You Want Her? I'll Have Her

Elena's POV

I stood in the middle of Nathan’s penthouse, looking around one last time.

Everything was exactly as I had left it this morning. The marble floors gleamed under the city lights, the expensive furniture arranged perfectly, and the scent of Nathan’s cologne still lingered in the air.

For three years, this had been my home.

A home built on lies.

I tightened my grip on my suitcase. Nathan was still in Greece, laughing on a yacht with Sophia.

I walked into the bedroom—our bedroom.

His shirts were neatly folded in the closet. His expensive watch collection lined the dresser. All untouched. Because Nathan was always so sure of himself, so convinced that I would always be here, waiting for him.

I had let him believe that.

But he was going to learn that nothing lasts forever.

I grabbed the black credit card he had given me—the one he used to pacify me every time he let me down.

“I’m sorry, baby. Go buy something nice to make up for it.”

As if money could replace love.

I looked at the nightstand, and right next to the framed picture of us.

It was from two years ago—a rare moment when Nathan had actually taken me on a real date. We had gone to the beach, and I had been so happy just to be with him.

I stared at the photo for a long moment before finally picking it up and flipping it facedown.

Then, I turned on my heels and walked away.

Two days later, My new ID arrived in the mail, and for the first time in three years, I felt like I could breathe.

Elena Moreau.

I traced the name on the card with my finger, letting the reality sink in.

I had legally changed my name. I wasn’t just leaving Nathan—I was erasing myself from his world completely.

The next step was getting everything in order before my flight. I had already found a buyer for my car, ended my apartment lease, and booked my one-way ticket to Paris.

Thirty days.

In thirty days, I would be in a different country, starting over, chasing the dreams I had put on hold for Nathan.

I should have felt free. So why did my chest still feel so tight?

I shook my head, forcing myself to stay focused. There was one last thing I needed to do before I left.

I needed to see him one last time.

Not to beg.

Not to fight.

But to make sure that when I walk away, I will do it with no regrets.

One week later, Nathan had finally returned. The moment I stepped into his penthouse, he was standing in the kitchen, looking perfectly relaxed.

Like he hadn’t spent the past weeks betraying me.

He didn’t even look surprised to see me. He glanced up, his expression shifting into a smirk.

“Elena,” he said smoothly. “I was just about to call you.”

I leaned against the counter, keeping my face unreadable. “You were?”

He chuckled, setting his drink down. “Yeah. You’ve been avoiding me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Avoiding you?”

Nathan stepped closer, tilting his head. “Come on, baby. You’re upset about that photo, aren’t you?”

A small, humorless laugh left my lips. This was so typical of him.

“You mean the one of you and Sophia in Greece?” I asked casually.

He sighed, as if he was the one who had to be patient.

“Elena, you know how the media twists things,” he said. “It was just a business trip.”

I let his words hang in the air before giving him a slow, amused smile.

“Right,” I said. “Because it’s totally normal for business partners to sit on each other’s laps.”

Nathan’s jaw tightened for a fraction of a second before he recovered, flashing me that charming, practiced smile.

“You’re overthinking again, baby,” he murmured. “You do that a lot.”

I almost laughed. He was still trying to manipulate me.

Still trying to make me doubt what I had seen with my own eyes.

The old me would have fallen for it. The new me? I just smiled.

“You’re right,” I said lightly. “I overthink things.”

Nathan looked pleased with himself. “Exactly.”

“So let’s make this simple,” I said, reaching into my bag.

Nathan’s smirk faltered slightly as I pulled out his black credit card.

I placed it on the counter between us.

“I won’t be needing this anymore,” I said.

Nathan’s expression flickered—just for a second.

Then, he laughed, shaking his head. “Elena, don’t be ridiculous.”

I stared at him.

He still didn’t get it.

“I’m leaving,” I said, my voice calm.

Nathan’s amusement faded.

“Elena,” he said, as if correcting a child. “You’re being dramatic.”

I exhaled slowly. “No, Nathan.”

I met his gaze, making sure he understood.

“I’m done.”

Silence.

Then, a slow, amused smile spread across his lips.

He actually thought I was going to change my mind.

“Elena,” he said smoothly, stepping closer, “you and I both know this isn’t what you want.”

I tilted my head. “Oh?”

Nathan’s voice dropped into that soft, coaxing tone he always used when he wanted me to forgive him.

“You love me,” he said simply.

The worst part?

A part of me had loved him.

But love wasn’t supposed to be one-sided.

So instead of answering, I gave him a small, knowing smile.

Nathan frowned slightly. “What?”

I picked up my bag.

“Have fun with Sophia,” I said lightly, turning toward the door.

Nathan grabbed my wrist, his grip tightening.

“Elena,” he growled. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

I turned back to face him, my voice eerily calm.

“I’ve never thought clearer in my life.”

Then, I pulled my arm free, turned around, and walked out the door.