Chapter 4

Raphael's POV

Blake's expression instantly crumpled as though my words had wounded him.

"Raphael, you've gone too far." Irene rushed to defend the man she cherished, while Lucas pointed at me and hurled insults.

"You're a bad man. Don't you dare bully my mom! This apartment belongs to Daddy, and you're just the butler. Why should he have to pay you?" he shouted.

Irene looked at me warily while she kept one arm protectively around Lucas. "You can lose your temper all you want, but don't you dare lay a hand on my son," she warned.

I let out a cold sneer before crouching down to Lucas' eye level. "Why? Because this is my apartment. Your dad doesn't own it, and you're nothing more than a bastard."

No sooner had the words left my mouth than Irene slapped me hard across the face.

In the seven years we'd been together, this was the first time she'd ever struck me. The force of the blow left my head spinning.

"How could you say that in front of Lucas? You've gone too far!" she snapped.

Irene let out a cold laugh as she shook out her hand.

For a moment, it felt like I'd lost my hearing. All I could feel was the searing pain across my cheek.

"Take the money and leave," she said coldly.

I stared at the endless string of zeros on the check before a bitter laugh escaped me.

Money had once been the greatest obstacle in our lives. Now, it'd become the very tool she used to get rid of me.

"Go on," she urged, her patience running thin.

I turned and headed for the bedroom as I quickly packed my belongings. I even took the stack of wedding invitations I'd written by hand with me.

Irene didn't even spare me a glance when I stood by the entrance.

Once I was in the back of the cab, I pulled out the wedding invitations and ripped them to shreds under the driver's stunned gaze.

"Could you throw these away for me? I'll give you an extra 500 dollars as a tip." I forced a smile as I fought down the sob rising in my throat.

Just then, my phone buzzed with a message from Irene. She'd just shared the location of a cramped, run-down apartment located in an older part of the city.

"From now on, this will be our new home. Blake's rent is included in the check I just gave you, so don't go around bothering him and Lucas again," she texted.

She'd given the luxurious, spacious apartment to Blake, while I was left with a run-down dump.

"I'll take a look at it," I replied calmly.

It didn't take long for me to get in touch with a realtor who handled properties in the old neighbourhood.

"Hello, I need to sell an apartment as quickly as possible. You can price it at 100 thousand dollars below market value. The sooner it's sold, the better," I said.

The realtor immediately agreed. "Absolutely. I'll arrange for some potential buyers to view it right away."

…

The next day, I was still resting at the hotel when an urgent call came in from the studio.

The moment I answered, my assistant Leo Spencer's helpless voice came through the line.

"What should we do, Raphael? Ms. Lambert's signing the studio over to someone else!" he exclaimed.

"What did you say?" I asked.

"It's true! She said that this is your punishment for bullying Lucas. Raphael, we've spent over a year building this studio. Is it all just going to be for nothing?" he asked, his voice filled with despair.

Only then did I realize I'd received more than a dozen calls and hundreds of messages from Irene.

It turned out that Lucas had come down with diarrhea and was hospitalized after he'd eaten the mac and cheese yesterday.

Irene was convinced that I'd tampered with the food to get revenge on them. Her furious voice came through the phone when I called her back. "It was you, wasn't it? Didn't I warn you to stay away from the kid? Wasn't that slap enough to teach you a lesson?

"If you still want to go through with the wedding and get your studio back, you have until the end of today to go to the hospital and apologize to Blake and Lucas in person," she threatened.

"Don't worry. I'll be there. I've already sent out the invitations. There's no way I'm handing over the studio too," I replied calmly. Then, I blocked Irene's number the moment I hung up.

She'd played me for a fool with an elaborate web of half-truths. Now, it was my turn to give Irene a taste of her own medicine.

I took a cab to the studio and hired ten workers to smash the place to pieces. After all, Irene was the one who'd invested in it. I had no reason to treat it with care.

Besides, I'd already booked my flight. I was leaving this place for good.

Confusion was written all over Leo's face when he asked, "Can you really bring yourself to give all this up?"

I stared at the wreckage before me, utterly unmoved.

"I've already given up on the woman I'd loved for seven years. What's one studio? The world's a big place. I can always build another one elsewhere," I replied.

That night, I boarded my flight and left. The moment I stepped out of the airport, my phone was flooded with so many messages that it froze.