I Left Karthus Without Looking Back

1
After the divorce, I left Karthus and started over alone in Dubai. Just as my name was rising in the Middle Eastern arms trade, news came: my ex-husband, Damian Schwimmer, was engaged to his mistress.
My fingers traced the bullet pendant on my neckthe one hed forged from the round that nearly killed me in the Golden Triangle eight years ago. My life is in your hands now, hed whispered.
Without hesitation, I ripped off the necklace and threw it away.
Everyone said I was just a woman hed won in a card game, that without him, I was nothing.
But seven years later, I returned to Karthus to negotiate a new mining route. Across the table, the man who controlled half the Golden Triangle stared, his eyes reddening the moment he saw me.
My mind flashed back to his fathers funeral seven years ago. There he stood with Jenna, his mistress, accepting condolences as if she were the real Mrs. Schwimmer. Thats when I knewhe had another life with her all along.

I calmly pushed the divorce papers across the table toward him.
"Sign it."
Damian just raised an eyebrow.
Beneath the agreement was a newspaper, its headlines screaming a sensationalized story of how Jenna had stolen the show at the funeral, humiliating the true lady of the Schwimmer family.
"Evelyn, how many times are you going to pull this childish stunt?"
"You've threatened divorce a hundred times in eight years. Isn't it getting old?" Damians tone was casual as he pulled a black card from his wallet and tossed it on the table.
"If that's not enough, get more from Ty. The business is busy. Call if you need something."
I didn't take the card. My gaze drifted coolly to Jenna, nestled in his arms. All the women Damian found over the years looked like her. I suppose I understood why hed brought Jenna back to Karthus but hadn't given her a title. The position of Mrs. Schwimmer wasn't for the woman he loved; it was for the woman who was suitable.
"Are you going to let her be the other woman forever?" I nudged the papers forward again.
Jenna pouted, clearly offended by the label. "Miss Evelyn," she cooed, "the one who isn't loved is the real other woman."
Damian let out a soft chuckle, saying nothing. He reached out and pinched Jenna's cheek affectionately before his gaze slowly settled on me.
"We have our weekly visit to the family chapel tomorrow morning. Don't be late."
I held his gaze until he and his shadow had completely vanished.
Every week, Damian would accompany me to the old chapel on the estate, a ritual he claimed was to wash away our sins.
His mother said my infertility was a sin.
Damian said my lack of tolerance was a sin.
Inside the incense-filled grand mausoleum, I knelt before the altar. Just as I drew a slip of paper bearing a dire fortune, Damian walked in.
"Evelyn."
An inexplicable tightness seized my chest.
A mystic told me Jennas stars are crossed this year. Theres a curse on her, he said, his voice flat. The ritual to break it it requires your fathers ashes for a cleansing.
I shot to my feet, my shock colliding with the cold indifference in his eyes. A bitter laugh escaped my lips.
Damian, eight years ago, I had a dark seer read our fates. I lied and told you we were a match made in heaven. The truth is, your fate is cursed. You bring ruin to your wives and children.
My voice dropped to a venomous whisper. You dare touch a single grain of soil on my fathers grave, and I will smash your fathers memorial tablet and use it for firewood.
For eight years, I had wept and raged over his affairs. I finally understood that in the lawless world of the Golden Triangle, no man respects a woman who only knows how to yield.
His face darkened into a thunderous mask.
"Do it."
Two words. An order, not a discussion.
"Damian!"
His men seized me, their grips like iron.
I could only watch, helpless, as they desecrated my father's grave.
"Evelyn, this is for your father's own good," Damian said, his voice a cruel balm. "The ashes are just sitting there. This ritual will earn him merit."
"Get away from him!"
His ridiculous justification fueled my fury. I screamed, shoving the guards aside and snatching the urn back.
Then, a sharp blow to the back of my head. Warm blood trickled down my forehead. The urn was easily pried from my weakening grasp.
I fought to raise my head, my vision swimming. The last thing I saw was Damians face, silhouetted against the blinding sun, as cold and hard as granite.
"Take it to the mystic."
A sardonic smile twisted my lips before darkness claimed me completely.
I woke up in a hospital.
My most trusted associate told me Damian had been in the Northern Territories with Jenna for days. Not only had he used my father's ashes for that vile ritual, but he was also arranging to have his spirit bound in some dark magic to serve Jennas will.
I ripped the IV from my arm and stormed their villa with my own loyal crew.
Jenna was lounging on a sofa, sipping a delicate consomm. The color drained from her face when she saw me burst in. My eyes scanned the opulent room, landing on a brand-new, ornate shrine in the corner.
My father's photograph was sitting on it.
