Simon clutched his gut, staggering upright with a contorted grimace. "Who the hell dares lay a hand on me?" he barked. "I'll make you wish you'd never been born, you piece of shit..."

The words caught in his throat the instant he saw who had hit him. Color drained from his face, his earlier fury melting into terror.

Recognition snapped his posture straight. His expression flipped as fast as a switch, a servile grin replacing his rage. "Mr. Fuller! What an honor—what brings you here today?"

Chris didn't so much as glance at Simon. His cool, detached gaze stayed on Hailey as he snapped, his voice carrying a cold, dangerous undercurrent, "Get lost!"

Simon bobbed his head in panic. "Of course, Mr. Fuller, right away!" He practically stumbled for the door, eager to vanish.

Once the door clicked shut, silence filled the room.

The tension was so thick it felt tangible, the kind that made every breath sound too loud as Chris and Hailey faced each other, neither daring to speak first.

Unable to read Chris's intentions, she finally ventured, her voice soft but steady, "Thank you, Mr. Fuller, for stepping in earlier."

Chris pulled out a chair without hurry and sat down, his gaze flicking over the neatly arranged documents she had prepared.

"You're welcome," he replied coolly, flipping through the pages with unhurried ease.

Hailey's confusion deepened with every turn of a page.

Everyone in their circle knew—unspoken though it was—that she was Kieran's wife.

Given that Chris was Kieran's fiercest rival, wasn't this situation supposed to be unbearably awkward for him?

Clearing her throat, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mr. Fuller, I just remembered I have something to take care of. I'll find a way to thank you properly another time."

She stepped forward to retrieve her documents, but his sharply defined hand pinned them in place, stopping her cold.

Her gaze drifted to the glint of a gold ring on his left hand, its tiny diamonds catching the light like fragments of glass. A small engraved letter shimmered faintly on its surface—too subtle for her to decipher.

Chris finally looked up, his eyes steady and unreadable. "Ms. Bennett," he said in a low, even tone. "You've got the kind of raw talent for photography that people chase for years. I'd like to invite you to join my company."

The offer caught her off guard. Her lashes flickered as she studied his face. "But you're aware of… my situation—with Kieran and you…"

"My interest lies in your skill, not your private affairs," Chris replied, his fingertips drumming lightly against the stack of papers between them. "If you're willing, come to my office tomorrow to sign the contract. I'll make sure the welcome gift exceeds your expectations."

Her thoughts spun wildly, confusion and caution warring inside her.

Why on earth would Chris make her such an offer?

After a long pause, she finally murmured, "Mr. Fuller, I appreciate the opportunity, but… I'm afraid I'll have to decline."

Chris's voice cut through the stillness. "Is this about Kieran?"

Her gaze drifted back to the gold ring, its diamond-studded band catching the light. The tiny engraving looked like an "H."

"It's not about him," she replied.

At the mere mention of Kieran's name, her eyes hardened, stripped of warmth.

Across from her, Chris remained composed, his expression unreadable, his quiet dominance born of long-honed authority. Even without a word, he radiated a steady command that made the air feel heavier.

Hailey finally confessed, her tone restrained, "I'm just a photographer. It's been years since I worked in any corporate setting. I doubt I'd fit in anymore."

Chris's mouth curved slightly, a faint, knowing smile ghosting across his lips. He didn't seem offended—if anything, he looked faintly amused.

"You wouldn't need to adapt," he said in a smooth, even voice. "Just keep doing what you're good at. The Fuller Group plans to produce a series of public service announcements, and I've seen how your camera captures emotion in ways others can't."

Hailey's fingers tightened around her folder as she thought it over.

For years, she had been running her own studio, enjoying the freedom despite the unstable monthly income.

Signing a corporate contract meant surrendering that freedom.

Yet with Kieran's relentless suppression tightening around her business, keeping it afloat had become an uphill battle. Worse, her mother's hospital bills loomed larger each month, mocking her dwindling earnings.

Kieran's empire only grew, and the one man capable of eclipsing him sat calmly across from her—Chris.

Sensing her hesitation, Chris leaned back, his tone measured but firm. "There's another option. I could invest in your studio as a silent partner. You'd still call the shots, keep your freedom—nothing about your creative process would change."

The proposal struck deeper than Hailey had expected. Her gaze flickered to him, her thoughts tangled between disbelief and intrigue. It was an offer almost impossible to reject.

