Chapter 2: Why Are You Still Here?

Reginald's POV

Damn that woman!

Elena's words were still ringing in my ears, and they made my blood boil as I stormed out of my Fifth Avenue apartment. Three years ago. That night. Just thinking about it was like getting punched in the gut.

That dinner party at the Stewart Villa? It was nothing but a setup. I was there as the big - shot CEO of Vanderbilt Group, thinking I was all that. What a stupid idiot I was! Old man Stewart was showing Elena off like she was some kind of trophy, and I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. Her smiles, her little touches - it was all fake, every bit of it. All part of their plan.

I was so drunk that night, I let Adam drive me back to the estate. And then, there was Elena, showing up in my room. One thing led to another, and we ended up sleeping together. Perfect plan, right? They must have been laughing at me.

The next morning, Adam's call woke me up. Photos of Elena entering the estate were all over social media. The financial media were already talking about a merger through marriage. I was so pissed when I realized I'd been played from the very beginning.

And sure enough, the Stewarts showed up at my door like they had a schedule to keep. Her father was all high - and - mighty, demanding that I marry Elena to "protect their reputation." What choice did I have? I had to agree to their terms.

Now Elena wants a divorce, but she claims she doesn't want anything else? Bullshit! A woman who schemes her way into marriage doesn't just walk away like that. The Stewarts trained her well. She's their perfect little puppet. This has to be another trap. But what the hell are they up to this time?

I got into my Rolls - Royce and just started driving. I couldn't stop thinking about her words. I didn't want to go home, so I just picked some random five - star hotel. It didn't really matter. I knew I wasn't going to be able to sleep anyway.

The next morning, I drove to the Vanderbilt Estate. I walked along the gravel path into the yard, and my eyes were scanning every corner without me even realizing it. The fresh air had the sweet smell of the orchids that my grandfather, Richard, had taken such good care of. Up ahead, the greenhouse was standing tall, and the rows of glass panels were reflecting the weak winter sunlight.

Normally, at this time, I'd find Elena and Grandpa standing together, talking about how the orchids were growing. Her laugh was like a bell, and it would fill the air. But today, there were just Grandpa's favorite orchids, blooming quietly in the greenhouse. Their soft smell was in the air, but Elena wasn't there like she usually was.

Just then, Martha, our butler for ages, came hurrying over with freshly brewed coffee. I asked, trying to sound casual, "Mrs. Vanderbilt hasn't come yet?"

She wouldn't look me in the eye. After a bit of hesitation, she finally said in a whisper, "No, sir. Do you want me to call her?"

"Don't bother." In three years, Elena had never missed a day of visiting Grandpa.

I found Grandpa in his greenhouse. Even at 82, he was still in charge. "Where's Elena?" he asked without even looking up.

"No clue. I spent the night at a hotel."

"Have you gone crazy?" Grandpa snapped at me.

"Since when do I need permission to sleep somewhere else?" I shot back. I was getting annoyed.

He glared at me. "Everything a Vanderbilt heir does needs the family's okay." He saw the servants lowering their heads, trying to pretend they weren't hearing us. Then he growled, "Come upstairs with me."

In his study, he shoved his tablet in my face. The headline hit me like a ton of bricks: #VivianDrakeAffair trending - Mystery Mogul Caught with Emmy Winner.

The photos were everywhere. It was just me helping Vivian after she twisted her ankle outside the restaurant. But the media had turned a simple act of being nice into a huge scandal.

"It's not what it looks like," I started to explain, but Grandpa's cold laugh cut me off.

"If it's not true, then fix it," he barked. "This mess you made - have you even thought about what it does to Elena and the Stewarts?"

Just thinking about Elena running to him and complaining made me angry. "What does it have to do with her?" If she wanted out of the marriage, why was she acting like a victim to my grandfather?

"Don't play stupid with me!" he exploded, and he threw his teacup at me.

I jumped out of the way, and the cup smashed on the carpet.

Grandpa was standing there, breathing hard. His voice was shaking with anger. "As long as I'm alive, that woman will never be a real Vanderbilt! Don't make the same mistake as your father!"

Hearing him mention my father really got to me. I took a deep breath. "I know."

His face softened a little bit. After we talked about some business stuff, I left. The sunlight was shining on me, but it couldn't get rid of the darkness in my heart.

After leaving the Vanderbilt Estate, I was frowning as I called my assistant, Adam, to make that TikTok trend disappear.

That evening, when I got back to the Fifth Avenue Apartment, I knew something was off as soon as I stepped out of the elevator. That familiar jasmine scent gave her away even before I saw the figure standing by the window in white.

"Why the hell are you still here?" I demanded. When she didn't answer, I kept going. "Didn't we just sign the divorce papers? You didn't even show up at grandfather's today. What are you up to?"

Still no response. I started walking toward her, ready to get some answers. But before I could get close, she spun around, and her face lit up with joy. She came running toward me, shouting, "Reginald, you're back?"