Elaria ran into Liam in the parking lot.

Liam looked just as surprised. After a beat, he walked over, gaze deep and steady. "You're actually leaving Halden?"

Elaria nodded lightly. "Yeah. Time to go."

She tossed the suitcase into the trunk, slammed it shut, then turned to face him. "Thanks for what you did that night."

Liam studied her face-the calm, quiet look that gave nothing away. This was the Elaria he knew.

That night, she'd looked heartbreakingly fragile. Like something out of a fleeting dream.

His eyes darkened a shade, but he held back, nodding simply. "It was nothing."

Even though he seemed cool about it, after Elaria drove off, he stood there for a long time, staring into the distance, expression unreadable.

*****

At 8 p.m., Elaria reached Imperial Crest Residences.

As soon as she got out of the car, a warm hint of osmanthus scent brushed past her. It was oddly comforting.

The housekeeper approached quickly, polite and eager. "Madam, will you be dining alone tonight, or wait for Mr. Richards? The food's all prepped, just needs a quick stir-fry and it's ready."

Elaria paused, her tone quiet. "No need to cook for me anymore, starting today."

The housekeeper looked shocked, mouth half open to ask more, but Elaria had already stepped past the entry and up the staircase.

Upstairs, soft golden light filled the hallway.

Elaria slowed her pace. She stared silently ahead down the elegant corridor, each step pulling up memories-of her and Sebastian, of all they'd been through, the scars, the love, and the ache.

"Sebastian, you wanted power-I helped you."

"We won't always struggle like this, right?"

"Sebastian, it hurts. My stomach..."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Richards. After examining, your chances of conceiving are extremely low. You may want to consider adoption."

Every meter she walked felt like a lifetime. Like she was walking away from everything she'd once felt for him.

The night breeze skimmed across her face-cold. Numb.

She pushed open the bedroom door, flicked on the wall light. The room glowed soft and warm.

In four years, her world had revolved entirely around Sebastian. She'd stood by as he rose to the top. He was thriving... and she? She'd lost herself.

But now, she was finally free.

Elaria headed into the walk-in closet, dragging out several large suitcases. She started packing everything: the clothes she wore the most, the jewelry she once cherished. She wasn't leaving anything behind for Sebastian.

Once packed, she stood up and her eyes fell on the oil painting on the wall.

It was her own work, painted years ago-a youthful Sebastian, full of light.

But the love was gone. So, the painting didn't matter anymore.

Digging into her handbag, Elaria pulled out a lipstick. She slashed it hard across the painting, red marks bleeding over the surface, turning the image into chaos.

Little by little, Sebastian's face disappeared beneath the mess.

She had poured all her love into that painting. Now, she let all her hate do the same.

Not just the painting-Elaria grabbed a knife and cut their wedding photo into jagged pieces.

Glass shattered. So did the last ties of their story.

The once-happy smiles in the photo couldn't be mended anymore.

She let the knife drop to the floor, her hand trembling uncontrollably. She raised her hand to cover her face, eyes burning, almost as if she could still feel the stabbing pain from that night... when she'd lost everything.

Elaria left, not looking back.

The bedroom, once warm with life, was now a hollow shell. On the nightstand, a diamond ring lay still, catching the light-cold and distant.

In the ground floor garage, the housekeeper failed to stop her, watching helplessly as she drove off.

Once she snapped out of it, she quickly dialed Sebastian.

*****

VIP Inpatient Unit, Newgrace Hospital. At the end of the hallway, the tall windows were wide open, letting in the cool night breeze.

Sebastian stood there, tall and sharp in profile, answering a call from Imperial Crest Residences. The voice on the other side sounded panicked. "Sir, Madam has left."

He looked mildly annoyed. "Did she say where she was going?"

He didn't take it seriously-just figured Elaria was in a bad mood and out blowing off steam. A few days ago, didn't she go drinking alone?

He scolded the maid for overreacting.

There was a pause before the maid said softly, "She didn't say. But she took several suitcases. After we went upstairs to check, we realized all her clothes and jewelry are gone. The bedroom's a complete mess, sir... you should really come back and see for yourself."

His chest tightened a bit. He held the phone, standing frozen for a moment.

After a long silence, he hung up and quickly headed for the elevator. Light from the hallway spilled over his face, casting sharp lines against his cheekbones. Even his lowered lashes trembled faintly.