"Mr. Fuller, why me?" she queried after a pause, her voice steady but edged with curiosity. "Fuller Group could have its pick of photographers. Why choose to work with me?"

Her next words came more quietly, laced with a weary resolve. "If your decision has anything to do with my marriage to Kieran, you should know we're already preparing for divorce."

Chris's satisfaction deepened, a faint curve tugging at his lips as his eyes lingered on Hailey with quiet amusement. "Calm down. Someone with such pitiful judgment—someone who can't even tell a pebble from a pearl—is hardly qualified to be my rival, let alone worth my effort to scheme against."

Hailey was caught completely off guard, leaving her momentarily stunned.

A pebble and a pearl? His disdain for Kieran seemed to run deep.

Rising from his seat, Chris let his shadow stretch across the room, the warm light outlining his broad frame.

Hailey found herself standing inside that shadow, compelled to tilt her chin upward to meet his composed gaze.

"Ms. Bennett," he said, his voice low and measured. "Go home and think about it. By tomorrow, I'm confident you'll give me an answer that satisfies us both."

She could only nod, the words settling heavily in her chest.

Even after returning home, Hailey's thoughts refused to settle. Chris's proposal felt like a puzzle she couldn't piece together, its edges sharp with hidden implications.

She couldn't let desperation over her mother's treatment push her into a decision she might regret.

Determined to quiet her mind, she turned her focus to packing, folding clothes with slow, deliberate movements as the echo of his voice lingered in her ears.

After three years in this house, her life fit neatly into a single twenty-inch suitcase—a depressing reminder of how little she truly possessed.

Her decision about the divorce was final. If Kieran refused to sign, she would take him to court without a second thought.

The phone beside her buzzed repeatedly, screen lighting up with new notifications.

Curious, she reached for it, only to see the trending feed flash with updates.

Before she could read further, the door burst open with a violent crack. Kieran strode in, his expression thunderous, fury shadowing his sharp features.

"What the hell is going on between you and Chris?" he demanded, his voice tight with accusation.

Hailey's brows drew together. "Why does that concern you?"

A cruel smirk tugged at Kieran's lips as his gaze swept over her with open contempt. "So that's it, huh? Now I understand your sudden rush for a divorce—you've found yourself another man. Hailey, you're still the same gullible fool. Do you really believe you can handle a man like Chris?"

In Grosford, Chris had a reputation carved in stone: cold-blooded, calculating, and impossible to outmaneuver.

Once he locked onto something, it was only a matter of time before it was his.

Kieran had always prided himself on his strength, yet every clash with Chris had ended in humiliation.

Hailey's expression turned cold, her voice laced with malice. "If you're hallucinating, get professional help. Stop projecting your twisted fantasies onto me."

He actually thought she was cheating? The accusation hit her like a slap. Even after years of marriage, he still didn't trust her.

That fight at the hospital had been her breaking point. From then on, she'd stopped clinging to any illusion of love between them. Yet hearing his accusations now made her ache with bitter clarity—how could she have ever fallen for a man like this?

Kieran's eyes turned dangerous, the shadows in them deepening as he stared her down.

"Hailey, I never realized just how deceitful you were." He yanked out his phone, the screen glowing with headlines that made her pulse jump.

"Malinda Fletcher Involved in Plagiarism, Stripped of Championship Title."

"True Winner of Photography Contest Revealed: Hailey Bennett."

A faint spark of disbelief flickered through Hailey's eyes. So this was the "gift" Chris had mentioned earlier. The satisfaction that came with it was sharp, almost vindicating.

Grinding his teeth, Kieran forced out, "If you really have nothing to do with him, why would he help you? Hailey, I'm giving you ten minutes to explain. Malinda's just starting her career—she can't afford to have it destroyed over this."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it.

Straightening, Hailey met his gaze head-on, her tone icy and precise. "What exactly do you expect me to explain? That the work I created was stolen from me and credited to someone else? And now that the truth's out, the thief gets to play the victim while I'm told to protect her reputation?"

He regarded her with a cold, indifferent stare. "You've got the talent Malinda only dreams of. No matter what she puts out, your work will always outshine hers. You can always produce better work, but she can't. So why are you still holding on to this?"

The level of nonsense in his words had Hailey on the edge of laughing in his face. "Let her fall—she earned it. Stealing someone else's work comes with consequences."

She reached for her suitcase. "Expect me at the courthouse by nine tomorrow morning. I want the divorce finalized before the day is out."

