The moment Serena said that, Wilmer’s big, flirtatious eyes narrowed.
A second later, the look on his face turned even more amused.
“Oh? Now you’re pulling this kind of act on me?”
He smirked. “Baby, you never used tricks like this before. Who taught you this shit, huh?”
His fingers brushed along her chin, his smile almost cruel. “Doesn’t matter where you learned it though. It won’t work on me.”
Serena didn’t respond.
She knew he didn’t believe her, but she didn’t bother explaining. She just turned her head, shook off his grip, and placed a document on the table.
“Sign it.”
The moment the words [Divorce Agreement] came into view, the lazy mockery on Wilmer’s face finally faltered.
Serena stared at him, unblinking.
Just when she thought he might actually panic, he picked up a pen and signed his name without hesitation, then pushed it back to her.
“You think this is gonna scare me?”
Meeting her eyes, he curled his lips and drove the invisible knife in deeper.
“You should know by now: Getting rid of you is something I’ve always wanted.”
Serena’s pupils shrank.
Just like that, the last bit of warmth in her chest was completely extinguished.
She slowly stood up, her gaze fixed on his face.
“Wilmer,” she said quietly, “I hope you remember what you said tonight. Don’t regret it later.”
Her eyes swept across the entire room.
“And one more thing. This yacht you’re throwing your party on? It’s my private property now. So take your folks, and get the hell off my ship.”
That’s when Wilmer remembered, yeah, he had given this yacht to her once.
But he didn’t move. Instead, he casually pulled out a checkbook.
“Then I’ll just buy it back from you. Name your price.”
Serena didn’t answer. She simply raised her hand and made a small gesture.
The next second, flames burst into the sky outside.
The crowd instantly panicked, scattering in all directions.
“Shit! Who started the fire?!” Wilmer snapped his head toward Serena.
“This yacht is going to explode in five minutes,” she said calmly. “If you don’t want to die, leave now.”
With that, she turned and walked off first, heading toward the dock without looking back.
Moments later, a massive explosion tore through the night sky.
Serena’s heart trembled along with it.
She stopped walking and turned around, staring at the towering mushroom cloud in the distance. She wiped the cold tears off her face.
That yacht was where Wilmer proposed to her, where he had promised her forever.
He had named it Moon. When he gave it to her, he’d said, “Serena, baby, you’re my moon. You’re the only light in the darkest part of my life.”
The words still echoed in her ears. But everything had already changed.
She didn’t even know how they ended up like this.
They met when they were young. Back then, Wilmer was just some street punk.
Like every cliché story, he saved her once when she was in danger. And that was how it all started. They fell in love.
For ten years, she stuck by him, watching him climb from a street punk to the guy who ran the whole city’s economy, feared and respected by everyone as Mr. Marchetti, the big CEO.
Over those ten years, she’d shared everything with him—running through storms, tangled up on rickety beds in tiny apartments, fighting through countless hardships, side by side.
Wilmer had done the same for her.
When she got sick, he stayed up all night taking care of her.
When danger came, he willingly risked his life to protect her.
At their most in love, he once held her hand in front of everyone and declared that Serena was his life.
Even if he died, he’d never let anyone hurt her.
Ten years was a long time.
She thought they were already part of each other, like bone and blood. That they would never, ever separate. But life doesn’t warn you before it breaks you.
Back then, Wilmer went overseas to expand business. He got caught in a local armed conflict and disappeared.
When Serena finally found him a year later, he had lost his memory. And there was another woman by his side.
Even then, despite the pain tearing her apart, Serena stayed calm. She told him everything about their past, piece by piece.
She showed him proof. Proof that he had someone he loved.
That she was waiting for him.
Wilmer believed her. But he didn’t want to go back to her.
She would never forget the way he looked at her that day. Cigarette between his lips, gaze careless and distant.
“Sorry. I believe you’re my wife. But I don’t remember you at all.”
“It’s okay,” Serena said, taking his hand. “Come back with me. I’ll help you remember everything.”
But he shook his head.
“I’ve thought about it a lot. I’ve decided to stay with Brionne.”
Serena’s lips parted. “Why?”
“It’s simple. You say I loved you so much. But if you really love someone, how do you just forget them like that?”
He tapped his temple. “There’s nothing here. Not a single memory of you. I look at you, and I feel nothing.”
He studied her, doubtful. “Did I really love you that much?”
Before she could answer, he went on.
“I don’t know if I loved you before. But right now, I love Brionne. I can’t live without her.”
“So… I’m sorry.”
“If you can, I hope you’ll agree to divorce me. Let me be with her openly and officially.”
The cigarette at his lips burned down to the end.
Smoke blurred Serena’s vision.
And at that moment, she suddenly didn’t know what the hell she was anymore—the woman who’d kept the company afloat, survived a year of sleepless nights while he was gone, holding everything together as it all fell apart.
