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.

Early in the morning, the street-spraying truck drove past the apartment building with a familiar tune playing-"Almost Lover" Elaria had always liked that song.

A faint bit of morning light filtered into the bedroom, the curtains swayed gently.

Sebastian was already gone.

He hadn't forced her into anything last night, just woke up repeatedly and kissed her over and over again...

It was like he'd been holding back for too long. In those half-awake kisses, she vaguely heard him whisper, "Elaria, let's start over."

"Start over..."

Those two words held so much weight to her. But the pain they'd been through still haunted her. That night at Eclat Haven, the storm in his eyes also shook her. She was scared-scared that it would all end up being just another dream.

For three or four days after, Sebastian kept showing up.

Nothing dramatic-he'd come by late at night, eat a bowl of noodles with her, hold her to sleep without crossing the line, and leave before she woke up. It felt like how it used to be back when everything was still fresh.

Then one day, he just stopped coming.

He didn't call. She didn't call either. She was neck-deep in plans to open her own studio-starting small, with a gallery, and maybe eventually branching into art auctions.

She did talk to Mrs. Harmon about her ideas. The woman praised her, "Mrs. Richards, you're really capable."

Elaria didn't bring up anything about her and Sebastian. Things were still in limbo between them-not something to go announcing to the world.

Days slipped by, one after another.

Before she knew it, fall had hit hard. The leaves had turned yellow and brittle.

That day, she got a call from one of the caretakers. The woman sounded hurried, "Your grandma had a fall-nothing too serious, but she's at Heartwell Medical Center. You should come quickly."

Elaria was in the middle of discussing a storefront space, but the second she got the call, she rushed to the hospital.

Nothing mattered more to her than her grandma.

She could still remember-years ago, in the dead of winter, she was just a five-year-old waif trembling on the street, so thin she was all bones. Her grandma had picked her up, brought her home, warmed her up by wrapping her in blankets, and slowly nursed her back with food.

They only had each other back then. Her grandma had suffered through so much just to raise her.

Once she got married and had the means, Elaria bought her a big house and hired two people to look after her.

Half an hour later, Elaria arrived at the hospital, heart pounding.

Luckily, it was just a sprain.

She finally let out a quiet breath.

Crouching beside the bed, she gently brushed her fingers through her grandma's silver hair and said softly, "Alright, I'll go get the admission papers sorted."

Maggie, standing nearby, chimed in with a smile, "Miss Grace really is impressive! This room's the best one in the entire hospital. Even the director stepped in when he saw her."

Her grandma's eyes crinkled with joy. "Our Elaria's always been the most capable."

Elaria patted her hair again and headed out.

The VIP ward area had a bit of traditional charm-two aged villas with a garden in between, maple leaves flaming red in the crisp fall air.

She slowed down to take in the scene-

And froze.

At the other end of the corridor-

Sebastian was holding Bianca, with Clarence and his wife trailing behind them. The four walked out in a line. Bianca leaned gently against Sebastian like she was made of glass, and her husband-her Sebastian-looked at her with that soft, tender expression.

Elaria stood there, numb, staring at the man who just a few nights ago held her close and said he wanted a fresh start. Now he was out in public with another woman in his arms, acting like gossip didn't even exist.

She couldn't help thinking: how deep must the love be to turn a blind eye to rumors like that?

Elaria really didn't want to stick around. She turned to leave, but right then, a soft, sugary voice called from behind, "Mrs. Richards."

She turned and looked at the lovely little duo.

Bianca clung to Sebastian, deliberately sounding innocent. "Mrs. Richards, there's nothing between me and Sebastian. I wasn't feeling well, that's why he was carrying me."

Before Elaria could say a word, Mrs. Thompson chimed in with a polite yet totally distant tone, "You must be Sebastian's wife? Bianca and Sebastian grew up together, they've always looked out for each other. I'm sure you don't mind, do you?"

Elaria glanced at Sebastian. He still hadn't let go of the girl in his arms. He just frowned slightly.

She wasn't in the mood for any love triangle nonsense. Honestly, she just found the Thompsons annoying. She gave a cold chuckle. "Mrs. Thompson, your daughter sneaking around with Sebastian is her own business. But dragging it into public? That's just trying to be disgusting on purpose. Whether I mind doesn't matter-what matters is whether your daughter is fine being with a used man like Sebastian."

Mrs. Thompson flushed with anger and snapped, "Figures. Orphans are always so poorly brought up."

"Aunt Thompson!" Sebastian cut in, his voice low but firm. Even at his age, there was a kind of pressure in his tone that instantly made Mrs. Thompson shrink back.

He finally set down Bianca and tried to reach for Elaria's wrist. "Let me explain later."

She brushed him off without hesitation.

Her voice carried a mocking edge. "What's left to explain, Sebastian? Let's stop pretending. There's really nothing worth talking about between us anymore."

Clarence tried to smooth things over. "I think this could all be a misunderstanding-"

"Is that so?" Elaria turned to him. "Then can you promise your daughter won't ever talk to Sebastian again?"

Clarence hesitated.

And here came Mrs. Thompson again, sharp and nasty: "Miss Grace, the unloved one is the real home-wrecker!"

Clarence quickly scolded her, but Elaria didn't bother arguing anymore.

She looked at Sebastian and said flatly, "Think it over. Sign the papers soon so your sweetheart can finally get her title."

Then she turned and left, not a single ounce of hesitation in her step.

Life's fragile like that-she'd wasted enough time already.

Behind her, Sebastian stood still among the red maples, quietly watching her walk away. His expression dark and unreadable.

*****

Evening arrived. Up on the hospital rooftop, the sky was burning with golden clouds, warm and wild in the wind.

Elaria leaned against the railing, taking in the whole Caelmoor skyline, her mind drifting to what lay ahead. She was lost in thought when steady footsteps echoed behind her.

She turned-and there stood Liam.

He came up beside her, matching her stance as he gripped the rusted railing. After a pause, he turned slightly to look at her profile. "Because of Sebastian?"

She didn't say anything.

Liam didn't seem to mind. He looked back out at the sunset, voice calm. "Back then, it made sense that you liked him. Out of all of us, Sebastian really stood out. Even when he was young, he knew exactly what he wanted. I used to think I was ruthless, but he... he beats me by miles."

"He's just as cruel to himself as he is to everyone else."

Liam stopped talking and turned his head, just watching her silently.

The sun cast a glow on her face, and the tip of her nose was a little red-it looked like she'd been crying.

He swallowed hard.