Chapter 311:

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Allena tugged gently on August’s arm, her voice a soft murmur. “August, let’s go. The air in here… it’s making me feel ill.”

Her gesture was a silent, powerful declaration to everyone in the room: He is with me. He cares about my comfort.

The lawyer nodded to August. “It’s all taken care of, Mr. Chambers. You’re free to leave.”

August turned, ready to walk out with Allena, without a single word to Elisa. He was simply going to leave her there.

“Ms. Wilder,” Preston’s voice cut through the silence, loud enough for August to hear. “Since your husband doesn’t seem to care, allow me to see you home safely.”

The words were a calculated strike, and they hit their mark.

August stopped. He turned back slowly. His eyes, for the first time, settled on Elisa. It wasn’t a look of concern. It was a look of assessment, the way you’d inspect a damaged asset that was causing you a problem.

T𝗁𝗲 𝗺os𝘁 𝘱𝘰p𝘂𝗹𝖺𝗿 ո𝗈𝘷𝗲𝘭ѕ o𝗻 𝗀a𝗅novе𝗹𝘀.𝖼o𝗆

Elisa had remained silent through the entire grotesque theater. She watched them all — the preening rival, the self-serving opportunist, the cold, indifferent husband. Her heart felt like a dead weight in her chest.

She stood up, the metal chair scraping harshly against the linoleum floor. She picked up her handbag from the table and walked toward the precinct door, her gaze fixed forward, looking at no one.

Seeing Elisa’s cold indifference, a flash of annoyance crossed Allena’s face. She needed to be the center of his world. She lifted her hand, the one not clutching August’s arm, and let out a tiny, breathy gasp.

“Darling,” she said, her voice laced with a sudden, fragile pain. “My hand. I think I scratched it on the door earlier. It’s starting to sting.”

August’s attention snapped to her instantly. His entire demeanor changed. The cold mask of indifference dissolved, replaced by a look of tender, urgent concern.

“Let me see,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle. He took her hand as if it were a priceless, wounded bird, turning it over under the harsh fluorescent light to examine a scratch so faint it was practically invisible.

Elisa paused at the door, her hand on the cold metal push bar. She turned her head just enough to see it.

To see her husband, who hadn’t even glanced at the deep, ugly bruise on her own wrist, now fussing over a phantom scratch on his mistress’s hand as if it were a mortal wound.

Preston moved to stand beside her, his voice a low, venomous whisper in her ear. “You see? That’s the man you chose.”

She didn’t respond. She pushed the door open and walked out into the biting chill of the New York night.

Inside, August looked up from Allena’s hand, his eyes drawn to the empty doorway. He saw her back, ramrod straight, disappearing into the darkness. A deep frown creased his brow, and his expression hardened into something dark and unreadable.

Allena felt his focus shift. She tightened her grip on his hand, her voice a soft, needy whine. “August, it really hurts.”

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