I sat there frozen after the footage ended, my chest tight like something heavy was pressing me down.
Rosine… she heard me that day. Every damn word. She saw my lips move, she caught my voice. The moment I told Colt about Beatrix, about the baby, about the choice I made. She wasn’t deaf anymore. She heard it all.
I should feel relieved, right? She’s gone. Out of my life. No more lifeless dinners, no more silence between us. I should be happy that I can live with Beatrix freely now. But instead there’s this sting under my skin that won’t stop burning. I tell myself it’s pride. Just pride that she dared to leave me like that. But it doesn’t feel like pride. It feels like something hollow eating me alive.
I slammed my fist into the glass window. The crack split like a scream and the shards scattered. Blood ran down my knuckles, warm and sticky, but I didn’t care. I stood there breathing hard, my reflection broken into pieces.
At sunrise, I called my men. My voice was cold. “Find her. I don’t care what it takes. Search every house, every airport, every border. Bring her back to me.”
By noon they came back, heads bowed. “Sir, she already left the country.”
The floor tilted. My hands shook. I sat behind my desk but even the leather chair couldn’t hold me steady. For the first time in my life, I felt powerless. Me, Walter Rutherford, who built companies from ashes, who bent people to my will. And here I was, destroyed by a woman who used to stare at me like I was her whole world.
**
My phone rang sharp against the silence. Beatrix’s mother. Her voice panicked. “Walter, it’s Beatrix. She’s in the hospital. Come quick. St. Augustine’s Medical, room 507!”
I didn’t even hang up properly before I grabbed my keys and stormed out. My chest was pounding, my mind only chanting her name. Beatrix. Beatrix.
When I pushed open that hospital door, I saw her curled up on the bed, sobbing, her face pale, clutching her stomach like the world had ended.
“Walter,” she cried, reaching for me, her voice cracked. “I slipped in the bathroom. I… I lost our baby.”
My heart ripped apart. I rushed to her side, holding her shaking body against me.
“No. Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “We’ll fix this. We’ll try again. I’m here, Bee. I’ll never leave you. You’re my everything.”
She cried harder into my chest, and I held her tighter, my bloody hand staining the white sheets. But deep inside, beneath the words, that hollow ache kept whispering Rosine’s name.
The door opened and Mrs. Charles marched in with her husband right behind her. Her eyes darted around the room like she was searching for someone.
“Where’s Rosine?” she snapped. “Why isn’t she here assisting her sister? She should be the one looking after Beatrix, not you alone.”
I let out a heavy sigh and rubbed my temples. “She’s gone, Mrs. Charles. She left me divorce papers.”
Her head jerked up, fury flashing in her eyes. “What? Left where?”
Flat voice, no emotion. I wasn’t going to show her what it did to me. “She left the country.”
Mrs. Charles slammed her bag on the table. “That bitch! Always running away. She was supposed to take care of her sister after what she did years ago, letting her get kidnapped. And now this?” Her voice rose, echoing in the hospital room.
Mr. Charles’s jaw tightened, his tone colder than ice. “Rosine has always been a burden. Forever deaf, useless, no man in his right mind would want her. She should be grateful she even had you, Walter.”
I clenched my jaw. I didn’t answer. I just sat there, holding Beatrix’s hand tighter, keeping my face blank while something inside me burned.
Mrs. Charles pointed toward Beatrix, her voice sharp. “Exactly. You are the only man strong enough to handle Beatrix, and now that Cali is out of the picture, our daughter is finally free. Rosine never deserved you.”
I forced myself to stay calm, my eyes on Beatrix as she quietly sniffled against the pillow.
“Walter, take care of our Beatrix,” Mrs. Charles said firmly. “She’s fragile now. She needs you more than ever. Protect her from Rosine. That woman is poison.”
Mr. Charles crossed his arms, his decision final. “We’re leaving tomorrow for Hawaii. She'll stay in your villa. That’s where she belongs. Sign those divorce papers and end it officially. Don’t look back.”
I gave them a slow nod and managed a smile. “I will protect her. Beatrix is mine now.”
Next morning, I carried her out of the hospital in my arms, her body light against me, her head resting on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let Rosine come back. You’re the only one I want.”
At the villa, I laid her carefully on the bed, tucking the blanket around her. I bent down, kissed her forehead, and turned toward my desk.
I took the divorce paper nd signed it. Then my phone rang. I answered.
“Boss, your wife Rosine… she’s dead.”
