The Last Threat

PART 2 — THE HUSBAND WHO STARTED TO PANIC

Daniel Blackwood had never been a man who tolerated rejection.

For four years, I had been the one chasing him. Now, suddenly, I was the one avoiding him.

On Saturday morning, I received a message from his assistant.

Mr. Blackwood expects you to attend the wedding tonight. A dress has been prepared for you.

I stared at the message before replying.

Please tell him I’m not going.

An hour later, Daniel called.

I let it ring.

He called again.

Then a third time.

Eventually, I answered.

“Emily, where are you?”

“At my apartment.”

There was a pause.

“Your apartment?”

“Yes. I signed the lease yesterday.”

His voice became colder.

“You moved out without informing me?”

I almost laughed.

“Daniel, I thought we had already discussed getting divorced.”

“We haven’t finalized anything.”

“Then you should speak to my attorney.”

He was silent for several seconds.

Then he said something unexpected.

“Come to the wedding. We need to talk.”

“No.”

“Emily, don’t test my patience.”

I looked out the window of my small apartment. For the first time in years, the morning sunlight seemed beautiful.

“I’m not testing your patience, Daniel. I’m simply no longer afraid of disappointing you.”

I ended the call.

That evening, I stayed home with Sarah, eating takeout and watching an old comedy.

Meanwhile, Daniel attended Michael’s wedding alone.

According to Sarah, who knew several people at the event, Vanessa arrived wearing a breathtaking silver gown.

She immediately approached Daniel and slipped her arm through his.

“Where’s Emily?” she asked sweetly.

“She couldn’t come.”

Vanessa smiled.

“Perhaps she’s finally learned that she doesn’t belong in your world.”

Daniel didn’t answer.

But when someone asked whether he and Emily were having marital problems, his expression turned frightening.

“She’s my wife. Watch your mouth.”

Vanessa’s smile disappeared.

For the first time, she seemed to realize that Daniel wasn’t as pleased with her comments as she had expected.

Three days later, I received a delivery at my apartment.

It was a diamond necklace.

There was a handwritten note.

Come home. We need to talk. — Daniel.

I placed the necklace back inside its box and sent it to his office.

I wasn’t interested in expensive apologies.

The next morning, my attorney called.

“Emily, there’s something you should know. Your husband has contacted our office.”

“What did he say?”

“He wants to delay the divorce proceedings.”

I closed my eyes.

“Why?”

“He claims the marriage can still be saved.”

I almost dropped my coffee.

Daniel Blackwood, the man who had threatened divorce whenever I disagreed with him, suddenly wanted to save our marriage.

But before I could respond, my attorney continued.

“There’s another issue. Vanessa Cole has been making public statements suggesting that she’s about to become Mrs. Blackwood.”

I felt a strange calmness settle over me.

“Let her make whatever statements she wants.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

That afternoon, I received a call from an unknown number.

It was Vanessa.

“Emily, we need to talk.”

I considered hanging up.

Instead, I asked, “About what?”

“Daniel and me.”

I leaned back in my chair.

“He’s free to be with whoever he wants. That’s why we’re getting divorced.”

She laughed softly.

“You’re making this sound easier than it is. Daniel isn’t someone you can simply walk away from.”

“Apparently, I just did.”

Her voice hardened.

“You think you’re special because you married him?”

“No. I think I’m exhausted because I did.”

There was a brief silence.

Then she delivered her final warning.

“Don’t make this difficult, Emily. Daniel has promised me a future.”

I smiled.

“Then I suggest you enjoy it.”

I hung up.

I thought that would be the end of it.

I was wrong.

The following evening, I returned to my apartment building and found two black SUVs parked outside.

Daniel was standing beside the entrance.

His face was tense, and his security team had positioned themselves around him.

When he saw me, he immediately approached.

“Get in the car.”

I stopped.

“No.”

“Emily, we need to talk privately.”

“We can talk here.”

His eyes flickered toward the people watching us.

“Don’t embarrass me.”

I looked at him for a long moment.

“Daniel, you embarrassed me for four years. I just never complained loudly enough for anyone to notice.”

His jaw tightened.

Then, unexpectedly, he lowered his voice.

“Have dinner with me tomorrow. Just once.”

I shook my head.

“There’s nothing left to discuss except the divorce.”

He stared at me.

Finally, he stepped aside.

As I entered the building, I heard him say quietly:

“You’re really going to leave me?”

I didn’t turn around.

Because the answer was yes.

And this time, I meant it.