By the time Sebastian rushed back to Imperial Crest, night had fully fallen.

He took the stairs two at a time up to the second floor and pushed open the bedroom door he once shared with Elaria.

The door gave way softly, and his eyes were met with chaos.

Their wedding photo, once hung above the bed, had been smashed to bits-glass shattered all over the floor. The sweet smile they'd once exchanged during that shoot was now completely slashed through, barely recognizable under deep knife cuts.

He walked into the dressing area. Her closet doors were flung wide open, empty like they'd been raided.

All her clothes, all her jewelry-gone.

A painting hung crookedly on the wall-the one Elaria had always loved. She'd begged him back then to pose for it during their honeymoon phase. One of the few genuinely good memories in their marriage.

Sebastian just didn't get it. They had everything now-they stood at the very top. So why was Elaria growing distant, why was she causing all this drama?

Being Mrs. Richards was supposed to be some women's dream.

And she just... didn't want it anymore?

He refused to believe that.

Hands clenched, he stood among the shattered glass and dialed her number.

He honestly thought she was just trying to make a point. Maybe trying to get his attention. But to his surprise, the call connected-and she actually answered.

Sebastian's voice was sharp, filled with frustration. He told her that her little disappearing act would blow up and mess with their public image-bad press, rumors, all of it would hurt Halden & Co.

He barked into the phone, "You're being ridiculous! Elaria, this isn't just about you. Think about the bigger picture."

Her voice came back clear, calm, almost too calm. "There is no bigger picture left. Sebastian, the divorce papers are already being drawn up. You'll be getting a court notice soon."

His throat tightened. A long pause.

"...What are you saying?" His voice was hoarse.

There was a beat, then her tone turned cold. "Exactly what you heard. It's over, Sebastian. We're done."

And just like that, she ended the call.

He called again, but it was useless-her phone was already turned off, the automated message from the service provider playing over and over:

"Sorry, the number you've dialed is currently unavailable..."

Sebastian stood rooted on the spot for ages.

From the doorway, a maid spoke up carefully. "Miss Bianca called. She's asking to speak with you."

His temple twitched with restrained fury. In a low growl, he snapped, "Tell her to get lost!"

Elaria was gone.

She didn't want him anymore. His Elaria didn't want him anymore.

The same Elaria who once looked him in the eye and said she'd stay forever, that she'd always be by his side-no matter what...

Breathing hard, he held back the flood of emotions until something on the floor caught his eye. A folded piece of paper that had slid halfway under the bed-aged, yellowed, like it'd been there for years.

He frowned and bent down to pick it up. And when he saw what it was, his whole body froze.

It was a diagnosis form.

From an OB/GYN clinic.

Patient name: Elaria.

That single sheet of paper-Sebastian had read every word on it over and over again, until his eyes felt sore and dry.

And just like that, he got it. He finally understood Elaria's pain... and her tears.

It hit him-why that night in the parking lot, she completely lost it at him, shouting, "Sebastian, why won't you even give me five minutes? Are you still the man I married?"

His Elaria... couldn't have kids anymore.

He didn't love her, not in the way people talk about love, but she mattered. Deeply. She had been there for him for four full years, through the darkest parts of his life, standing beside him when he was still clawing his way to the top.

They'd made a promise when they got married-to have two kids.

"Ryan and Isabella."

He slowly sank down on the edge of the bed. The man who always looked sharp and in control now seemed... worn out. There was a rare slump in his shoulders, his confidence dimmed.

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it with a click of his lighter, and took a long drag. The cigarette burned while shadows curved along his tired, hollow cheeks. There was a certain roughness to him in that moment, the kind that drew eyes even in his silence.

At the bedroom door, the housekeeper hesitated, then said carefully, "Ms. Woods is here."

Sebastian didn't respond.

Ms. Woods had rushed over from the hospital. The shards of glass all over the floor left her completely speechless for a second.

The boss... had been dumped.

But Ms. Woods was a seasoned workaholic. She pulled herself together fast, professionalism kicking in. "Mr. Richards, how would you like to handle this moving forward?"

A haze of pale smoke curled around his profile. His voice was low, unreadable. "Bury it. Do whatever it takes-no word about the separation gets out."

Ms. Woods nodded. "Understood."

