Seven Years of Love Seven Minutes of Truth novel Chapter 121

Chapter 11 

Atlas’s vision cleared, the haze of rage dissipating, leaving behind nothing but a cold, steely resolve. 

“Take her to the police.” His voice was devoid of emotion, final. 

A sharp gasp filled the air as Ivy struggled to fill her lungs with oxygen, her body wracked with violent coughs. She clutched at her throat, her breath hitching as she stared at him in disbelief, horror mingling with desperation. 

“No… you can’t do this to me,” she choked out, her voice breaking. “Atlas, you love me!” Her eyes glistened with hysteria. “You promised–you said you’d always protect me!” 

Atlas didn’t spare her a second glance. 

With a curt wave of his hand, his security team moved in, grabbing Ivy as she thrashed in their hold, her screams echoing through the vast estate. 

The moment the door slammed shut, the house was plunged into an eerie stillness. 

Atlas inhaled sharply, forcing his racing heart to steady. “Still no sign of Celeste?” 

The answer came quickly. “No, sir. There’s been no trace of her.” 

His throat tightened. Without another word, he turned and ascended the stairs, his footsteps heavy as he entered our 

bedroom. 

The bed was untouched, the sheets still faintly carrying my scent. Atlas lowered himself onto the mattress, burying his face into the pillows as if he could will me back into existence. 

His fingers brushed against a single long strand of hair left behind on the fabric. Carefully, he picked it up, cradling it against his chest. 

A breath trembled from his lips. And for the first time in years, a single tear slid silently down his face. 

“Celeste… where are you?” 

He lay on my pillow, staring at the ceiling, the past rushing back with cruel clarity. 

The way I had looked at him on those late nights, my gaze hazy with love. 

The way I had whispered his name, curled up against his chest, believing that I was safe in his arms. 

His body jolted upright as a sharp, searing pain shot through his chest. 

He gasped for air, but it felt like a weight was pressing down on him, suffocating him. 

He had to get out. 

Atlas bolted down the stairs, shoving open the front door as he stumbled outside, the cold night air hitting his 

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Seven Years of Love, Seven Minutes of 

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Chapter 11 

burning skin. 

But it didn’t help. 

Every shadow, every scent, every lingering memory was like a blade against his already torn apart soul. 

He staggered toward the driveway, his body moving on instinct, but the crushing grief wouldn’t let him go. 

Atlas collapsed onto the steps of the grand entrance, his hands gripping his hair, his eyes vacant. 

The rain began to fall. Soft at first, then heavier, until it was a downpour. 

Yet he didn’t move. The icy water seeped into his clothes, his skin, his bones, but the numbness had already settled in long before the rain had. 

His body swayed, exhaustion dragging him under. 

Then, everything went black. 

On the other side of the world. 

The midday sun beat down relentlessly, beads of sweat trickling down my skin as I pressed forward, my boots digging into the rocky path. 

I was nearly there. My breath was ragged, my limbs heavy, but as I lifted my gaze, my heart swelled. 

The mountain peak stood just ahead, towering against the endless blue sky. 

A weary smile tugged at my lips. With one last push, I stepped onto the summit. 

The world unfolded beneath me–a breathtaking expanse of valleys and rivers, rolling hills and endless horizons. 

I threw my arms open, letting the wind rush past me, carrying away the last remnants of my old self.