Rage exploded in my chest.
"Evelyn, you're not welcome here! If you dare cause a scene, I'll have Damian"
Before she could finish, I grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her toward the shrine.
"It seems you still don't understand the situation," I hissed. "I am Damian's wife. The one he married. I own half of every dollar his arms business makes. If I wanted to, I could make sure you never set foot in this city again."
My combat boot ground down on her wrist, twisting hard.
Jenna let out a piercing shriek. "You you old bitch! Damian will kill you when he finds out!"
I laughed, a cold, sharp sound, and slammed her face against the floor. "You think you'll be young forever? Here, youth is the cheapest currency there is."
"You want to use my father's ashes to change your luck? Just a cleansing isn't enough. Here, drink the water."
I had my men hold her down, grabbed the basin of ritual water, and forced it down her throat. Every drop she spilled earned her a slap across the face. By the time I let her go, her cheeks were swollen and crimson, and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
Hasty footsteps echoed from behind. Damian arrived like a storm, his private soldiers flanking him with rifles at the ready.
"Evelyn. You've crossed a line." His voice was glacial as he bent down to scoop the whimpering Jenna into his arms.
I met his gaze without flinching. "And you haven't, Damian? We're even."
A vein throbbed in his temple.
"Throw her into the snake pit in the back hills. Without my order, no one pulls her out."
It was a pit of vipers hed had dug specifically for Jennas amusement.
"Didn't you say you wanted to see a show?" he murmured gently to Jenna. "Today, you'll get your fill."
Two soldiers dragged me roughly towards the hills. In the cold, dark pit, venomous snakes slithered towards me, their fangs sinking into my flesh. White-hot pain seared through me as my clothes turned dark with blood.
Just before I lost consciousness, I heard Jennas triumphant laughter.
I pulled my lips into a silent, bitter smile.
Damian, eight years ago at Crimson Ridge, you stood before all the warlords and swore I was the only one you'd ever want.
But in this world, a man's heart changes faster than the weather in the Triangle.
...
I spent two weeks recovering in the hospital. During that time, the story of how Damian Schwimmer had thrown his wife to the snakes for his mistress spread like wildfire across the Golden Triangle.
The day I was discharged, I made good on my promise. I went to the family mausoleum and smashed his father's memorial tablet to pieces.
Only after my rage was spent did I go to see his mother.
"Mother," I said, stepping into her private prayer room.
She opened her eyes, her expression a complex mixture of emotions.
"Please give this to Damian." I handed her the divorce agreement and the newspaper.
"Evelyn, men like him are all the same here. Compared to power and money, what is love?" she said calmly. "The only way to truly win is to never let a man control your destiny."
She was unfazed by the news of her husband's desecrated memorial. After decades of dealing with his countless mistresses and illegitimate children, her heart had turned to iron long ago.
"Mother, I didn't marry him because he was a Schwimmer. I married him because he was Damian."
Only I knew how the sight of him in that fighting pit all those years agobloodied but with eyes blazing with untamable pridehad struck me to the core.
In these eight years, I had leveraged the Schwimmer family's influence to build my own network of arms channels and contacts. I was no longer the little girl who needed his protection. I stayed only for a love that had long since spoiled.
"If you divorce him, these women will walk all over you."
"If she has what it takes to take my place, then that's her skill." My voice was flat. But I knew Jenna didn't have that kind of skill. No true kingpin would ever marry a woman who had nothing to offer but a pretty face.
Damian's mother was silent for a long time before having her maid take the papers. She studied me for a moment, then sighed. "So many women would kill to be in your position."
I didn't answer. I gave a slight bow and turned to leave.
Everyone envied me for standing at the apex of power in Karthus. Only I knew the truthmy marriage to Damian was like the poppy fields of the Golden Triangle: beautiful and deadly on the surface, but rotten to the core.
On my way out, I ran into Damian's cousin, Sasha.
"I thought you'd put up with him forever."
"I used to think so, too," I replied coolly.
She shrugged. "I'll admit, I never liked you much. But you're a thousand times better than that woman he dragged out of some red-light dive in Patong." She leaned in conspiratorially. "You were with him for eight years. Aren't you going to take him for all he's worth before you go? You'd be losing out."
I smiled faintly. "If I stay any longer, I'm afraid I won't live long enough to spend his money."
Sasha snorted with laughter. "A loyal man might be hard to find, but there are plenty of men out there! Once you're free, I'll introduce you to someone. I guarantee he's better in every way... and knows how to treat a woman better than my cousin."
...
That evening, the signed divorce papers arrived, sent by his mothers maid. I immediately had them sent off to be filed and was about to draw a hot bath.
