He Left Me for Dead 21

Posted by Adminj, ? Views, Released on August 10, 2025

Chapter 21

She was across the bar, sitting alone in black slacks and this loose white silk blouse that clung to her like a secret. Her hair was tucked behind her ear, lips red from the wine she sipped like she’d done it a hundred times. But her eyes. Her eyes looked like they didn’t belong in that bar. Like she’d wandered in from a quieter, better world.

I was about to ignore her like I did everyone else but then she smiled. Just a little curve of her lips, unsure, maybe tipsy. And somehow, that was all it took.

I walked over, slow. She looked up and I said, “You look like you don’t belong here.”

She blinked at me. “Neither do you.”

We laughed. Talked. Laughed more. I didn’t even realize hours had passed. She wasn’t throwing herself at me. She wasn’t playing the games I was used to. She asked questions. She listened. She told me she hated crowded places and loved thunderstorms. I asked if she wanted another drink and she said, “Only if you’re staying.”

Outside, it started to rain. She didn’t have an umbrella, and neither did I, but neither of us cared. I kissed her right there, under the awning with traffic lights blinking red and gold behind us. She tasted like wine and rain.

Back at my place, she was quiet. She sat on the edge of my bed, fingers brushing the collar

of her blouse.

“Wait,” she said.

I stopped immediately.

“I’ve never done this before.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

She looked at me, cheeks flushed. “I’m still a virgin.”

I blinked. That wasn’t what I expected. Not from someone that graceful. That composed.

“You serious?”

She nodded. “I want it to be you.”

I remember breathing in slowly, letting that settle in my chest. I asked her if she was sure. She just kissed me again.

That night, everything was different. No rush. No ego. Just soft breaths and her hands in my hair. She trembled a little and I held her like she was made of something breakable. I didn’t know I had that in me until her.

The next morning, I cooked breakfast. She was trying to sneak out, shoes in hand, embarrassed.

I grabbed her wrist before she could reach the door.

“You think I’m just letting you vanish after that?”

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She tried to pull away. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I just… I don’t usually do that.”

“Yeah, well,” I said, “me neither. Stay.”

She stayed.

After that, I kept calling. Flowers, takeout dinners, random coffee in the middle of her day. I’d leave her notes just to see her smile when she found them. I was addicted to her. To the calm she brought.

One night, weeks later, she told me something that made my chest tighten.

“I used to work at one of your companies,” she said, playing with her spoon.

I raised my brow. “You did?”

She nodded. “You walked past me once in the hallway. You didn’t even look.”

“Well,” I grinned, “I’m looking now.”

She blushed. “I liked you even then. But you felt… unreachable.”

I leaned over. “Not anymore. You’re mine now.”

I meant it. I introduced her to my world. She kept her past close to her chest. Said she had no family. Orphaned. No roots.

“Good,” I told her. “Then you belong to me. My name is your name. My world is yours now.”

Six months later, I proposed. It wasn’t some grand gesture. Just me, her, a rooftop, and the city lights behind us. I held out the ring and asked her to stay. Forever.

She said yes.

My parents were furious. My mother nearly had a heart attack. “She’s just another gold–digger,” she spat. “Look at her, Torren. She’s too plain for our name.”

I looked her dead in the eye. “Good thing you’re not the one marrying her.”

The wedding was quiet. Garden setting, no crowd. Just us, a few real friends, and the ocean wind. She looked like peace in a white dress, barefoot in the grass. I told her I’d protect her. Always.

She gave up her job after that and moved into the house I bought near the sea. Woke up beside me every day. Waited for me every night. The silence we shared wasn’t empty… it was comforting.

Then Cleo came.

The day she told me she was pregnant, I lifted her off the ground and spun her around like a goddamn teenager. I went to every check–up. I painted that nursery with my own hands. Picked names like it was the most important project of

my life.

When Cleo was born, I broke down. I held her in my arms and knew nothing else mattered. Therese was glowing, even through the pain. She kept humming this lullaby I didn’t recognize, said it was something her mother used to sing.

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recognize, said it was something her mother used to sing.

We were perfect. Just us three.

Until Ruby showed up again.

It was storming. I heard the door open and Therese’s voice call out, “Torren?”

I walked to the foyer and froze. Ruby was standing there soaked in rain, lip split, bruises on her jaw and shoulder. Her clothes were torn and she clung to a little boy like he was all she had.

Therese cradled Cleo and stared at her, stunned. She didn’t say anything. I stepped forward, and Ruby fell into my chest.

“Please,” she whispered, “don’t let him find us. Help me.”

I wrapped my arms around her out of reflex.

That was the crack.

The moment the glass started to splinter.

I didn’t know then… that by letting Ruby in, I was already letting Therese go.

And God, I hate myself for it now.

**

I sat in the back of the Rolls with the city lights passing like ghosts outside the tinted window. My head was pounding and my chest felt like it had been cracked open. I didn’t care what hour it was. I didn’t care what it cost. I told Mico, “Send her everything. I mean everything.”

He blinked at me through the rearview mirror. “Everything, boss?”

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“The necklace. The one from Cartier. She wanted it years ago, remember? I told her it was too expensive. Said she spent too much. I was a fucking idiot.” I clenched my jaw and looked away, ashamed I remembered her face that night. How she smiled small and said, “It’s okay. I don’t need diamonds.”