Jonathan Foster hadn’t expected that.
Though honestly, it was exactly what he’d been hoping for.
Part of the reason he’d called Eliana in personally was to angle for this outcome.
He was only the third son of the Foster family, while Nathaniel sat at the head of the entire Cole Group.
Jonathan had no interest in escalating a conflict between the two houses if he could avoid it.
Still, Eliana agreeing this quickly caught him completely off guard.
He’d walked in expecting to spend the whole meeting talking her down privately, not watching her fold in under a minute.
He studied her carefully, trying to read what was actually going on behind that decision.
But her oversized sunglasses gave nothing away.
Jonathan couldn’t get a single read on her.
“Let’s process the paperwork,” Eliana said.
She didn’t explain herself to either of the others.
Her gaze dropped to the polished wood grain of the conference table, its rings visible under the light and something about her stayed just as unmoved as that old wood.
“My work goes exclusively through Foster Entertainment.
Standard agency terms apply.”
She glanced sideways at Jonathan as she said it.
He caught the cue immediately and waved over the right staff to formalize the handoff to Vivian.
Vivian’s eyes flicked to Eliana, a flash of contempt in them.
“N.’s decision is certainly…
interesting,” she said, letting a note of sarcasm slip through a jab at how hard Eliana had pushed back before caving.
Eliana just smiled, offered no explanation, stood, and walked out of the office.
Out in the hallway, she stopped to pour herself a coffee.
Jonathan caught up with her.
“Eliana,” he said.
She turned and gave him a small nod.
“Mr.
Foster.”
His expression was conflicted.
After a moment, he finally asked, “Why?”
Eliana smiled faintly.
Looking at the confusion on his face, she asked, “Did you catch what she said?
About performing on Voice of Heaven?”
Jonathan didn’t fully follow, but based on what he already knew, he nodded.
“Yes I heard she’s appearing as a guest, not a contestant.
More of a judge or commentator role.”
Eliana’s smile deepened.
She set her coffee down.
“So, Mr.
Foster aren’t you a little curious how that’s going to play out?”
Jonathan looked at her, completely lost.
“Nathaniel and I already finalized the divorce paperwork.
We’re just sitting through the mandatory thirty-day cooling-off period before it’s official.”
She continued, “He told me his reason was giving Vivian a marriage certificate before she dies.”
“And she’s planning to use my song as her lead single on national television.
One day, everyone’s going to find out exactly who actually wrote it.
Doesn’t that sound like it’s going to be a fascinating night?”
She watched realization dawn across Jonathan’s face as she smiled.
“I’m genuinely looking forward to their expressions that night,” she said softly.
“Is this about revenge?” Jonathan asked.
She didn’t answer right away, just lifted her coffee and took a slow sip.
The bitterness settled somewhere deep.
“No,” she said finally.
“I just want to be done with both of them, completely, and put my energy back into my own life.” She looked out the window at the trees stirring gently in the wind.
“They forced this sale and walked straight into it themselves.
Why should I feel bad about that?”
Why, indeed.
Jonathan’s expression stayed complicated as he listened to her lay it all out so calmly.
The Hart family had once carried real weight in Ashford City.
He and Eliana were close in age, and he’d known of her existence since they were children.
If he was honest with himself, there had once been something like feelings there.
Eliana Hart, once the city’s most talked-about young heiress, the kind of woman half the men in Ashford, quietly measured everyone else against.
Then the Hart family fell, and the world moved on without a second thought for her.
That was simply how people worked.
If things had gone differently back then…
Jonathan looked away before Eliana could catch anything unusual in his expression.
“Divorce is fine by me too,” he said, after three seconds of silence.
Eliana looked at him with something close to gratitude.
“Thank you,” she said, meaning it.
“Mutual benefit,” Jonathan said, smiling back.
And it was true, in its own way.
The three Foster sons were locked in quiet competition for eventual control of Foster Group.
Whoever delivered the best results climbed fastest.
They exchanged a few more words, and Jonathan promised to keep the cooling-off period quiet before heading off to handle the paperwork.
Voice of Heaven could wait for later.
Eliana stood alone in the hallway, coffee in hand, watching the trees sway outside.
She lost track of how long she stood there.
Footsteps approached.
A familiar shadow fell across her space first.
She knew immediately it was Nathaniel.
She pulled her mask back up and turned her back to him.
“Why did you do that?” His voice reached her before she could walk away.
Calm.
Composed.
Carrying that particular authority that came from years of power and habit.
The breeze carried his usual scent along with its woody cologne layered with cigarette smoke.
Tom Ford, Oud Wood.
His signature.
“Your talent’s obvious in every line you write.
You’re genuinely gifted.
So why go out of your way to make things harder for a dying woman?”
Something in Eliana ached, hearing that.
She turned slowly and looked up at him.
His brow was furrowed.
“Me?” She met his eyes evenly.
“Talented, am I?”
Something like doubt flickered across his face.
“Mm,” he said.
“It’s simply a fact.”
Eliana smiled.
Talented.
A memory surfaced of their wedding night, a year ago.
He’d lit a cigarette in their bridal suite and said something very similar to her, once.
“Eliana, Grandpa’s health isn’t good right now.
I need you to focus on that.”
“Put the songwriting on hold for a while.
Take care of my grandparents properly.”
The smoke curling off his cigarette that night had matched his tone exactly.
Light.
Unbothered.
She’d told him she could manage both caring for his grandparents and continuing her music.
He’d frowned.
“Eliana, the Cole family doesn’t need you doing that kind of public-facing work.”
In the end, she’d agreed.
She told herself it was simply because his grandfather’s health genuinely needed her attention.
But deep down, she’d understood exactly what he meant.
Was it really about staying out of the public eye?
Or was it that her work, her “talent” had never once been something he actually respected?
He’d never once explained the difference to her.
Not even as husband and wife.
Not even after everything they’d shared in the most intimate corners of a marriage.
Nathaniel studied the woman standing in front of him now.
Something about her nagged at him, a strange sense that he’d seen her somewhere before.
But between the shoulder-length hair, the sharp, avant-garde suit, and the heels that traced the line of her legs so precisely, he couldn’t quite place it.
An unexpected irritation flared in his chest.
For some reason he couldn’t name, this stranger in front of him reminded him faintly, inexplicably of Eliana.