She glanced at him again and couldn't help but wonder. Weren't they supposed to be business partners more than anything? Then why did the boss look like a man who just found out he couldn't be a man anymore?

Was he really not in love with Mrs. Richards?

*****

Elaria moved into a new apartment.

It wasn't huge-probably around 120 square meters-but the location was prime, and the design was tasteful. From the bedroom's floor-to-ceiling windows, she could see half the city at night.

The next day, she went to visit her grandmother.

Her grandmother wasn't aware of what had happened between her and Sebastian. She just asked kindly, "Is life treating you well, dear?"

Elaria smiled, not wanting her to worry. "It's all good. Sebastian's been treating me well."

Divorce or not, life had to go on. Elaria decided it was time to go back to something she used to love-painting.

In just one week, she'd turned her apartment into a mini studio, pouring herself into her canvases.

She hadn't felt this relaxed in years. On a whim, she even brought home a dog-not a fancy breed, but all fluffy and white. Elaria instantly adored him and named him Snowball.

Over the weekend, she headed to an art exhibition.

There were hundreds of paintings displayed. Elaria's favorite piece was a floral work titled "Twins." She was just about to ask for the price when she noticed the artist's name:

Clarence.

Bianca's father.

Her mood shifted instantly. Right then, a soft female voice beside her said, "You're drawn to this one too, huh?"

Elaria turned and saw an elegant woman standing beside her.

Her style was tasteful, her features well-maintained, flanked by two assistants who looked sharp and capable. One look told you she came from a big-name family and wasn't just some trophy wife.

The woman smiled. "My husband's last name is Harmon."

Something clicked in Elaria's mind-this was Mrs. Harmon, the wife of Mr. Harmon from Aurvista Group. She remembered meeting her once before. Mr. Harmon usually handled business down south, so she'd only briefly run into his wife.

Noticing the recognition in Elaria's eyes, Mrs. Harmon's smile deepened. "I spotted you as soon as I arrived-Sebastian's wife, right?"

The Harmons ruled the South; the Richards dominated the North..

Her deliberate use of "Sebastian" showed how close the Harmons and Halden & Co. were-clearly, the business relationship between the two men ran deep.

Elaria didn't care about all that. She and Mrs. Harmon had a surprisingly genuine connection. They didn't talk deals. Just art and technique. The conversation flowed so naturally that Mrs. Harmon ended up inviting her for coffee. Elaria agreed without hesitation.

Inside the bright café, Mrs. Harmon stirred her coffee with a silver spoon, her smile calm and composed as she said, "That Mr. Clarence's paintings are quite good, but the man himself? Not so much. Honestly, not worth buying."

Elaria gave a small, polite smile.

She was about to say something when she noticed a shadow cross Mrs. Harmon's face-just a flicker, like she had drifted into memory.

Her assistant leaned over gently and said, "Please don't dwell on sad things, ma'am. If you get sick again, Mr. Harmon will be worried sick."

Mrs. Harmon gave Elaria an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry to speak of such things in front of you, Mrs. Richards... It's just something lodged in my heart for years. When I was younger, I loved someone who didn't love me back. I had his child, but then... I was hurt by others. When I woke up, my five-year-old little girl was gone. Just vanished. Thankfully, I later met my husband, and he's been searching with me ever since. We've looked everywhere, but there's still no trace of my daughter."

Her voice cracked at the end, and tears welled up in her eyes.

She remembered clearly-her daughter had a small reddish mole near her waist. Mrs. Harmon believed that if she ever saw it again, she would know, without a doubt, that the girl was hers.

Elaria, an orphan herself, felt a deep ache for her. She reached over and gently held her hand. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Mrs. Harmon took comfort in her presence. "I feel like I've known you forever. That must be why I'm saying all this. Please don't mind my rambling."

Elaria replied softly, "Not at all. I really believe that fate is strong between a mother and daughter. You'll find her again."

Mrs. Harmon smiled through tears. "I hope you're right."

Then, as if remembering something important, she pulled out a business card and handed it to Elaria. "We're having a little party at our villa soon. I'd love for you to come. I know you're ambitious-I'll introduce you to some helpful people."

Elaria, not wanting to turn her down, accepted the card with a nod.

When they were saying goodbye, Mrs. Harmon stood beside her luxury car, looking reluctant to part. It had been a long time since she'd felt such warmth talking to someone-this moment reminded her of the days with her little girl.

