Arielle walked down the long, dimly lit hallway toward Leo's nursery. Her wet shoes squeaked softly against the hardwood floor. The cold fabric of her coat slapped against her calves with every step.

Behind her, she heard Julian's voice.

"Just leave, Karli," Julian said. His voice carried a hint of impatience now.

The heavy front door clicked shut a moment later. The massive apartment fell into a suffocating silence.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind Arielle. Julian strode down the hallway, his long legs easily catching up to her.

He grabbed her wrist.

The sudden warmth of his large hand shocked her freezing skin.

Arielle flinched violently. She ripped her arm out of his grasp as if his touch physically burned her. She stumbled back a step, her chest heaving.

Julian's brow furrows. Genuine confusion mixed with rising anger at her physical rejection. No one rejected Julian Sinclair.

He stepped forward and trapped her against the wall, his large frame blocking any escape. He leaned his tall frame over her, trapping her in his shadow.

"Are you throwing a tantrum simply because Karli was here?" he asked, lowering his voice.

He looked down at her, his dark eyes searching her pale face.

"She was just dropping off files, Arielle. Your jealousy is irrational," he hinted, his tone dripping with condescension.

Arielle stared at the hollow of his throat. She felt absolutely nothing. No jealousy. No pain. Just a vast, empty wasteland.

Julian reached out. He brushed a wet strand of hair from her pale cheek. It was a manipulative form of intimacy, a habit he used to pacify her.

"Let's go to the master bedroom," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "I'll help you warm up."

The suggestion of sex as a band-aid made Arielle's stomach churn with revulsion. The thought of his hands on her made her skin crawl.

She turned her face away sharply. His fingertips grazed empty air.

"I am exhausted," Arielle stated flatly. "I only want to see our son, Leo."

Julian sighed heavily. He stepped back, dropping his hand. He ran his fingers through his perfectly styled hair, his frustration peaking.

"You always use Leo as an excuse to avoid your marital duties," Julian accused. His jaw tightened.

Arielle looked up. She met his eyes directly. Her gaze was devoid of the usual warmth and submissiveness he expected from her.

"There are no duties left to fulfill," she told him calmly.

Julian narrowed his eyes. A dangerous glint appeared in his dark irises. He adjusted his cuffs, a telltale sign of his rising temper.

"Excuse me?" he demanded.

Arielle took a deep breath. The cold air filled her lungs, giving her the oxygen she needed.

"Divorce," she said.

The word hung in the quiet hallway. It was heavy, solid, and irreversible.

Julian froze. The muscle in his jaw ticked rapidly as his brain processed the word.

Then, he let out a harsh, mocking scoff. He looked at her as if she were a child throwing a toy out of a pram.

"Stop being dramatic," Julian said. He shook his head. "This female hysteria over a minor slight is getting old."

He stepped closer again. His presence was threateningly soft.

"Sinclair men do not get divorced," he stated. It was a fact, not a negotiation.

Arielle did not back down. Her posture remained rigid against the wall.

"I will have my lawyer contact yours," she asserted. Her voice did not shake.

She turned away from him and grabbed the handle of the nursery door. She was desperate to escape his oppressive aura.

She pushed the door open and slipped inside.

Julian stood in the hallway, watching the door click shut. A deep, unrecognized seed of panic took root in his chest, but he quickly buried it under a layer of arrogant anger.

Arielle stepped into the softly lit nursery. The faint scent of baby powder and lavender washed over her, briefly calming her racing heart.

She approached the toddler bed. She looked down at three-year-old Leo. He was sleeping soundly, his small chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

The door clicked open behind her.

Julian had followed her inside. He was unwilling to let the argument drop. He hated losing control of any conversation.

"What do you want in the settlement to drop this nonsense?" Julian asked. He kept his voice low, but it was demanding and sharp.

Arielle gently pulled the soft blanket up over Leo's shoulders. She did not look back at Julian.

"I want nothing from your empire," she stated plainly. "Only full custody of Leo."

Julian crossed his arms over his chest. A cruel, dismissive smile formed on his lips.

"And how do you plan to provide for a Sinclair heir?" he questioned.

He stepped further into the room, his expensive leather shoes silent on the thick carpet.

"Your producer salary barely covers Leo's private preschool tuition in Manhattan," he reminded her. His tone was laced with financial superiority.

Arielle finally turned to face him.

"Money cannot replace a father who is never present," she countered.

Julian stepped closer to the bed. He looked down at his son. His gaze was analytical, as if inspecting a minor corporate investment rather than a child.

"I provide the best life possible for him," Julian argued. He pointed to the expensive, imported wooden toys scattered around the room. "He lacks nothing."

Arielle looked at him, feeling a deep, aching pity.

"What is Leo's favorite bedtime story?" she asked quietly.

Julian hesitated. His eyes darted to the massive bookshelf filled with colorful spines. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was completely unable to answer.

Arielle pressed further. "What is he severely allergic to?"

Julian frowned, annoyed by the interrogation. "Peanuts," he guessed. It was a standard answer.

He completely missed the mark.

"It's strawberries," Arielle told him. Her voice was laced with pity. "We have known that since he was one year old."

Julian's jaw tightened. A flush of humiliation crept up his neck at his own ignorance. But he refused to show weakness.

"Gena is paid handsomely to know those trivial details," Julian deflected, referring to the nanny. It was a blatant, defensive lie to cover up his sudden flush of embarrassment. He knew a severe allergy wasn't trivial, but his monumental ego refused to let him admit fault in front of the wife he usually dominated.

Arielle shook her head slowly. She realized the man standing before her was a complete stranger to his own child.

Suddenly, Julian's phone buzzed loudly in his suit pocket. The vibration broke the tense silence of the nursery.

Leo stirred in his sleep. He whimpered slightly at the sudden noise, his small hands clenching the blanket.

Arielle quickly leaned over, patting Leo's back in a rhythmic motion. She glared at Julian, silently demanding he silence the device.

Julian pulled out the phone. He glanced at the screen. The name 'Karli Lee' flashed brightly in the dim room.

Instead of declining it, Julian swiped the screen and answered the call right there in the nursery.

"Yes?" Julian said.

His tone shifted instantly. The icy arrogance vanished, replaced by a gentle, accommodating warmth.

"Did you make it to your cab safely?" he asked Karli, completely ignoring his wife's furious glare.

Arielle watched him. She listened to the soft timbre of his voice-a voice he never used with her anymore. The last invisible string tethering her to this marriage snapped silently in her chest.

Julian ended the call a moment later. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned back to Arielle as if nothing inappropriate had just happened.

Arielle pointed to the door. Her hand was steady.

"Get out," she whispered. Her voice was deadly and quiet.

Julian smirked. He felt he had regained the upper hand by showing he didn't care about her anger.

He turned and walked out of the room, confident she would yield by morning.