Shattered Vows

"Let's get a divorce."

Kaelen Vance delivered the devastating words in his usual icy tone. The cold, oppressive atmosphere of the master bedroom seemed to swallow the sound, making the silence that followed even more suffocating. His tall, imposing figure stood near the floor-to-ceiling window, projecting a stern silhouette against the evening light.

Sloane Kensington stared at his broad back. Her heart plummeted straight into her stomach. Her hands clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms to stop the trembling. The nightmare she feared most had materialized into reality, striking just one day before their meticulously planned third anniversary.

Kaelen turned around to face her. His handsome, chiseled features remained stoic and unreadable. The sight of him still managed to mesmerize her, even as he tore her world apart.

"Can we reconsider this? Please." Sloane forced the pleading words past the heavy lump in her throat. A flicker of desperate hope fought against the despair in her reddened eyes.

He frowned. To him, Sloane was nothing more than the quiet, submissive nurse his mother forced him to marry out of convenience. Three years ago, a catastrophic car accident left him paralyzed from the waist down. The doctors claimed he might never stand on his own again. That tragedy forced him to separate from the woman he truly loved. Sloane was chosen from a long list of admirers simply because she lacked a powerful background and caused no trouble. She cared for him dutifully and nursed him back to health, but Kaelen never developed a single ounce of affection for her.

"I will give you two million dollars as compensation for your care over these three years. The lawyer will draft the papers." Kaelen looked at her without a shred of warmth in his dark eyes.

Sloane stepped forward, her voice shaking with determination. "Why now? Why must you do this today?"

Tomorrow was their wedding anniversary. She had spent weeks preparing for it, holding onto the foolish hope that this marriage could eventually last a lifetime.

Kaelen shattered that illusion with a few ruthless words. "You know I do not love you. Valeria has returned. I am going to marry her."

The declaration struck Sloane like a physical blow. Her slender frame swayed under the weight of his rejection. The woman Kaelen loved the most had come back and was currently staying under their roof. Sloane spent three exhausting years guarding this fragile marriage, only to be tossed aside the moment his true love reappeared.

Before Sloane could even process the heartbreak, the heavy bedroom doors burst open.

The butler rushed into the hallway, sheer panic written across his aging face. "Mr. Vance! Miss Rossi threw up again! She is coughing blood!"

Kaelen’s stoic facade vanished in an instant. He brushed past Sloane without a second glance, abandoning her in the master bedroom as he sprinted down the hall.

"Get the car ready for the hospital!" Kaelen barked the order.

Seconds later, he emerged from the guest room carrying Valeria Rossi in his arms. The frail woman looked weak and pale, her face resting against his chest. She was wrapped securely in a soft woven blanket—a blanket Sloane had spent a month knitting by hand.

Nestled in his embrace, Valeria let out a weak cough. "Kaelen, what about Miss Kensington?"

He paused at the top of the stairs and shot one final, chilling glare back at Sloane.

"You have three days to move out. The lawyer will handle the rest."

With that brutal eviction notice, he began to carry Valeria down the steps. Just before they turned the corner, Valeria peered over Kaelen's shoulder. The sickly vulnerability vanished from her expression in a flash. She shot Sloane a triumphant, taunting smirk. It was the exact same mocking expression she wore an hour ago when she boasted about moving in and stealing Kaelen back.

The mansion fell silent as the front doors slammed shut downstairs.

Sloane collapsed onto the cold hardwood floor. All the strength drained from her legs. She wrapped her arms around her knees and wept bitterly. She cried for the ten long years she spent silently loving the man who once rescued her from a living hell. She thought her unwavering devotion could thaw his frozen heart. But love was cruel and unfair. He did not love her, and a decade of her youth meant nothing to him.

The hot tears soaked into the fabric of her dress. Sloane took a deep, shuddering breath.

"This is the last time I cry for you, Kaelen."

She wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand and stood up. The delicate, fragile demeanor she maintained for three years dissolved. A cold, resolute gaze settled in her eyes. The submissive wife was gone. It was time to leave this cage.

Sloane walked back into the master bedroom and approached the bedside table. The divorce agreement sat there, crisp and glaring. She flipped to the final page. Kaelen’s familiar, bold signature already occupied the bottom line.

Her finger delicately traced the ink of his name one last time. Without hesitating any further, she picked up the pen and signed her own name beside his.

Right next to the freshly signed papers, Sloane placed a meticulously designed gold pendant. She spent nearly a year carving the delicate piece by hand. It was supposed to be his anniversary gift. Over the years, she gave him countless presents, all of which ended up unused or tossed away. This would be the last.

Thirty minutes later, Sloane stepped out of the sprawling mansion. She did not look back.

A sleek, black luxury car idled by the curb, waiting for her in the shadows. Sloane opened the rear door and climbed inside, settling into the plush leather seat.

"I am divorced." Sloane announced, her voice flat and steady.

The man sitting behind the steering wheel adjusted his dark sunglasses, smirked, and handed a sleek silver laptop over the center console. "Congratulations on regaining your freedom. It is time to be yourself again. We have all been waiting for you."