Chapter 8 And then I drowned myself in them. One after another, rough, relentless, nothing but skin and sweat and anger. I wanted to forget Annette's smile, her lies, her fucking betrayal. I wanted to erase the way she used to look at me, the way she promised she'd never leave. But no matter how many women I fucked that night, her face wouldn't leave me. It haunted me, whispering in the dark, cutting deeper than any knife ever could. The next morning... My head felt like it was split in half. When I walked to our room, the papers were still there. Divorce papers. Her handwriting, her neat little signature, her wedding ring resting on top. That ring I put on her finger with my own hands. I picked it up, turned it in my palm, and for a second, I almost wanted to slip it back on her. Almost. My pride wouldn't fucking let me. My chest hurt, my throat burned, but I kept staring at the papers. I leaned back and the memories hit me, raw, cutting through the booze haze. I remembered the first time I brought her to meet my parents. They hated her on sight, thought she was too soft, too gentle for a man like me. My father called her useless, and said she'd never give me an heir, a son. I snapped, slammed my hand on the table. "She's mine. You don't like it, then fuck off." I still remember the way she looked at me after that, eyes wide, full of love. Like I'd just moved a mountain for her. There was that night when my father tried to force her to attend some business dinner, wanting her to parade like a trophy. She was pale, whispering she couldn't handle all those people staring. I pulled her close, kissed her forehead, and told him, "She stays home. If anyone has a problem with that, they'll answer me." She clung to me like I was the only safe place in the world. Back then, I liked it. I liked being her shield. And then... her smile on our honeymoon. Fuck, I can still see it. She was sitting on the balcony, the ocean behind her, wearing nothing but my shirt. She glanced at some guy walking past and I snapped, dragged her back into the suite. A week in that bed, just her and me. She promised me over and over she'd never look at another man. I believed her. Goddamn it, I believed her. I slammed the bottle down so hard it shattered. The ring clinked against the glass. I grabbed her photo from the drawer, the one where she was smiling at me like I was her whole world. My hands shook, but I held it over the lighter flame until her face curled, blackened, turned to ash. The smoke stung my eyes. "I never thought you'd be a fucking whore," I growled through my teeth, the words bitter, breaking out of me. "All these years, me loving you, protecting you, and you played me. You leave me a clip of me and Maisie like you won something? Huh? You dared. You dared to act like you were better, while you're a rotten fucking thief, a liar, a whore." The papers blurred in front of me, but I forced my hand steady. I picked up the pen, signed my name with so much force the tip tore the page. It was done. The whiskey sloshed over my knuckles as I shoved the papers away. My chest felt hollow, my Chapter 8 2/3 30.7% 11:36 am rage the only thing keeping me breathing. "Fuck you, Annette," I muttered to the empty room, my voice breaking. "You'll regret leaving me." The ink wasn't even dry on those divorce papers when the door slammed open. Mateo barged in, face pale like he'd just seen a ghost. "Boss..." His voice cracked. "I got a report. Your wife Annette... she's dead. Shot down in Paris Rival gang crossfire." The pen dropped out of my hand. My whole body went cold, like the air had been sucked out of the room. "The fuck you just say?" I snarled, standing so fast the chair toppled. "You lying to me, Mateo? You fuckin' lying?" I grabbed him by the collar, dragged him close till our noses almost touched. His eyes didn' flinch, just brimmed with that scared loyalty he always had. "Tell me straight. Tell me the fucking truth. Now!" He swallowed. "She was caught in the crossfire, boss. No chance of survival. She's already at the morgue." My chest caved in. I snatched the glass off my desk and hurled it at the wall. It shattered, whiskey dripping down like blood. I roared, the sound tearing out of me. My throat burned like fire. "She left me... and now she's gone for good," I muttered, slumping onto the couch, head in my hands. My chest felt hollow. Fuck. I still wanted to see her! I lifted my head. "Mateo. Get the jet ready. I'm flying to Paris. I need to see her. One last time." He nodded and turned to leave, but before he could step out, my phone rang. Father's name flashing on the screen. I almost ignored it, but something in me picked up. "Where the fuck are you?" my father's voice thundered as soon as I answered. "Your grandfathe was rushed to the hospital. Get to Anderson Hospital now." I swore under my breath, grabbed my coat, and stormed out. When I reached the hospital, my grandfather was lying there, peaceful, eyes closed like he was just sleeping. For a moment, I thought he was gone. My mother's voice cut through the silence. "You reek of alcohol. Go shower. If your grandfather knew you were drinking yourself half-dead over that bitch Annette, he'd collapse again." I clenched my fists. "What the fuck happened to him?" "Heart attack," she answered coldly. "He found out Annette divorced you to run with her lover. He knows everything now." My blood boiled. "Why the fuck did you let him know?!" She shot back without flinching. "He came to your house looking for Annette. Heard the maids. and guards gossiping. We couldn't hide it." I growled, pacing. "Fuck! Enough talking about Annette. I just got word from my men-she's dead. Shot down in Paris." Both of them froze. Chapter & 2/2 30.7% 11:36 am "What?!" my father barked. "Killed?" "Yeah," I spat. "I was about to fly to Paris myself." Hi My mother's eyes narrowed, sharp as blades. "To make a fool of yourself? Let her rot. She collected her karma. Leave her unidentified, abandoned there. You hear me? If Maisie finds out you went to Paris, she'll be stressed, and that stress will hurt the baby. You want that on your hands?" The rage drained out of me, leaving only exhaustion. I nodded once, collapsed onto the nearest sofa, my body heavy, my soul heavier. Sleep took me before I could argue. The last thing I caught was my parents exchanging a look. Something sly, something scheming But I didn't care anymore. I was already gone, drowning in the dark. "Poor, Rufus..." 11:36 am MRS. ANDERSON'S POV In "Someone Loved is Never Lost" by CrushReel, readers are immersed in a captivating CEO drama that explores the intricacies of love, loss, and redemption. Set against the backdrop of corporate power struggles and personal relationships, this ongoing novel delves deep into the lives of its characters as they navigate the complexities of both the boardroom and the heart. Themes of ambition, betrayal, and resilience intertwine with complex character dynamics, making for a compelling narrative that keeps readers on the edge of their seats. CrushReel's unique storytelling style brings a fresh perspective to the CEO genre, offering a blend of emotional depth and strategic intrigue that sets this novel apart from others in its category. What makes "Someone Loved is Never Lost" special is its ability to seamlessly blend high-stakes corporate drama with heartfelt human connections, creating a story that resonates on multiple levels. Available to read at CrushReel, this novel promises a literary experience that will leave readers eagerly anticipating each new chapter.