Five Years Up I Reveal I'm The Richest He Kneels And Begs novel Chapter 83

Chapter 19: Ghosts in the Mirror

Rain wept against the study window.

The TV screen glowed, a financial news anchor’s voice cutting through the gloom:

[Rising star Nadia Sterling claims Lume Ateliers Gold Medal! Her ‘Stardust‘ brand valuation soars past $14.04 million USD]

Footage flashed: Nova Sterling, radiant in white silk, accepting the award. Her eyes held starlight. Confidence flowed from her like a current.

“The key to success?” A reporter’s mic hovered. Nova’s smile was serene. “First, learn to love

yourself.”

Zane’s fingers clenched. A tremor ran through his hand.

“In related news, Ms. Sterling’s newly established ‘Song Foundation‘ empowers marginalized

female entrepreneurs. Over 300 women have achieved financial independence through…”

The voice faded into static.

Zane stumbled to his feet. Down the hall. To her room. Sealed for months.

The door creaked open. The ghost of jasmine lingered—a scent she’d loved.

Her half–empty hand cream sat on the vanity. Forgotten loungewear hung in the closet.

Zane reached out, fingers brushing soft cashmere–a beige sweater. Her scent still clung faintly

to the fibers.

Memory ambushed him. Three winters ago. Midnight. He’d found her asleep on the sofa, wrapped in this very sweater. She’d blinked awake, eyes soft with sleep, murmuring, “You’re home.” She’d hurried to the kitchen to reheat bone broth… and burned her hand on the pot.

How often had she waited? How often had he walked past her care?

The front door crashed downstairs.

The butler’s voice, strained, “Master Zane… The bankers. Again. They’ll initiate asset seizure next

week if…”

Zane waved a dismissive hand. Alone again, he collapsed onto her vanity stool. The mirror

Chapter 10 Choste in the MA—

reflected a stranger–hollow eyes, unkempt stubble. The titan was gone.

His phone buzzed. Director Mitchel:

[Zane. Watched you grow up. A final warning: Board voted. Your chairmanship ends next week.

Prepare.]

A bitter laugh escaped him. His gaze snagged on a corner of paper peeking from the vanity drawer.

Inside lay a leather–bound journal.

Nova’s elegant script filled every page:

March 15: Zane’s stomach pain flared. Remind cook: bone broth daily.

May 20: Pollen season. Antihistamines in all car gloveboxes.

July 8: Anniversary. Found the Cartier cufflinks he admired.

The final entry, one week before the divorce:

Tomorrow: His birthday. The Patek Philippe finally arrived. Black Forest cake ordered–less sugar, NO peanuts. Pray they remember his allergies… when I’m gone.

Zane’s vision blurred.

That birthday. The watch he’d callously trashed for Ivy’s sake… Had he even registered it was the exact limited edition he’d once casually praised?

Sudden applause erupted from the TV.

He looked up. Nova faced a phalanx of international reporters.

“Ms. Sterling,” a journalist asked, “Your previous marriage—did it hinder your career?”

Nova’s smile held no bitterness, only wisdom. “It was essential. It taught me the paramount lesson— Never surrender your soul for anyone.”

Zane slammed the remote, the screen died with a fractured crack

Silence. Only the rain’s relentless drumming remained.

He stared at his hollow reflection, suddenly seeing her back as she walked away that final day—

unbending, irrevocable.

When had she truly decided to leave?

When he’d offered his marrow for Ivy’s lie? When he’d abandoned her for Ivy’s whims? When his mother’s cane had lashed her back?

Outside, the storm intensified.

The manor’s power failed. Darkness swallowed the room.

Zane sat motionless in the blackness at her vanity. His hand rose, brushing something cold and wet on his cheek.

He finally understood:

The universe’s cruelest punishment wasn’t bankruptcy. Or betrayal.

It was clarity arriving too late—seeing the woman who once worshiped the ground you walked on become a thriving beacon… forever out of reach.

Yet he refused surrender. Remembering, remembering how fiercely she’d loved him–how could she discard him over trifles?