Chapter 10

Atlas had never imagined that the woman he once saw as pure and kind, his first love, could be capable of something so cruel; that she would dare to hurt his wife and be responsible for his child's death. His entire world tilted as he stared at Ivy, his gaze dark and unreadable. For the first time, he saw her not as someone he had once adored, but as a stranger.

Ivy’s composure cracked, replaced by panic. Large, glistening tears streamed down her face, her breaths ragged with desperation. The hot droplets landed on Atlas’s ice-cold hands, but he didn’t move.

“This isn’t real,” she choked out, violently shaking her head. “I didn’t do this. Those videos are fake—they’ve been edited! It’s Celeste! She set me up because she’s jealous of how much you love me! She’s trying to turn you against me—”

“Enough.” The word was a growl, low and lethal. Atlas’s patience snapped; his anger unrestrained. His temples throbbed, veins prominent against his skin, his fury barely contained.

“You’re still lying?” His voice was deadly quiet, yet heavy enough to silence the room. “Even now, you’re trying to blame Celeste?” His chest rose and fell with barely contained rage.

“She’s not that kind of person, Ivy.” His voice trembled with fury. “And you—” He let out a short, bitter laugh. “You’ve disappointed me more than I ever thought possible.”

Ivy’s lips parted slightly, stunned. For the first time, he wasn’t defending her. Tears still clung to her lashes, but a slow, twisted smirk curled her lips.

“You don’t believe me?” she asked, her tone no longer desperate, but mocking. A sharp, hollow laugh escaped her; her eyes flickered with something dark.

“Atlas, you claim to love me,” she spat, “but look at you. The moment Celeste is involved, you turn on me without hesitation. You don’t love me—you never have.” A cold realization seeped into her expression.

“You love her,” she whispered. “You’ve always loved her.”

Atlas stilled. His fingers twitched. His breath came unevenly, as if his own body rejected the truth being spoken.

“You think Celeste will forgive you?” Ivy taunted, her voice like poison. She stepped closer, eyes gleaming with malice.

“She knows everything now,” she continued, her words cutting like knives. “Everything.”

Atlas’s stomach twisted. “She knows what you did to her father and she knows you made sure she never got pregnant.”

A tremor ran through his fingers.

“She knows every moment you spent with me, every time you prioritized me over her.” Ivy’s eyes darkened with satisfaction as she took in the flicker of devastation crossing his face.

“You really think she’ll come back to you?” Atlas’s throat felt tight, suffocating. His mind spiraled back to Celeste, to the way she had looked at him that last night—the set, eerie calm in her eyes, the way she’d signed the divorce papers without hesitation.

“Face it, Atlas,” Ivy whispered, her voice cruelly sweet. “It’s too late. She’s never coming back.”

Something inside him snapped. Before he could think, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around Ivy’s throat, tightening with unrelenting force. Her breath hitched; her body went rigid as panic flared in her eyes. His grip tightened. “Celeste loves me. She would never leave me. She can’t leave me.” His mind roared with only one thought—if Ivy hadn’t existed, Celeste wouldn’t have left. He squeezed harder.

Ivy’s hands clawed at his wrist, her nails digging into his skin as she gasped for breath, her body convulsing against his hold.

“Atlas—!” she choked, her eyes wide with horror. Black spots danced in her vision. Her chest tightened, each breath becoming harder, shallower.

“Mr. Whitmore!”

A strong grip yanked at his arm, pulling him back—his assistant.

“You need to stop!” the man’s voice was urgent, desperate. “If you kill her—you’ll never see Celeste again!”