When the hurricane warning reached our private island, my husband took the final helicopter seat with his pregnant mistress and left me standing in the rain, / Chapter 38 / 40

Chapter 38 - Julian’s Final Beg

The door didn't blow open from a mercenary charge.

The heavy bar rattled, and a battered, blood-soaked figure tumbled into the bunker, collapsing at my feet.

It was Julian.

He had somehow survived the trek through the burning grounds, crawling through the mud and gunfire to reach the tower. His designer clothes were torn to shreds, his skin scorched from fire, his face covered in soot and tears.

"Elena..." he sobbed, wrapping his trembling arms around my combat boots. "I made it... I followed you... please..."

Kaelen kept his rifle trained on the open doorway, firing two suppressing shots into the gloom to keep the lingering mercenaries at bay. "Coast Guard tactical units have just breached the northern ridge! The hostiles are scattering!"

Julian didn't care about the gunfire or the approaching law. He looked up at me with wild, desperate eyes, his hands clutching my ankles like a condemned beggar pleading for absolution.

"Elena, you destroyed the accounts... but there's an emergency contingency," he babbled hysterically. "A private bearer bond account in Panama... thirty million dollars! Only my biometric voice code can unlock it! Take me with you! We can leave Sloane, leave the family, take Kaelen’s boat and disappear to South America! I love you, Elena! I never stopped loving you! It was a mistake—the storm was a mistake!"

I looked down at the man who had traded seven years of my devotion for a younger face and a hollow promise of power.

"You love me?" I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm.

"Yes! Yes, Elena, with all my heart!" he wept, kissing the toe of my muddy boot. "I swear it! Just save me!"

I slowly knelt down, bringing my face level with his. The bunker lights flickered amber against the tears streaming down his bruised face.

"On Vance Cay, when the category-five winds were tearing the roof off our villa," I whispered, "I begged you to take my hand. I told you I was terrified. Do you remember what you said to me right before you boarded that helicopter?"

Julian choked, his eyes darting away in sheer guilt.

"You looked at me," I continued, "and you said: *'There's only room for the future, Elena. And you're the past.'*"

Julian’s breath hitched in his throat.