Amanda was so distraught that Quentin took her home immediately to comfort her. As night fell, he waited until he was certain she was sleeping soundly before gently kissing her forehead and slipping out of the room. He went to his study and dialed his secretary.
Secretary James, forced into "overtime" in the middle of the night, answered with his usual professional diligence. "Yes, sir. I have contacted the hotel. The surveillance footage has been scrubbed from their system and sent to your email."
Quentin sat before his computer and began the download. While he waited, his fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the desk. Tonight at the hospital, he had sensed a murderous intent radiating from Diego Solis.
"What are Diego's intentions?" Quentin asked in a low voice.
James, having just left the hotel, replied, "Vice President Solis has ordered Elena's 'execution.' He plans to wipe her out professionally and socially."
Quentin pondered this for a moment, recalling how helplessly Amanda had clung to him earlier. His calm eyes darkened with a rare, cruel light. "Wait until he is finished with her. Then, have our people deal with her."
James, who had been leaning back lazily in his chair, sat up straight. His eyes narrowed. "Yes, sir. Understood."
Quentin hung up as the download finished. He watched the video from beginning to end. He saw the girl he loved lose her mind, repeatedly smashing Elena's head into the floor. Even through the grainy footage, he could feel the raw, corrosive hatred in her eyes. He watched her spiral from a state of homicidal rage to one of agonizing, trembling helplessness on the floor.
He pressed a button and the screen went black.
He was unsettled. Amanda had a "crazy" side, but was it really just because Diego had been targeted? Diego was a powerful man; a scandal would hurt his reputation, but he would survive. Amanda's reaction, however, suggested something deeper—a hatred that seemed to be eating her soul from the inside out.
Why does she hate her this much? Quentin wondered, raising a hand to rub his face. He thought he understood her perfectly, but this was a side of her he couldn't explain.
"Amanda... who made you this miserable?"
At the hospital, Elena slowly regained consciousness. But instead of the care and concern she expected, she was met with Javier's ferocious, loathing gaze.
"Javier..." she croaked. Her face was a mask of bruises and swelling; every syllable was an agony.
Having suffered a string of humiliating losses at Quentin's hands, Javier's patience had finally snapped. He had endured months of frustration, and to him, the broken woman in the bed was simply a reminder of his latest failure.
"Why are you so useless?" Javier hissed, his voice full of venom. "You couldn't even seduce one man! Did you throw away all your skills after you finished seducing me?"
Elena was stunned. Her "gentle and elegant" Javier had vanished, replaced by a monster. To be beaten nearly to death by Amanda and then mocked by her lover was too much. Hot tears began to flow.
"Javier... how can you say that to me?"
Looking at her tears, Javier felt no pity. He lunged forward and grabbed her by the throat. "Do you dare ask why? Why would I keep a useless woman like you by my side? You aren't even half the woman Amanda is—at least she comes with a massive dowry!"
Elena gasped for air, his words stinging worse than the physical pain. Her sadness curdled into a sudden, desperate rage. Using the last of her strength, she gouged at Javier's eyes with her fingernails.
"You bastard!"
Caught off guard, Javier released her, clutching his face. Elena sat up, grabbed the flower vase from the bedside table, and hurled it at his legs.
"You call me a slut? What does that make you?" she screamed, pointing a trembling finger at him. "I've followed you for years without a name or status, and now you want me to just give my body to someone else for your benefit?"
Her voice broke as the tears fell in earnest. "I never complained because I loved you! I did it all for you! But how do you treat me? I was beaten half to death, and when I wake up, you just tell me I'm useless!"
"I'm not the useless one! You are! You're a coward and a bastard! Get out!"
Javier stood there, calmly smoothing the wrinkles in his suit as if she weren't screaming at him. He looked at her as if she were a hysterical stranger. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a check, and tossed it onto the table.
"You don't have to follow me anymore," he said indifferently. "Take the money. From this moment on, we have no relationship."
Elena froze, her breath hitching. "What... what do you mean?"
Javier didn't answer. He simply turned and walked toward the door. Elena was no longer a useful pawn to him; she had become a liability that would only further anger Diego and Quentin. Discarding her was the only logical move.
As he walked away, Javier briefly remembered the way Quentin had held Amanda. In that moment, he realized Quentin would truly do anything for that woman—a level of devotion Javier couldn't even comprehend.
The moment the door clicked shut, Elena let out a harrowing, broken scream. she threw everything within reach across the room before collapsing onto the bed in a fit of hysterical sobbing.
The man she had sacrificed everything for saw her as an object. Her youth, her love, and her loyalty had turned out to be worthless.