Left To Die: Now The CEO Begs
On our third anniversary, my husband Marcus walked out on our dinner because his "best friend" Izzy had a crisis.
That was the ninth time he chose her call over my presence. According to the sick bet I made with her years ago, it was game over.
But the true end didn't come in a restaurant. It happened inside a plummeting elevator.
When the cable snapped and the emergency brakes slammed us to a halt, I lay trapped under debris, my leg fractured and head bleeding. Izzy, terrified but scratched-free, screamed for help.
Marcus didn't even look at me.
He stepped over my broken body to scoop her up.
"I've got you, Iz," he whispered, carrying her out to safety while I lay alone in the dust, gasping his name.
He left me to die in that metal box.
Later, when I confronted him, he called me "unstable" and "jealous." He claimed I was a burden, a placeholder he married just to pass the time until Izzy was ready for him.
He even shoved me into a freezing lake to protect her from a confrontation she started.
He thought I would always be there, the pathetic wife waiting in the shadows. He thought his love was a prize I would endure any torture to keep.
He was wrong.
I signed the divorce papers, threw my ring into the ocean, and vanished without a trace.
Three years later, I returned to New York as a celebrated artist, with a man who treated me like a masterpiece, not a prop.
Marcus, now ruined by Izzy’s lies and stripped of his fortune, found me. He knelt in the rain on the city street, weeping, begging for one more chance to fix us.
I looked down at the husband who had let me drown.
"There is no 'us', Marcus," I said calmly.
Then I turned my back on him and walked into my future.
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Chapter 5
Ellie POV
I didn't die.
I woke up retching, coughing up river water, my body sprawled on the muddy bank. Someone was pounding on my chest.
"Breathe! Dammit, Ellie, breathe!"
It wasn't Marcus.
It was Julian.
He was soaked to the bone, his expensive suit ruined, the fabric clinging to his skin. His hair was plastered to his forehead. When I opened my eyes, he slumped back, letting out a ragged sob.
"Oh God," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I thought I was too late."
I rolled onto my side, vomiting more lake water. My whole body shook violently, convulsing with the aftershocks of drowning.
Behind Julian, I heard shouting.
"You pushed her!" Julian roared, surging to his feet and turning toward the trail.
Marcus was there. He looked stunned. He hadn't left yet. He had watched me go under, and he had hesitated.
"She attacked Izzy!" Marcus yelled back, but his voice wavered. "She's unstable, Julian!"
Julian didn't waste breath talking. He moved.
He crossed the distance between them in three long strides and punched Marcus in the jaw.
It was a brutal, sickening sound, bone cracking against bone. Marcus stumbled back, blood spurting from his lip.
"You left her to die!" Julian screamed. He hit him again. "You son of a bitch!"
Marcus fought back. They rolled in the mud, trading blows. It was primal. It was ugly.
"Stop!" I rasped. My throat felt like it was full of shattered glass. "Stop it!"
Julian had Marcus pinned. His fist was raised for another strike. He looked back at me. He saw my terror.
Slowly, he dropped his hand. He stood up, breathing hard, and walked back to me. He picked me up as if I weighed nothing.
Marcus scrambled to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth.
"Take her," he spat, his eyes wild. "I don't care. Just keep her away from Izzy. Izzy is my line in the sand, Julian. Anyone who crosses her gets destroyed."
I shivered uncontrollably in Julian's arms.
I looked at Marcus. He was a stranger. The man I had loved was nothing but a hallucination. This man—this cruel, paranoid, blinded man—was reality.
"You're pathetic," Julian said, his voice cold as ice. "You shattered a diamond to protect a piece of cheap glass."
"She's a burden!" Marcus shouted, pointing a shaking finger at me. "She's been dragging me down for years with her neediness. I'm done!"
I closed my eyes. Every word was a bullet.
Julian carried me to his car. He placed me in the passenger seat and wrapped a dry blanket around me.
He leaned in, his forehead touching mine. "I've got you," he whispered. "I promise."
He walked around to the driver's side.
Marcus was standing by his Rover, watching us. He looked... lost. For a second, the anger faded, replaced by confusion.
"Wait," I said.
I rolled down the window.
My voice was weak, but it didn't tremble.
"Marcus."
He looked at me.
"We are done, Marcus. I won't bother you again. You can have her. You deserve each other."
I rolled the window up.
Julian started the car. As we drove away, I watched Marcus in the side mirror. He stood alone in the mud, the gray sky pressing down on him.
He looked small.
I turned my head and looked at the road ahead. The rain was stopping. A thin sliver of sunlight broke through the clouds, illuminating the wet asphalt.
I was battered. I was bruised. I was bleeding.
But I was alive.
And for the first time in a long time, the road ahead didn't lead back to him. It led somewhere new.
It led to me.