THE WIFE HE THREW AWAY

CHAPTER 5

VICTOR POV

The helicopter was gone.

I stood on the yacht deck, staring at the empty helipad, coffee going cold in my hand.

"Where is my wife?" I asked the nearest crew member.

"Mrs. Emmanuel left early this morning, sir. With your daughter."

"Left? Left where?"

The man shifted nervously. "She did not say, sir. A helicopter came at six. They boarded and left."

My hand tightened on the coffee cup. "And nobody thought to tell me?"

"We assumed you knew, sir."

I threw the cup overboard and walked back to my cabin. My phone rang before I could process what was happening. Mother.

"Victor, where is Evelyn? She missed our brunch with the Hendersons."

"She left."

"Left? What do you mean, left?"

"I mean she took Grace and flew off in a helicopter this morning."

Silence on the other end. Then my mother laughed.

"Oh, this is rich. She is throwing a tantrum because of last night." I could hear the wine glass clinking in the background. "Let her sulk. She will be back by dinner. Where else would she go? She has no money, no family, no connections without us."

I wanted to believe that. Evelyn was soft. Dependent. She needed me, needed this life. A few hours alone and she would come crawling back.

"Check the house," Mother said. "She probably ran home to pack more bags and feel sorry for herself."

I flew back to the mainland and drove straight to our mansion. The house was quiet when I walked in. Too quiet.

"Evelyn?" My voice echoed through the foyer. "Grace?"

No answer.

I climbed the stairs to Evelyn's room, the one she moved to after I started sleeping in my office most nights. The door was open.

The closet was half empty.

I stood there, staring at the gaps between hangers, the missing shoes, the cleared dresser. Not a weekend trip. Not a tantrum.

She had actually left.

I called her number.

The number you have dialed is no longer in service.

Disconnected. She disconnected her phone.

I threw my phone across the room. It hit the wall and cracked but I did not care.

Where would she go? She had no one. Her family cut her off years ago. She had no friends outside of our circle. No money except what I gave her.

A piece of paper on my pillow caught my eye. I picked it up and read the short message.

Victor,

You had ten years to love me. You chose not to.

I almost died last night while you held another woman.

I am done.

Do not look for us.

Evelyn

That was it. No explanation. No negotiation. Just goodbye.

I crumpled the note and sat on the edge of the bed.

This was inconvenient. Embarrassing. We had events coming up, social obligations, a charity gala next week where Evelyn was supposed to host.

But part of me, a small part I did not want to acknowledge, felt something else.

Fear.

"Daddy?"

I looked up. Samuel stood in the doorway, still in his pajamas.

"Where is Mom?"

I did not have an answer.

At the office, Vanessa brought me more coffee and a list of calls I had missed. I ignored all of it.

"Sir, your two o'clock meeting..."

"Cancel it."

"But the investors..."

"I said cancel it."

Vanessa hesitated. "Is this about Mrs. Emmanuel? I heard she left. Do you want me to help find her?"

I looked at my assistant, at her concerned face, her careful words. Amanda was her friend. They had lunch together every week. Vanessa knew everything about my arrangement with Amanda.

Maybe too much.

"Just cancel the meeting," I said.

That night, I went home to an empty house. Samuel had dinner alone with the maid. He asked about his mother three times. About his sister twice.

I had no answers.

Two days passed…Then three.

No calls. No messages. No sign of Evelyn anywhere.

I hired a private investigator on day four. He came back with nothing.

"It is like she vanished, sir. No credit card activity. No phone records. No travel bookings under her name." He flipped through his notes. "But I did find something interesting."

"What?"

"The helicopter that picked her up? It was registered to a private company. Williams Aviation."

"Williams?" The name sounded familiar somehow.

"Part of the Williams Empire. The fashion and retail conglomerate. One of the biggest companies in the country."

"Why would they send a helicopter for my wife?"

The investigator shrugged. "That is what I am trying to find out."

After he left, I sat in my office, the name spinning in my head. Williams. Why did it feel like I should know it?

My phone rang. Mother again.

"Victor, the press is asking questions. Where is your wife?"

"I am handling it."

"Handle it faster. The Hendersons are spreading rumors. They say she left you." Mother's voice dripped with disgust. "If that nobody's wife is making us look foolish..."

"She will come back," I said. "She always does."

But even as I spoke the words, I was not sure I believed them.

That night, I walked into Samuel's room to say goodnight. He was already asleep, photo of me on his nightstand, just like always.

On his desk, I noticed something I had never seen before. A drawing. Crayon on paper.

It showed a woman and a little girl. The woman had brown hair like Evelyn. The girl had pigtails like Grace. Above them, Samuel had written in messy letters: I miss Mommy and Grace.

My chest tightened.

I left the room quietly and went to Evelyn's closet again. This time, I looked more carefully.

Behind old boxes and forgotten bags, I found a single cardboard box. No label. Just plain brown cardboard.

I opened it.

Magazine covers spilled out. Photos. Award certificates. Newspaper clippings.

The first magazine showed a woman holding a gold trophy. Young. Beautiful. Beaming with pride.

The headline read: Designer of the Year: Evelyn Williams Takes Fashion World by Storm.

Williams.

My heart stopped.

I flipped through more pages. More headlines. More photos.

Williams Fashion Empire Welcomes Youngest Creative Director in History.

Evelyn Williams: The Heiress Who Built Her Own Kingdom.

Billionaire Designer Evelyn Williams Named Most Influential Woman in Fashion.

My wife.

My invisible, worthless, nobody wife.

Was Evelyn Williams.

Daughter of the Williams dynasty. Heiress to billions. A woman more powerful and wealthy than I would ever be.

And I had spent ten years treating her like garbage.

I sat on the floor, surrounded by evidence of everything I never bothered to learn about the woman I married.

My phone rang. I answered it without looking.

"Victor." Amanda's voice was silk. "I heard your wife left. Perfect timing. Now we can finally..."

"Not now, Amanda."

"But Victor..."

I hung up.

On the floor beside me, one final photo caught my eye. Evelyn at a party, young and laughing, standing next to a tall man with kind eyes.

The caption read: Designer Evelyn Williams with family friend Benjamin, son of legendary chef Joshua, at the Williams Estate annual gala.

Benjamin.

The name burned into my brain.

Who was this man? Why was he holding my wife like she belonged to him?

And why did I suddenly feel like I was the one who had lost everything?