Suddenly, the door burst open and Damian stumbled in, reeking of alcohol. He came up behind me, bracing his hands on either side of the tub, trapping me.
"Good evening, Mrs. Schwimmer."
My hand, holding a glass of red wine, froze. It seemed his mother had used some trickery. He clearly had no idea what he'd signed, or he wouldn't still be calling me that.
I rose, wrapped a robe around myself, and tried to push past him.
"Still throwing a tantrum? What happened with Jenna is in the past."
He grabbed my arm. I caught sight of a bright lipstick stain on his collar and coolly shook him off.
"This isn't a tantrum. It's disgust."
"Your taste, Damian," I said, my voice dripping with contempt, "is as cheap as the perfume that woman wears. It makes me sick."
The next day, for the first time, we did not attend the annual Valerium Jewel Auction together.
When Damian walked in with Jenna on his arm, the entire room went silent. I entered just in time to hear him instructing a business partner to call her "the lady of the house."
Someone sharp-eyed spotted me and immediately greeted me respectfully, "Mrs. Schwimmer."
"Well, if it isn't the real Mrs. Schwimmer," Jenna sneered, her eyes raking over my simple dress. "Looking a little... plain tonight, are we?"
I raised my hand, letting the light catch the magnificent emerald ring that symbolized my status. "It doesn't matter what I wear. What matters is who people recognize." I smiled sweetly. "Where there's a wife, there's a mistress. I suppose my tolerance can't compare to yours, Miss Jenna. You seem quite content with a lesser role."
Just then, the host invited Mr. and Mrs. Schwimmer to the stage for the opening ceremony.
Damian extended a hand to me. "Come on. Don't keep our guests waiting."
He led me to the stage, his message clear. First, he was offering me an olive branch. Second, he was declaring to the world that our marriage was as solid as ever.
The unveiling, the speecheswe moved with the flawless synchronicity of years of practice. For a fleeting moment, the warm stage lights sculpted the mature lines of his profile, and I was thrown back eight years. We were just like this then, supporting each other as we took over our first smuggling route. The night we closed our first ten-million-dollar deal, hed slipped this very ring on my finger on a boat on the Serpentine River.
"Congratulations, Mr. Schwimmer," I had toasted him, smiling. "This journey has been a glorious blaze of blood and fire."
But a man's heart, I now knew, was more fickle than the Golden Triangle sky.
I excused myself for some air and stepped out onto the balcony. Jenna followed.
"Miss Evelyn," she said, her voice laced with provocation.
I turned to face her, my expression a mask of indifference.
"The night you miscarried four years ago," she began, her eyes glinting with malice, "Damian told you he was in a business meeting. He was in my bed."
She was trying to break me. My hand, holding a cigarette, was steady as a rock.
"I thought you would have come up with something better by now."
Her brow furrowed. "He said he loves me! He said he'll divorce you and marry me in a lavish wedding!"
I laughed as if it were the funniest joke I'd ever heard. "Did he tell you that in bed? Darling, the promises of love he's made to me could stretch from Aethel to the Crimson Ridge. Every woman he brings to me says the same thing. What makes you think you're any different?"
I stubbed out my cigarette, ready to leave. As I brushed past her, she grabbed my wrist.
"The first time I walked into the Schwimmer estate, I knew you were the lucky one! Why you? We came from the same dirt, so why did you get to be Mrs. Schwimmer?" Her voice rose with hysteria. "I'm younger, prettier! I'm clearly the better asset!"
"I'm begging you," she sobbed, "divorce him! Set him free!"
I frowned, about to wrench my arm away, when a deafening roar erupted from below. The building shuddered violently. The balcony railing groaned, then snapped.
When Damian and his men rushed up, the balcony had already fractured, leaving Jenna and me stranded on opposite, teetering sections.
"Boss! It won't hold!" one of his men yelled. "We can only save one!"
A second collapse was imminent. Whoever was left behind would face almost certain death.
Jenna was sobbing hysterically. My own face was pale with fear.
"Damian," I said, my voice trembling slightly, "the day I lost our baby, you swore you would never fail me again." It was my last, most pathetic piece of leverage.
Damian's jaw was clenched, his eyes a war of indecision.
Just then, Jenna shrieked, "Damian! I'm pregnant with your child!"
His pupils contracted. The decision was instantaneous.
"Get Jenna first!"
I watched as they scrambled to pull her to safety. The stone beneath my feet crumbled into nothing.
As gravity took hold and I plummeted downwards, I closed my eyes.
Of course, I thought. It's two of them against one of me. How could I ever win?
Luckily, I landed on a canvas awning, which broke my fall. I was found by a rescue team after being unconscious for a day and a night.
