at Riverpark Estate, horrified and humiliated, calling his mother the moment the Rolls Royce turned the corner and disappeared.

She heaved a slow, heavy breath. Then she picked up the call.

“You cheap whore!”

The shriek hit her ear so hard she nearly pulled the phone away from her face. Madam Margaret’s voice came through the line like a blade wrapped in silk — sharp, cutting, vibrating with the kind of fury that had clearly been building since the moment James opened his mouth.

“You have the shameless audacity to walk out of my son’s house and climb into my brother’s car like some desperate, conniving little—”

“Madam Margaret—”

“Don’t you dare interrupt me!” The pitch climbed higher. “Do you know who you are? Do you know what you are? A nobody! A girl my son picked up from nothing and gave a life to, and this is how you repay him? By throwing yourself at his uncle? You disgusting—”

“He cheated on me.” Diana’s voice was quiet with gentle sobs. She didn’t raise it and didn’t match Margaret’s pitch. “Your son cheated on me. Not once. Repeatedly. He took the same bag he had customized for me and gave it to her. He brought her to your family dinner and left me sitting alone for over an hour while he was in a room with her. He secretly married her.” She paused. “That is what happened.”

Silence. It lasted about three seconds.

“My son has every right—”

“I know.” Diana cut her off this time, soft but final. “I know he does. In your eyes he always will. That’s fine.” She looked across the quiet, unfamiliar room around her. “But I’m done.”

“You will regret this.” Madam Margaret’s voice had shifted from a shout into something colder, more deliberate. “When Maxwell throws you out of wherever you’ve crawled to, don’t come running back. You won’t find a door open for you.”

Diana said nothing.

“Are you listening to me? You are finished. Finished. I will make sure every—”

Diana pulled the phone from her ear and ended the call.

She placed it face down on the cushion beside her and sat very still. The house was quiet again. Just the faint sound of wind moving past the tall windows and somewhere, distantly, a bird. Diana pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose and breathed.