Chapter 3: She’s My Wife
When Adrian pulled back, Elena’s eyes were shining.
She looked embarrassed, emotional, and still painfully aware of everyone watching.
Lucas ran back to her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
Adrian turned slowly.
Only then did he look at Victoria.
The warmth disappeared from his face.
Victoria took a small step back.
“Adrian,” she said quickly, forcing a laugh. “This is clearly a misunderstanding. I thought she was—”
“A servant?” Adrian asked.
Victoria swallowed.
“I didn’t know.”
Adrian stepped in front of Elena and Lucas, placing himself between them and Victoria.
“That is not an excuse.”
The runway went silent except for the soft wind pushing dust across the asphalt.
Victoria’s lips parted, but no words came out.
Adrian’s voice stayed calm.
That made it worse.
“You stood in front of my plane,” he said, “and humiliated my family.”
Victoria’s face went pale.
“Your family?”
Adrian looked directly at her.
“She’s not a nanny. She’s my wife.”
The words struck harder than a slap.
One of the drivers looked away.
The security guard lowered his eyes.
Victoria stood frozen, still holding the sunglasses she had used like a symbol of status only minutes before.
Elena tightened her arms around Lucas.
Lucas looked at Victoria with quiet caution, then leaned closer to his mother.
Adrian continued, his voice cold and final.
“And the boy you tried to confuse is my son.”
Victoria shook her head slightly.
“I didn’t know she was your wife.”
Adrian’s expression did not change.
“No,” he said. “You didn’t know she mattered. That was enough for you to be cruel.”
The words left Victoria completely silent.
Adrian turned toward one of the men near the SUVs.
“Make sure Ms. Victoria is escorted off the runway.”
Victoria’s eyes widened.
“Adrian, please. You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
Two security staff stepped forward.
Victoria looked at Elena once, as if waiting for her to defend her.
Elena said nothing.
Not out of cruelty.
Out of peace.
Victoria was led away across the hot runway, her expensive dress moving in the dry wind, her arrogance stripped away in front of the people she had tried to impress.
Adrian turned back to Elena.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
Elena shook her head.
“You came.”
Adrian looked down at Lucas, then back at her.
“I’ll always come.”
Lucas reached for his father’s hand.
Adrian took it.
Then he took Elena’s hand too.
Together, the three of them walked up the metal stairs toward the private jet.
This time, no one blocked their way.
At the top step, Elena paused and looked back at the runway.
The rough asphalt.
The black SUVs.
The place where she had been judged by a uniform and defended by the truth.
Then Adrian squeezed her hand gently.
May you like
Elena turned forward.
And walked into the jet beside her husband and son, not as someone hidden, not as someone beneath anyone, but as the woman Victoria should have respected from the start.