By the time I woke up, the news was everywhere.
[VALERIUM COLLAPSE SUSPECTED TO BE RIVAL SABOTAGE. DAMIAN SCHWIMMER FLIES TO SWITZERLAND WITH TRAUMATIZED LOVER FOR RECUPERATION AND PRENATAL CARE.]
The accompanying photo showed him protectively holding Jenna's waist. The departure time was the exact moment I was being wheeled into emergency surgery. Just like when I had miscarriedalone in a cold hospital bed, with no one by my side.
While Damian was away, I recovered in silence. His second-in-command, Ty, sent a constant stream of giftsfrom fresh orchids flown in from France to priceless jade necklaces. I threw them all out.
The day I left the hospital, I went to our old house in the Eastwood district. I burned everything he had ever given me.
As I walked out of the alley, a military-plated SUV was parked there. Damian was back, and he was waiting.
"Jenna's pregnant," he stated flatly, leaning against the car as he lit a cigar.
"As per our original agreement, the divorce settlement is sixty-forty. Your favor," I said, my face a blank canvas.
He squinted at me. "Mother will only ever acknowledge you as her daughter-in-law. Even with a baby, Jenna will never surpass you."
He took a drag from his cigar. "I can live without a mistress. I cannot run this empire without a queen by my side."
I understood. He didn't want to divorce me because he loved me, but because I was still useful.
"So? The one blocking your true love isn't me, it's your mother. Take it up with her." I started to walk past him.
"Mother wants you back at the estate in three days," he called after me. "When the child is born, it will call you 'Mother'."
I didn't break my stride.
I hitched a ride on a local's truck back to my villa in Aethel. A quick check of my accounts showed several tens of millions of dollars, a mere drop in the ocean of Damian's empire. They say power corrupts men, and corruption empowers women. If I could kill my feelings for him and maintain this sham of a marriage, I could live a life of obscene luxury.
But I would no longer be a prisoner in this gilded cage.
I bought a one-way ticket to Dubai, departing in three days. The moment the divorce was finalized, I would be gone.
Three days later, the negotiation at the old estate was tense. It all boiled down to whether Jenna could use the baby to secure her position.
Damian's mother was unyielding. "The child cannot be born. The Schwimmer bloodline will not be carried by some woman of questionable origin."
Damian tapped his fingers on the mahogany table. "The child will be born and raised under Evelyn's name. Since she can no longer bear children, this is the perfect solution."
"No," his mother snapped.
I set down my teacup. "The night I miscarried, you swore to me you would never have children with another woman."
Damian's voice was low and rough. "Evelyn, we can't live our lives bound by old promises."
Suddenly, a car horn sounded outside. It was a courier.
I went out and signed for the document. Inside were two crimson folders. Two certificates of divorce. I took mine and placed it in my bag.
When I turned, Jenna was standing right behind me, her eyes filled with venom.
"Evelyn, I hate you! Why does everyone protect you?"
I couldn't be bothered. I tried to step around her, but she grabbed my arm.
"I'm going to erase you from his heart completely!"
With that, she snatched a fruit knife from a nearby table and plunged it deep into her own stomach.
Damian and the others rushed out at the commotion, only to find Jenna crumpled on the ground, blood pouring from the wound.
"Damian... she tried to kill me... she wanted to kill our baby..." she gasped, pointing a trembling finger at me.
"Evelyn!" Damian roared, his eyes promising murder as he scooped Jenna into his arms.
I watched the melodrama unfold, my expression cold. "If the baby is lost, she has only herself to blame."
CRACK!
A vicious slap struck my face.
"You bitch!" His eyes were ice. "I'll deal with you when I get back!"
I watched them speed away, wiping a trickle of blood from my lip. My phone buzzeda reminder that my flight was boarding soon.
Sasha slipped over to my side and gestured at my phone. She had sent me a text. "Evelyn, I know it wasn't you. When you get to Dubai, if you need help, contact this person. His arms business is huge, and... he's always admired you."
I looked at the familiar name and number on the screen and nodded.
"Help me give this to him."
"And congratulate him for me. After eight years of waiting, his wish has finally come true."
I handed Damian's divorce certificate to Sasha, picked up my luggage, and walked toward the docks without a single look back. I had to take a boat out of Aethel Port before catching my connecting flight.
Standing at the railing, the wind from the mouth of the Serpentine River whipping around me, I dialed the number.
A calm, smiling male voice came through the line. "It's been a long time, Evelyn. I'll pick you up when you land in Dubai."
"Okay."
I clutched the ticket out of Karthus, my knuckles white.
Damian, it's been eight years.
I'm finally letting you go. And I'm finally setting myself free.

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