Chapter 3

The news of Tori' s lavish support for Julian Vance and his family was everywhere. VME press releases detailed multi-million dollar investments in Julian' s "artistic endeavors." Tabloids splashed photos of Tori gifting Julian' s mother a luxury penthouse, his sister a controlling stake in a VME subsidiary. It was a public spectacle of her new devotion, a constant, glaring reminder to Ethan of his displacement.

Then came the reports of Julian' s sudden, mysterious ailment – a rare vocal cord paralysis that threatened his "provocative" performance career. Tori, in a frenzy, mobilized VME' s resources, flying in specialists from around the world, offering astronomical sums for a cure. When initial treatments failed, she reportedly locked herself in her office for days, emerging only to issue increasingly desperate orders. There were whispers she' d even threatened to bankrupt a leading medical research facility if they couldn' t help Julian, then later, rumors she' d offered her own VME shares as collateral for an experimental, high-risk procedure. She even threatened to harm herself if Julian wasn't cured. Her obsession was terrifying in its intensity.

Ethan watched it all from the sterile confines of the small, private apartment VME had moved him to post-divorce – a gilded cage, still, but one with slightly looser bars. He saw Tori' s frantic devotion to Julian, the same all-consuming fervor she had once directed at him. And a bitter truth settled in his heart: her love, if it had ever been love, was not unique. It was a consuming fire that simply moved from one object of desire to the next. He had been replaceable. His pain, his sacrifices, meant nothing in the face of her new fixation. The realization was a slow, emotional death.

His primary concern now was Maya. Her condition was stable, thanks to the ongoing treatments, but the divorce settlement, while generous, wouldn' t last forever, especially with the escalating costs. He needed a plan. A permanent escape.

He went to the long-term care facility where Maya resided, a quiet, specialized unit. She was asleep, her small face peaceful against the white pillows. Her breathing was shallow, aided by a quiet machine. He sat by her bed for hours, holding her small, frail hand.

"Hey, May-bug," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "It' s me. Things... things are going to change. I' m going to take you away from all this. Somewhere safe. Somewhere quiet. Just you and me." He talked to her for a long time, telling her about his plans, about the quiet coastal town he' d found on a map, a place where no one would know Liam Kincaid or Ethan Miller. A place where they could finally be free.

The first step was to erase Ethan Miller and Liam Kincaid. He contacted a discreet lawyer, someone who specialized in new identities, far removed from VME' s sphere of influence. The process was complex, expensive, but necessary. He needed to become a ghost. He also set up a trust, anonymously funded, to ensure Maya' s lifelong care, no matter what happened to him.

Next, he began to sever the physical ties. The custom-made guitars Tori had gifted him, once symbols of her patronage, now felt like chains. He had them appraised and sold, the money added to Maya' s trust. The expensive clothes, the designer watches, the penthouse apartment filled with art she' d chosen – he liquidated it all, meticulously erasing every trace of her influence from his life. He kept only a few personal items: a worn photo of his parents, Maya' s favorite stuffed animal, his old, battered acoustic guitar from his Philadelphia days.

The final act was the most painful. He gathered every memento of his life with Tori: photographs, letters, small gifts exchanged in moments of what he' d once believed was genuine affection. He took them to a secluded beach, far from the city, built a small fire, and watched them burn. Each curl of smoke, each flicker of flame, was a release, a painful but necessary severing. He was burning his past, burning the love he' d once felt, a love that had turned toxic and destructive. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the smoke, as he watched his old life turn to ash.

As the last embers died, he heard the crunch of tires on the gravel road behind him. He turned, his heart lurching. Tori. And Julian, looking smug, by her side. They must have followed him.

Tori surveyed the dying fire, her expression unreadable. Then, her eyes landed on the old guitar case at Ethan' s feet.

"Ethan, darling," she said, her voice casual, as if they' d just bumped into each other at a cafe. "Julian has been admiring that old Martin you have. The one my grandfather gave me, that I gave to you. He thinks it would suit his new, more... authentic image. Be a dear and let him have it, won' t you?"

Ethan stared at her, speechless. The guitar was a priceless heirloom, a symbol of the Vanderbilt legacy, but more than that, it had been Tori' s most personal gift to him, given in the early days, a gesture that had felt like a promise. And now she wanted to give it to him. The disrespect was a physical blow.

Julian, smirking, stepped towards Ethan. "Yeah, Miller. Hand it over. It' s wasted on a has-been like you."

Ethan clutched the guitar case tighter. "No."

Julian' s smirk vanished. He lunged, shoving Ethan hard. Ethan stumbled backward, his feet tangling. He fell, not onto the soft sand, but down a short, steep embankment hidden by the dunes, landing with a sickening thud on the rocks below. Pain exploded in his ankle.

Julian peered down at him, then, with a deliberate movement, kicked a loose rock, sending it tumbling onto his own foot. He let out a theatrical cry of pain.

"He attacked me, Tori!" Julian shrieked, clutching his foot. "He pushed me! He tried to break my ankle!"

Tori rushed to Julian' s side, her face a mask of concern. "Julian, darling, are you alright?" She didn' t even glance at Ethan, lying injured among the rocks.

She looked up at Ethan, her eyes blazing with fury. "How dare you! After everything I' ve done for you, you attack Julian?"

"Tori, he' s lying! He pushed me!" Ethan cried out, struggling to sit up, the pain in his ankle searing.

She ignored him. She grabbed a piece of driftwood from the beach, her face contorted with rage. "You ungrateful bastard! You' ll learn to respect what' s mine!"

She scrambled down the embankment and brought the driftwood down on his outstretched arm, again and again. The pain was blinding.

Through a haze of agony, Ethan remembered a time, years ago, when a music critic had written a scathing review of his first VME album. Tori had been incandescent with rage. She had used the full might of the Vanderbilt empire to destroy the critic' s career, to silence him, all in the name of protecting Ethan, her Ethan. Her devotion had been terrifying then, too, but it had been for him. Now, that same terrifying force was turned against him, all for a manipulative charlatan.

Was this "game" with Julian ever just a game? Or had she truly found a replacement, someone more malleable, more exciting, someone who reflected her own distorted desires? The question echoed in his mind as darkness threatened to consume him.