His Staged Abduction, My Broken Vows - Chapter 5: Chapter 5
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The moment I pulled into the driveway, my phone buzzed with a message from Marie.
[Flora, you're pathetic. I handed you a man on a silver platter, and you still couldn't keep him. Emeric's been glued to my side at the hospital all morning—no matter what I do, he won't leave.]
Attached was a video.
In the clip, Emeric was scrambling around, filling out Marie's medical forms, his forehead creased with real concern. That kind of worry doesn't come from acting.
Then it hit me—flashbacks of when I was sick. Emeric had always brushed me off with work excuses, leaving me with doctors while he walked away without a second glance.
But now? Marie takes a little tumble, and suddenly it's a five-alarm emergency.
The truth had been staring me in the face all along. I'd just been too blind to see it.
I knew he wouldn't be home tonight. For once, that worked in my favor.
I called a lawyer, had the divorce papers drawn up, and signed them without a second thought. I left them in Emeric's study along with an audio recording—one from the private suite, capturing him and his personal bodyguard in all their glory.
Then I packed up every last thing I owned in that house and shipped it all to San Mirren.
Just as I finished, Emeric called.
"Flora, don't be upset about this morning. My brother's not here, and before he left, he made me promise to look after his wife. He's the head of the family now—I don't have a choice. I had to stay with Marie at the hospital today, but just stay home and be good. Tomorrow, when I'm back, we'll take a quick trip to Europe. A little getaway will do you good."
I didn't get why a minor fall needed a whole day at the hospital. But since I was leaving soon, why bother arguing?
I gave a half-hearted "Sure" and hung up.
By noon, another message from Marie lit up my screen—this time, a video. It was filmed at the Jacob Enterprises-funded concert hall.
There, on stage, Emeric sat with his precious cello, staring at Marie like she hung the moon as he played Bach's Air on the G String—a piece Bach wrote for his wife, a symbol of undying love.
The final note faded, and the audience erupted in applause.
Then came the whispers.
[Isn't that the Jacobs' second son? Why's he playing something like that for his sister-in-law…?]
[Well, his wife's damaged goods after what happened to her. Guess he's moved on.]
Before the video even finished, Marie called.
Her voice slithered through the phone like a snake.
"Flora, remember six months ago? The men Emeric sent played with you for three days and nights. We watched every second live. You screamed so pathetically… And those same nights? I got pregnant with Emeric's child. Your cries made him even more… passionate."
Her laugh was sharp enough to draw blood.
My whole body shook, then came the dry heaving—violent, uncontrollable.
"Flora, you'll always be beneath me."
Click. She hung up.
Minutes later, my phone rang again.
This time, Emeric. His voice was light, almost cheerful.
"Flora, I wrapped up early. Meet me at our usual spot. You've had a rough week—let me treat you to dinner."
I glanced at my plane ticket—departure in just a few hours.
A slow smile curled my lips.
"Sure. I have a gift for you."
But the second I hung up, Emeric's gut twisted with unease.
Maybe he'd been too obvious favoring Marie today.
Maybe playing that song in the concert hall was a mistake…
And Flora? Her voice on the phone just now—too calm. Too willing. That wasn't her.
Dread crawled up his spine.
Without wasting another second, Emeric bolted from his seat. He barked at Pierre to get to the restaurant and watch Flora, then raced there himself.
But the universe seemed to conspire against him—delays, traffic, every red light.
By the time he screeched to a stop outside the restaurant, Pierre came sprinting out, face white as a sheet.
Emeric rolled down the window.
Pierre, his most trusted bodyguard, was gasping for air as he shoved two sheets of paper and a voice recorder into the car.
"Boss—she's gone. Your wife vanished. And that night… she heard everything we said outside the suite!"
Emeric's eyes dropped to the papers.
The bold black letters at the top seared into his vision:
"DIVORCE AGREEMENT."
[Flora, you're pathetic. I handed you a man on a silver platter, and you still couldn't keep him. Emeric's been glued to my side at the hospital all morning—no matter what I do, he won't leave.]
Attached was a video.
In the clip, Emeric was scrambling around, filling out Marie's medical forms, his forehead creased with real concern. That kind of worry doesn't come from acting.
Then it hit me—flashbacks of when I was sick. Emeric had always brushed me off with work excuses, leaving me with doctors while he walked away without a second glance.
But now? Marie takes a little tumble, and suddenly it's a five-alarm emergency.
The truth had been staring me in the face all along. I'd just been too blind to see it.
I knew he wouldn't be home tonight. For once, that worked in my favor.
I called a lawyer, had the divorce papers drawn up, and signed them without a second thought. I left them in Emeric's study along with an audio recording—one from the private suite, capturing him and his personal bodyguard in all their glory.
Then I packed up every last thing I owned in that house and shipped it all to San Mirren.
Just as I finished, Emeric called.
"Flora, don't be upset about this morning. My brother's not here, and before he left, he made me promise to look after his wife. He's the head of the family now—I don't have a choice. I had to stay with Marie at the hospital today, but just stay home and be good. Tomorrow, when I'm back, we'll take a quick trip to Europe. A little getaway will do you good."
I didn't get why a minor fall needed a whole day at the hospital. But since I was leaving soon, why bother arguing?
I gave a half-hearted "Sure" and hung up.
By noon, another message from Marie lit up my screen—this time, a video. It was filmed at the Jacob Enterprises-funded concert hall.
There, on stage, Emeric sat with his precious cello, staring at Marie like she hung the moon as he played Bach's Air on the G String—a piece Bach wrote for his wife, a symbol of undying love.
The final note faded, and the audience erupted in applause.
Then came the whispers.
[Isn't that the Jacobs' second son? Why's he playing something like that for his sister-in-law…?]
[Well, his wife's damaged goods after what happened to her. Guess he's moved on.]
Before the video even finished, Marie called.
Her voice slithered through the phone like a snake.
"Flora, remember six months ago? The men Emeric sent played with you for three days and nights. We watched every second live. You screamed so pathetically… And those same nights? I got pregnant with Emeric's child. Your cries made him even more… passionate."
Her laugh was sharp enough to draw blood.
My whole body shook, then came the dry heaving—violent, uncontrollable.
"Flora, you'll always be beneath me."
Click. She hung up.
Minutes later, my phone rang again.
This time, Emeric. His voice was light, almost cheerful.
"Flora, I wrapped up early. Meet me at our usual spot. You've had a rough week—let me treat you to dinner."
I glanced at my plane ticket—departure in just a few hours.
A slow smile curled my lips.
"Sure. I have a gift for you."
But the second I hung up, Emeric's gut twisted with unease.
Maybe he'd been too obvious favoring Marie today.
Maybe playing that song in the concert hall was a mistake…
And Flora? Her voice on the phone just now—too calm. Too willing. That wasn't her.
Dread crawled up his spine.
Without wasting another second, Emeric bolted from his seat. He barked at Pierre to get to the restaurant and watch Flora, then raced there himself.
But the universe seemed to conspire against him—delays, traffic, every red light.
By the time he screeched to a stop outside the restaurant, Pierre came sprinting out, face white as a sheet.
Emeric rolled down the window.
Pierre, his most trusted bodyguard, was gasping for air as he shoved two sheets of paper and a voice recorder into the car.
"Boss—she's gone. Your wife vanished. And that night… she heard everything we said outside the suite!"
Emeric's eyes dropped to the papers.
The bold black letters at the top seared into his vision:
"DIVORCE AGREEMENT."
End of His Staged Abduction, My Broken Vows Chapter 5. Continue reading Chapter 6 or return to His Staged Abduction, My Broken Vows book page.