Her assistant quietly reminded her of the time.

Only then did Mrs. Harmon release her hand. "Let's catch up again very soon."

Elaria stood there, watching the sleek car drive away.

She thought about Mr. Harmon-he must really love his wife to give her such care and comfort, and never asked for children of their own all these years.

The thought left her emotions tangled.

*****

By 9 p.m., Elaria finished the last stroke of paint and leaned back, stretching.

Snowball wagged his tail like crazy beside her.

She filled up his bowl and tossed in a bit of chicken sausage-he devoured it happily.

After petting him for a bit, she went to grab a robe for her shower, but the damp weather had left everything on the balcony still wet and clammy to the touch. With a sigh, she opened her closet to find a shirt she could use instead.

Under the warm lights, her pale fingers trailed along the fabric until they stopped on a black shirt.

It was Sebastian's.

Somehow, it had ended up in her luggage when she moved out.

She paused, then pulled it out. He wouldn't even notice.

Ten minutes later, she stepped out of the shower wearing the oversized black shirt. Her wet hair dripped over her shoulders as she reached for the blow dryer-but just then, the doorbell rang.

Figuring it was Annie, she didn't think too much and went to open the door.

The moment she did, she froze.

Sebastian stood there, tall and silent. His frame blocked most of the light from the hallway. Elaria couldn't quite read his expression, and had no clue why he'd shown up now, so late in the evening.

It had been a whole week. Not a single word exchanged.

She was sure he'd received the court notice. What was he here for?

Sebastian's eyes stayed locked on her.

Elaria was wearing nothing but an oversized black dress shirt-barely buttoned, barely decent.

The thin fabric clung to her skin, and below the hem, a sliver of pale, exposed thigh caught the light like a silent provocation.

There was something clearly territorial in Sebastian' eyes.

Elaria felt her patience snap. She hadn't wanted to see him in the first place-wasn't that what lawyers were paid for? They were supposed to handle the divorce, not drag her into messy confrontations.

She went to shut the door, but Sebastian was faster. He stuck his foot between it and the frame, forcing his way inside with practiced ease.

As soon as the door clicked shut, she found herself wrapped tightly in his arms.

His grip around her waist was firm, almost desperate. Without giving her a chance to fight back, he kissed her hard-borderline frantic. She couldn't even break free; they stumbled toward the couch in a mix of resistance and reluctant surrender.

The couch cushions sunk under them, giving him the upper hand.

Sebastian had never acted like this before.

The room was flooded with warm light, her soft voice breaking the charged air, but none of it cut through the haze in his mind. Not until a faint red mole near her collarbone caught his eye-only then did he seem to pause.

His breathing was rough, and when he leaned in to whisper in her ear, his voice was hoarse, nearly broken. "You like me, don't you?"

Her whole body froze.

Because yes, she had liked Sebastian. Since she was twenty. He knew that. He had always known it. But he had never bothered to ask. And now, of all times, he decides to bring it up? Was he kidding?

She wasn't about to answer that.

So when she kept silent, he simply pressed her further.

Still tangled on the couch, Elaria gripped his hair, her voice faint from the close contact. "Sebastian, chill. It's not even my ovulation window. No matter how hard you try, nothing's gonna happen."

That got him to look up.

His dark, intense eyes locked onto hers. Her pale, delicate face with that slightly damp black hair spilling over the coffee-colored cushions-everything about her looked like a prelude to temptation. The oversized black shirt hung on her in tatters, barely doing its job.

She was the kind of beautiful that made men forget reason. And yet, Sebastian's eyes reddened slightly.

He reached down, gently resting a hand on her stomach.

Soft. Flat.

Elaria tilted her head back, voice trembling. "I'm not trying to get pregnant."

"I know."

His voice was even rougher than before.

Still, his hand lingered, warm and steady, like he was trying to memorize her shape. Time felt like it slowed to a crawl. Then he leaned in, kissing her again, the emotion in it so thick it weighed heavy.

Every touch, every move screamed of longing.

But just as quickly, he stopped. He was breathing hard, sprawled over her, clearly fighting back whatever storm was building inside.

He'd never lost control around her like this-never been this close to forgetting himself altogether.

Elaria pushed him off.