Never in a million days had she imagined the man she once loved could turn so repulsive. Staying another second felt impossible.

But when she stepped forward, a sudden, crushing hand clamped around her wrist.

The coldness in his gaze matched the iron grip as he held her fast. "Enough of this bullshit. Admit to the public that you are the real thief, or you'll fucking regret it."

With a sharp twist she freed her arm as though shrugging off a leash. "Who do you think you are? Back when I loved you, you felt like treasure; now you're nothing but garbage."

The finality in her voice left her gaze icy and impenetrable.

A sharp ache twisted through Kieran's chest before his phone started to ring. He answered without hesitation.

"Kieran…" Malinda's broken voice trembled through the line. "I'm completely terrified. Everywhere I look online, there's hate—people calling me names, even wishing me dead. I can't look at it anymore. Maybe… maybe it'd be easier if I just disappeared. Forgive me, Kieran, I just can't do this by your side any longer…"

His blood ran cold. Gripping the phone tightly, he strode toward the door, tension tightening every muscle in his body.

"Tell me where you are," he ordered, voice low but urgent. "I'll come get you right now. I won't let this get any worse."

Hailey stood motionless, a storm of emotions flickering behind her eyes.

Kieran had always been distant, almost mechanical in his restraint. In three years of marriage, she had never seen him show real emotion.

Yet now, worry bled openly across his face, his eyes clouded with panic, his hurried steps betraying a turmoil she'd never thought him capable of.

As the rumble of his car faded down the driveway, the lingering noise echoed in her ears. With her lashes trembling, she let her eyes slide shut.

For a long time, she had clung to the belief that if she kept pouring her heart into him, even a heart made of ice would eventually melt.

Only now did the truth finally settle in. The problem wasn't Kieran's aloofness; the cruel reality was that he had never harbored any love for her at all.

When it came to choosing between her and Malinda, his devotion and his disregard drew a painfully clear line.

Biting back the ache in her chest, she curved her lips into a bitter smile and walked out, the wheels of her suitcase rattling softly behind her.

Even though the Bennett family had collapsed into bankruptcy, she still owned a modest apartment she had bought before the marriage.

That night, exhaustion finally dragged her under, and she slept more peacefully than she had in years.

At first light the next morning, she woke up, reached for her phone, and dialed Chris's number. "Do you have time now, Mr. Fuller? I'd like to meet and talk about the studio."

On the other end of the line, Chris sounded almost buoyant. "Come straight to my office."

"Okay, I'll head over now."

Hailey swapped her outfit for something simple and comfortable, then hailed a cab straight to the Fuller Group headquarters.

During the ride, she couldn't stop herself from scrolling through her phone, checking for any updates on the plagiarism scandal surrounding Malinda.

As expected, every article about the photography contest had vanished overnight, wiped clean as if it had never existed.

Even Malinda's smear campaigns were gone, buried beneath an expensive wave of damage control.

The trending topic had already surpassed a hundred million views before it was pulled. Kieran undoubtedly paid an astronomical sum to bury it without a trace.

Hailey's grip on her phone tightened, her knuckles whitening as frustration simmered beneath her calm exterior.

When the cab rolled to a stop outside the glass tower, an assistant stood waiting by the entrance. "Ms. Bennett, Mr. Fuller is expecting you in the executive office."

Offering a brief nod, Hailey replied, "Thank you."

She rode the elevator up to the eighty-eighth floor, its ascent smooth and silent.

The door to the executive office was open, and Hailey knocked on the door. "Mr. Fuller."

Chris barely glanced up from the stack of documents before him, a faint, knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Come in."

Hailey stepped inside, her gaze sweeping across the minimalist office.

The sleek black-and-white décor radiated quiet authority, softened by the expanse of the giant floor-to-ceiling window. Through the window, the city stretched endlessly below—a blur of motion and light that made her feel as though she were standing above the world itself.

In this empire of steel and ambition, Chris Fuller was undeniably its ruler.

A soft clink drew her attention back as a cup settled onto the table before her. She looked up to find his steady eyes fixed on her, amusement flickering in their depths.

"Seems my little gift pleased you, Ms. Bennett," he said.

Her shoulders eased, tension melting slightly, though confusion lingered in her gaze. "Mr. Fuller," she asked carefully. "Why are you helping me?"

Kieran's reach extended into every corner of Grosford, and without Chris's interference, her name would have been erased without a trace.

