Divorce or die 32

Chapter 12 

Callum didn’t waste a second getting on the road. Mason Blake was waiting, a rare smirk playing on his lips. 

“Didn’t think you’d actually show,” Mason said, casually leaning against his black sports car. 

Callum’s eyes darkened with threat. He grabbed Mason by the collar, seething. 

“You’d better not be messing with me. If you said you know where Evelyn is just to lure me out-” 

Mason and Callum had grown up together. They were both arrogant, proud, and used to getting 

their way. 

Mason knew better than to joke when Callum was this serious. 

“Relax,” Mason said, his tone losing the humor. “I know you’re serious. That’s why I didn’t joke around. I heard your little runaway bride made it to Norland. Soon as I caught wind, I tapped into my contacts. She’s scrubbed her identity clean, changed her name–but her sister, Lily? She didn’t 

have time to cover her tracks.” 

Callum’s grip loosened. He took the slip of paper Mason handed him, eyes scanning the address. 

“Thanks,” he said, fist bumping Mason. 

Mason grinned. “First time I’ve seen you this spun out over a girl. Don’t screw it up this time–drop 

the prince act or she’ll run again.” 

“Seriously, she is much better than that Estelle.” Mason quipped. 

Callum glared at him. “Stay away from her?” 

“Chill. I still want to be alive,” Mason muttered. “Just don’t forget to thank me when you get her 

back.” 

Callum turned to leave but paused, pulling a folded photo from his pocket–something raw and degrading, printed on glossy paper. 

“Look into this. You’re more connected overseas. You might find something I can’t.” 

Mason’s smile dropped. “Your sweet Estelle Moore? Man, her nudes are making the rounds. She 

must have more her stories.” 

Callum’s jaw clenched. “She says she was kidnapped. Forced. But something doesn’t add up. I need the truth.” 

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Mason gave him a two–fingered salute. “You got it.” 

With that, Callum took off, address in hand. He drove for hours, until the coastline of Waverly Bay came into view. The small beach town was asleep, the waves crashing rhythmically in the background. A little cottage stood at the edge of the cliffs, windows glowing softly in the early dawn. 

His pulse raced. He hadn’t gone this long without seeing Evelyn since the day he started pursuing 

her. 

Back then, he tracked her every move. Had her wearing a GPS tag without her knowing. She lived 

under his control, whether she realized it or not. 

And now she’d slipped through his fingers right under his nose. 

As he approached the cottage, he saw two shadows through the window–one tall and slender, the 

other childlike. Evelyn and Lily. 

She looked thinner than before. So much smaller. He remembered all the effort he had made to take 

care of her, the dietary restrictions, the supplements she needed because of a lifetime of neglect 

and hunger. But nothing ever stuck–her body rejected rich foods, and even his carefully sourced 

vitamins only made her sicker. 

She needed soft, simple meals. Comfort. Warmth. 

The smell of homemade chicken soup wafted out from the slightly cracked kitchen window, 

triggering a memory so vivid it stopped him cold. 

He thought back to the first time they met. 

It had been three years after Estelle’s death. He was still deep in his spiral, sleeping around, 

drinking too much, barely feeling anything. That night, Mason and a few others dragged him to an 

exclusive lounge just to cheer him up. 

Everyone knew Callum didn’t sleep with the women who threw themselves at him. He toyed with 

emotions, never their bodies. That was his control. 

They made a bet–whoever walked through the door first, you had to seduce her. 

Everyone thought it’d be some wannabe heiress or a VIP girl sent up to please the trust fund crowd. 

But in walked a soaked delivery girl in a cheap windbreaker, holding a plastic takeout bag, looking confused and entirely out of place. 

“Excuse me,” she said, blinking rainwater out of her eyes. “Delivery for a Mr. Brown?” 

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The guys laughed, confused. How had she even made it up here? 

This is the top of the lounge, accessible only to VIP members with elevator cards. 

How had she gotten up here? Was this some arranged “Cinderella” scenario to curry favor with 

them? 

The manager rushed over to apologize–an elevator malfunction had accidentally allowed Evelyn 

to reach the VIP level. 

“That’s SS floors! She actually climbed all those stairs just to deliver takeout? Damn!” 

Mason exclaimed, unable to tear his gaze from the drenched girl. 

“VIP level? This is the 88th floor?” 

Evelyn suddenly checked the order slip in her hand, realizing she’d misread the floor number and 

accidentally barged into the VIP area. 

Mortified, she bowed out quickly, leaving wet footprints behind. 

Everyone waved her off, but Callum stood up, showing his hand of cards. 

“Ilost,” he said. “She walked in first.” 

They thought he was joking. But the next day, he started showing up wherever she worked. 

He pursued her relentlessly. 

The crown prince declared with deadly seriousness: “When I say I’ll chase someone, I always catch 

them.” 

Yet Evelyn treated his advances with utter indifference. 

She rejected every gift, returned every designer bag unopened. When he baked a Michelin–grade 

cake, she gave it to the kids at the community center. 

The more she rejected him, the more obsessed Callum became. So many women threw themselves 

at him, and yet she wouldn’t even look at him twice. 

He thought she was just another girl trying to play the long game, make him fall, then cash out. So 

he told himself he’d play along. Seduce her, then break her. 

He humbled himself to visit her tiny rented apartment, lavishing praise on her simple 

home–cooked soups. 

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Accustomed to gourmet delicacies, he found unexpected comfort in her beef and barley soup- it 

tasted like the warmth of family. Convinced his efforts would soon pay off, he waited for her to finally succumb. 

Instead, Evelyn chose to throw herself into the sea rather than accept his pursuit. He still 

remembered how his chest tightened, how his heart nearly stopped. That was the first time Callum 

realized—he didn’t want to break her. 

He loved her. 

A loud cough from inside the cottage snapped him back to the present. He raised his hand to knock. 

But before he could- 

The door creaked open from the inside. 

And their eyes met. 

Chapter 12