**Chapter 30** Friday afternoon, a storm brewed within Avery's heart, each beat echoing with the finality of her decision. “Madam, Master Elliot will be returning tonight. You should come home as well!” the voice on the other end of the line urged with an earnestness that was as familiar as the air she breathed. Since that fateful day when Elliot had shattered her life with the demand for an abortion, Avery had sought refuge in her mother’s embrace, grappling with the weight of betrayal and heartache. “Enough is enough. It’s time to sever this bond for good,” she declared, fortifying herself even as she hung up. With steely resolve, she turned her gaze towards Elliot’s grand mansion, a place that now felt like a gilded cage. As twilight descended, painting the sky in hues of orange and violet, Elliot’s private jet touched down at the airport, its engines purring to a stop. A black Rolls-Royce awaited him, flanked by his ever-vigilant bodyguards as he slid into the luxurious interior. Surprise, however, was already seated beside him. “How do you like my new hairstyle, Elliot?” Chelsea chirped, adorned in a frilly pink dress that seemed meant to dazzle. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, the light capturing the wavering confidence in her smile. Elliot’s eyes darkened, a tempest brewing within him as he registered her presence. The luxurious ambiance of the car felt stifling; an icy tension enveloped him, shifting the atmosphere in an instant. “What’s the matter, Elliot? Do you not like my look? Is it the dress? Just say it!” Chelsea’s voice quivered like a fragile leaf, anxiety etched across her features. In a sudden eruption of fury, Elliot’s hand shot out, delivering a biting slap that sent her reeling against the door. Stunned silence enveloped the car as her thoughts spiraled into tumult. “Get me scissors!” Elliot spat, his voice low and lethal. The bodyguards sprang into action, bolting from the car like hounds on a hunt. Chelsea sat there, trembling, her cheek throbbing, taste of metallic blood pooling at her lips. Bewilderment clouded her mind; she had known Elliot for a decade, yet never had he unleashed such wrath upon her. “Avery Tate!” The name rang in her head like a tolling bell, igniting a flicker of realization. “No, wait! Let me explain!” Chelsea’s voice cracked as panic surged within her. “Avery told me to dress like this! She wants to rile you up; it’s not me! Please, Elliot, listen to me!” Tears streamed down her face as she clutched his arm, desperation clawing at her. Just then, the bodyguards returned, scissors glinting ominously in the dim light. “Cut her hair and that dress off her!” Elliot commanded, his voice a chilling decree. Chelsea gasped, horror rendering her immobile as the realization dawned. Why was he so angered by her appearance? What had she missed? The weight of his gaze felt like lead, suffocating, dropping her spirits into the abyss. Before she could process further, the bodyguards yanked her from the car, slamming the door shut with a finality that echoed within her soul. “Drive,” Elliot ordered, his tone brooking no argument. Meanwhile, Avery paced nervously in the living room of the mansion, the scent of dinner lingering in the air, but her appetite had long evaporated. A sense of impending confrontation coiled in her stomach; she was ready to face Elliot and demand the divorce she so desperately needed. As the clock approached eight, a familiar silhouette materialized in the driveway. A Rolls-Royce glided into view, its presence commanding as Mrs. Cooper hurried to greet Elliot. Avery’s heart raced as she moved closer to the window, the autumn night chilling her bones. Darkness draped the world outside, casting an eerie shadow over the mansion that had once felt like home. Elliot emerged, propelled into the living room in a wheelchair, his attire a stark black that mirrored the storm swirling within him. His expression was a mask of intimidation, an impenetrable wall of anger and hurt. “Elliot Foster,” Avery spoke, her voice trembling yet resolute, “when are we getting divorced?” He paused, looking up at her, a flicker of disbelief dancing in his eyes. “Divorce?” he echoed, the weight of the word hanging like a blade poised above them. In that moment, the air crackled with tension, two hearts entwined in a battle of wills, both uncertain of what move would come next.