That was exactly why Kieran had dared to hand her work to Malinda—he never expected anyone powerful enough to stop him.

Yet Chris had changed the game entirely.

Leaning back in his chair, Chris rested one arm on the table, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the polished surface. Sunlight caught the gold ring on his pinky, sending a warm glint across the room.

Hailey's gaze lingered on it for a moment—it looked oddly familiar, though she couldn't remember where she had seen it before.

"I've always respected genuine talent," he noted evenly, his tone calm but firm. "What I can't stand are cheap tricks. Credit belongs to those who earn it."

Lips drawn in a tight line, Hailey paused for a breath before speaking with quiet sincerity. "Thank you, Mr. Fuller, for everything you've done. If there's ever anything I can help you with, please don't hesitate to ask."

The corners of Chris's mouth lifted ever so slightly, his eyes glinting with quiet satisfaction. "Alright. I'll hold you to that."

With an easy motion, he slid a document across the desk. "The PSA's schedule is pretty tight. I'm wondering when you can officially start. This here's the shareholding agreement—look it over. If anything seems off, don't hesitate to bring it up."

"Okay." Hailey took the papers, her eyes skimming through the neatly printed lines.

The terms were remarkably generous—far beyond what she'd expected. Once the PSA wrapped, she'd still retain full independence.

A flicker of conflicted emotion crossed Hailey's eyes before she steadied herself and met his gaze. "Mr. Fuller, your offer is more than fair," she began. "But I'd like to ask for one additional favor."

One of Chris's brows rose, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "Go ahead."

"I'll soon be filing for divorce," she admitted, her tone low but firm. "I heard your legal team is the most capable in Grosford."

Watching his expression, she quickly added, "Of course, I'll cover all the fees myself—no matter the amount."

Determination underlined her voice. She was ready to pay any price for her freedom.

Maybe it was just her imagination, but the glimmer in Chris's eyes seemed to deepen with amusement.

"They will deliver a result that satisfies you," he replied smoothly.

Relief loosened the tension in her shoulders. Hailey picked up the pen, her signature flowing swiftly across the page. "Thank you, Mr. Fuller. I'll give my best to every task you assign."

She slid the signed contract back across the desk.

Chris took it with a measured glance, the corners of his mouth curving faintly. His signature had already been scrawled across the page—bold, decisive strokes that commanded attention.

Hailey's name followed below, her handwriting elegant and precise, a graceful contrast that somehow looked perfectly balanced beside his.

After a brief pause, Chris closed the folder with a soft thud. "Alright."

Hailey inclined her head and remarked, "Then I'll begin tomorrow. Please have someone send me the PSA's requirements."

"Will do."

Chris had barely finished his sentence when Hailey's phone lit up with a sudden ring.

Kieran's name flashed across the screen. Her expression tightened as she turned off her phone.

"Mr. Fuller," she said evenly, rising to her feet. "If there's nothing else, I'll be going."

He gave a brief nod. Once she stepped out, Chris pressed the intercom and called the assistant.

"Didn't Kieran express interest in a new project recently? Raise our offer and take it from him," he ordered.

"Understood, Mr. Fuller."

Leaving the desk, Chris moved to the window, city lights glittering beneath him like scattered jewels. His thumb brushed the gold band on his pinky as a faint, determined smile curved his lips.

He'd waited long enough for Hailey—this time, he wasn't letting her slip away.

…

Back at her apartment, Hailey switched her phone back on. Missed-call notifications filled the screen—Kieran had called dozens of times.

When it started ringing again, she let out an exasperated sigh and finally answered.

His voice exploded through the speaker, raw with fury. "Where the hell have you been? Why didn't you answer my calls?"

Calm and unshaken, Hailey spoke with the chill of someone who'd already made up her mind. "My whereabouts aren't your concern. The only thing left between us is the divorce."

She glanced at her watch and added briskly, "It's ten o'clock. Let's get it done today."

A dry, hollow chuckle slipped from Kieran. "You're that eager to toss me aside and spread your legs for Chris?"

"I don't sink to your level," she retorted, her voice cutting like ice. "I've tried to end this with some shred of grace. If you won't finalize it today, I'll take it to court tomorrow."

Her arrangement with Chris had always been her contingency plan.

Without missing a beat, Kieran fired back, every word laced with cutting intent. "Fine, we'll divorce—but not before you come to the hospital and apologize to Malinda in person. If it weren't for you, she wouldn't have slit her wrists."