She looked worn but kept her calm as she reached into her nearby bag and pulled out the divorce papers, tossing them against his chest. Her voice was low and raspy. "You can hold the twenty percent in your name. I'll just take the dividends. God knows you understand what I've put into Halden & Co. these past four years. The real question is, do you think it's worth it?"

"It is," he said quietly.

"But I'm not giving it up."

His eyes darkened, unreadable.

She looked down at herself, then seemed to make a decision. Hooking an arm around his neck, she pressed up against him. "Sign the papers, and I'll give you what you want. You seem like you could use the stress relief."

His brow creased. "Where'd you even pick up stuff like that?"

Elaria gave a bitter smile. "Honestly, Sebastian? It kinda feels good to be the one bargaining now. I spent years breaking my back for you. And how did that pay off? Getting tossed out of Halden's front gate. So yeah, I figured I might as well ask for money."

Sebastian shifted, pulling away. He sat up straight, reached into his coat pocket, and fished out a pack of cigarettes. Lighting one with smooth precision, he took a drag.

He almost never smoked indoors.

That said enough. Elaria was pissed. That jerk had been all over her on the couch for ages, and now she looked like a total mess, while he still looked like he walked out of a fashion ad-coat on, shirt perfect, face smug.

Something felt off about Sebastian.

He had to be nursing a broken heart.

But honestly, she had no business digging into his love life anymore. Any woman with clarity knew better.

Elaria didn't bother kicking him out. Watching him puff away like some moody artist didn't interest her either. She pulled her damp hair back, secured it with a claw clip, slipped on her slippers, and headed for the kitchen to make herself a bowl of plain noodles.

She wasn't bad in the kitchen, actually. Just that after marrying Sebastian, there weren't many chances to cook.

Now that she lived alone, simple meals were all by her.

In a little while, the smell of scallions filled the kitchen-warm and comforting, like real life.

Sebastian sat on the couch and caught a glimpse of her from behind. That black shirt was dangerously short, her legs fully on display. She looked tempting without even trying. But then she bent over the cutting board, slicing green onions and ginger with practiced ease-oddly domestic.

"Wife material" suddenly felt like a real thing.

He stared, brows drawing together. Somehow, a version of Elaria like this... probably made a lot of men dream.

With that uncomfortable thought, Sebastian stubbed out his cigarette and started nosing around her place.

It was small, but well-kept.

She'd even transformed a room into a tiny studio.

He pulled back the cloth on her easel. There was a half-finished painting-stars and ocean, not him. Back then, when she painted, it was always him.

His fingertips brushed across the canvas. The strokes made his heart twist.

After a long pause, he stepped softly into the cramped kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. They hadn't been this close in forever.

His lips brushed her neck, his voice low and rough: "So... this is the life you want? A tiny place under 150 square meters, doing grocery runs, quietly turning into someone no one notices?"

Elaria didn't even flinch. After being married to him for four years, she'd dealt with this kind of closeness a lot.

This? This barely counted. Been there, done that.

Without pausing, she stirred her noodles and said coolly, "Yep. That's exactly the life I want. And once the divorce is final? It's gonna be even better. I could upgrade to 2000 square meters, hire ten maids, and if I feel like it, bring home a good-looking guy and party all night."

Sebastian's face changed. He bit her neck.

"You're still my wife," he said through gritted teeth.

"Not for long," she replied.

Then, just like that, he spun her around.

He looked at her-really looked at her-with those unreadable eyes. After a beat, his voice came out husky: "If that's really the main issue between us... Elaria, then I can give you that too."

Once upon a time, that might've worked.

But now? She'd built up immunity to Sebastian's charm. Sweet talk and smooth moves meant nothing. She'd already fallen hard once, paid the price, bled for it.

She turned back to her noodles, while he suddenly insisted on another bowl.

He clung to her, saying he was hungry.

Her hand paused mid-stir. The image of him and Bianca flashed in her mind. Her lips curled. "Yeah, I bet you're starving, Sebastian."

He reached out and ran his calloused fingers over her stomach. Tonight, for some reason, he was drawn there.

After a moment, his voice dropped even lower. "I didn't touch her."

Elaria didn't respond.

That night, Sebastian didn't leave. Even the dog tugging on his pants couldn't change his mind.

In the end, Elaria had to give up half her bed.

Right before sleeping, he pinned her down, fingers lacing tight with hers, and kissed her like his life depended on it.

Only on their wedding night had he ever acted like this.