The Laurent mansion was quiet, quieter than usual.
Marcus eased the sedan to a stop under the front entrance.
Usually when Damien got back home from an event, the house was full of energy.
The staff would greet people, make coffee or lay out the papers for the following morning.
And tonight’s silence was disturbing.
Marcus came out and opened the back door.
M.
Laurent.
eem.
Laurent.”
At first neither of them stirred.
Aria glanced quickly around the house in which she had lived for seven years.
Its warm lights shone through its tall windows.
She had planted the white roses along the drive.
The curtains she had bought.
Damien said it felt too cold, so she had redone the library.
Every corner had a memory in it.
But tonight…
It was as if it were someone else’s house.
She was first out of the car.
Good night, Marcus.
Good night, Mrs.
Laurent.”
Damien was right on her heels.
Harold the butler opened the front door.
Welcome home sir…
ma’am.
The smile faded the moment he saw the gap between them.
He had been with the Laurent family for over thirty years.
He could read a room before a word was spoken.
Dinner’s been kept warm.
“I don’t want to eat,” said Damien.
Harold looked over at Aria.
“Mrs.
Laurent?
She gave a polite smile.
“I’m okay, Harold.
“Thank you.”
The older man nodded.
But the worry was still in his eyes.
Aria was on her way to the stairs when Damien’s voice stopped her.
“We ought to talk before tomorrow.
She hesitated, but she didn’t look back.
“I think we have said enough for one night,’ I said.” This impacts us both.
“So did the speech.
And then quiet in the foyer.
Harold quietly excused himself, knowing that this conversation was not intended for witnesses.
When they were alone Damien spoke again.
I know you’re angry.
Aria swung around slowly.
No.’ Her voice was low.
‘I am disappointed.
It was a different thing.
Anger flared up and was gone.
There was disappointment.
It made you look at people differently.
The way you remembered ’em.
Without a word, she went up the stairs.
Damien kept his eyes on her until she was gone down the hall.
Then he loosened his tie and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
For the first time that night .
.
.
He was a man tired.
Aria quietly shut the door of the master bedroom.
The room was spotless.
The way she had left it that morning.
On the bedside table was a framed wedding photograph.
She took it up.
Damien was twenty-nine years old.
She was 24.
In the picture neither had smiled broadly.
She thought at the time that it was because they were both camera-shy.
She wondered now if Damien had been entertaining doubts she had never seen.
She flipped the frame.
Then she threw open the walk-in wardrobe.
Half of it was Damien’s.
Half she had.
She went for a suitcase.
Her hand paused halfway.
It seems rash to go tonight.
If I stayed, tomorrow would be harder.
She stood there nearly a minute, then returned the suitcase.
No, sir.
She would not run.
Tomorrow she would walk away with her head held high.
Her phone vibrated.
Sophia
Are you all right?
Aria smiled a bit.
Not really.
But I am at home.
The response was almost immediate.
I’ll be round after work tomorrow.
No arguments.
Despite it all, Aria laughed.
Some things never did.
Damien crossed the hall and instead of going into the bedroom, he went into his study.
He removed his jacket and flung it onto the chair.
His eyes fixed on a framed newspaper clippings.
YOUNGEST CEO RESCUES LAURENT HOLDINGS
Six years earlier than the article appeared.
He could vividly recall that year.
He’d been working eighteen-hour days.
Holidays Missed.
Birthdays forgotten.
It was temporary, he told himself.
That, once the company was secure…
He’d make time for his marriage.
The company had grown stronger.
He never did.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
“Come in.”
Noah came in with a tablet in hand.
I’m sorry to bother you so late.
“What is that?” You have to see this.”
Damien took the tablet.
His eyes went straight to the headline on the screen.
RUMORS OF ENGAGEMENT BETWEEN MYSTERY WOMAN AND BILLIONAIRE CEO
Under it…
A photo.
Damien and Vivienne shoulder to shoulder under the stage lights.
The article had already generated thousands of comments.
Then another image appeared.
Damien’s expression changed.
The second image was of him leaving the hotel…
Aria getting in the same car.
The caption underneath read:
WHO IS THE WOMAN IN THE CAR?
SECRET LOVER OR SECRET WIFE?
Noah said carefully.
The story’s going round very fast.
Damien stared at the screen in silence.
“Do you want to make a statement tonight?
His fingers closed around the tablet.
Before he could say anything…
The telephone rang.
The caller ID made his face go hard.
Victor Laurent.
His father.
Damien answered.
Father.”
Victor wasted no time.
“”Well, what did you do?”
Damien got up.
He said nothing.
His father’s voice roared from the study.
“I asked you a question.
I heard you.” Answer it.
Damien glanced at the article still on the tablet.
““It’s not as serious as the media is making it out to be.”
Victor laughed harshly.
Isn’t it?” “The board has been ringing me for the last twenty minutes.
“People are wondering if Laurent Holdings is the center of a public scandal.
Damien didn’t say anything.
Victor continued.
“I told you years ago.” “This is not business.” “It’s all business.”
His father’s voice was hard.
You are this company’s face.
“Once the reporters start asking questions, your private life becomes the company’s private life.”
Damien looked out of the study window.
The master bedroom lights were still on.
I’ll handle it.You’d better.
There was no answer.
Noah waited, wordlessly.
What do you want me to do, sir?
Damien returned the tablet.
“”Not tonight’s statement.
But the rumors—” “If we answer, we’ll only make them worse.
Noah nodded.
“And the next day?”
Damien stopped.
“Tomorrow…
I’ll deal with tomorrow.
Aria sat on the edge of the bed across the hall, the divorce agreement pulled up on her laptop.
She read every clause with care.
She wasn’t looking for any loopholes.
She just wanted to know when did her marriage become a legal document.
The deal was generous.
The mansion of the Laurents.
A few rental places.
A good pile of money.
Shares in two subsidiaries.
Damien had enough money to keep her from working another day in her life.
She was fighting to smile.
After seven years together…
He thought it was about money, too.
Her train of thoughts was broken by a soft knock.
Mrs.
Laurent?”
She recognized Harold’s voice immediately.
“Come in.”
An old butler entered carrying a tray of tea.
“I thought you might have missed your dinner.” “You always know.” I noticed that you skipped meals when you were anxious.
He set the tray down on the coffee table.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then Harold sighed.
“I’ve been in this family for 32 years.
Aria looked at him.
“I saw Mr.
Damien grow up.
He hesitated.
“I never saw him make sense of his own feelings.”
Aria looked down.
“”I don’t think feelings are the issue anymore.
Harold’s face relaxed.
“You’re one of the nicest people I ever met.”
She smiled faintly.
“Kindness won’t save a marriage.
“No.” He nodded sadly.
“But it says something about the person who gave it.
He excused himself, and softly closed the door behind him.
Aria looked at the untouched cup of tea.
Suddenly she recalled her first night in this house.
She had been afraid.
The mansion had seemed enormous.
She’d been trying to find the kitchen and got lost.
Damien walked beside her in silence until they found it.
He did not laugh.
He’d only just made her a cup of tea and said, ‘”You’ll get used to it.”
In those days…
That was his way to love, she thought.
Perhaps it was.”
Maybe somewhere along the way…
They’d stopped trying to understand one another.
The next morning came all too quickly.
The sun shone through the curtains at precisely seven thirty.
Aria was awake already.
She had slept less than two hours.
She showered, then dressed in a plain cream-colored blouse and tailored black trousers and pulled her hair back into a tidy low ponytail.
No fancy jewelry.
No heavy makeup.
Only her wedding ring was left.
She looked at it in the glass.
Then it slipped away quietly.
She put it in the velvet jewelry box on the dresser.
Then her finger grew suddenly light.
Her heart didn’t.
The dining room down stairs was unusually silent.
Damien sat at the end of the long table, reading the morning financial reports.
A cup of black coffee on his side, untouched.
Usually Aria would have told him to eat breakfast first.
Today …
She poured a glass of water and sat down opposite him.
A few seconds passed.
Neither of them spoke.
Damien folded the newspaper at last.
The lawyer will be there at nine.
I know.
Did you read the agreement?
Page upon page.
If there’s anything you want changed—” “”There is.
He looked up.
“”I’d like to put one condition.
“What illness?”
Aria held his gaze steadily.
“When the divorce is final…”
“She spoke in calm voice.… I don’t want anyone telling the story for me.”
A thin line appeared between Damien’s brows.
“I don’t understand it.“I won’t let the world think I was just a wife who disappeared.”
Her voice did not falter.
If people ask we will tell the truth.
What is truth?’
She looked at him.
“That we lost.
The words hung in the air between them.
Neither blame nor apology.
The plain truth.
Before Damien could answer the doorbell rang through the house.
Harold walked into the dining-room.
Sir…” ”
He looked doubtful.
‘There are several reporters outside the front entrance.
Damien frowned.
“”So early?
Harold nodded.
“And…
He hesitated.
“They wished to speak to Mrs.
Laurent.
Aria turned slowly toward the window.
Camera lenses glinted in the morning sun through the iron bars.
Somehow…
somehow…
The story had found her before she signed the divorce papers.