Leah Sinclair and Kian Hawthorne sat on the couch, separated by several cushions’ worth of space.
She cradled a glass of hot water in her hands, while he sat with his legs crossed, watching her with a detached expression.
Leah gently set the glass down on the coffee table and spoke slowly. "I know you never liked me to begin with. I was foolish back then. This marriage was a mistake from the very beginning."
Kian’s brow furrowed for a barely perceptible moment.
"You like Selene Shaw," she said softly. "I’ve always known that. The two of you are in love. I completely understand, and I wish you both the best. I don’t think there’s any need to keep the three of us trapped in this predicament. I’ll bow out, so you two can be together openly."
He stared at her coldly, his fingers unconsciously clenching.
Leah looked at Kian, entirely unsure why he was reacting this way.
"What’s wrong? Are you upset?" She thought for a moment before adding, "Oh, don’t worry, I don’t want anything. My name was never on the deed to this house, and I have no shares in the company. I’ll only take my own clothes.
"As for the jewelry Grandmother gave me, you already have it, and I don’t want it back. You can give it to Miss Shaw later.
"Also, my uncle has already been transferred out of Aethel Hospital. All his medical and hospitalization bills have been settled. My brother and I will cover everything from now on."
As she systematically laid out the terms of their divorce and asset division, he suddenly interrupted her with a chilling tone. "Are you quite finished?"
Leah froze. Looking up, she saw that Kian’s expression had turned to ice.
She pursed her lips. "Fine. Go ahead. What do you suggest?"
He stared at her coldly. His long legs were crossed in a seemingly relaxed posture, yet his hands had secretly balled into tight fists. "Do you have any idea what you’re saying?"
His words and tone were equally freezing. Leah felt as though she had just been slapped. Blood rushed to her head, and she glared back at him with red eyes.
Kian’s voice remained flat and frigid, giving her absolutely no chance to retort. "What kind of place do you think the Hawthorne family is? A place you can come and go as you please? Do you know how many women scheme constantly just to get their foot in the Hawthorne family door? How many of them are prettier than you, more obedient, from better backgrounds, and possess higher emotional intelligence? Why didn’t I choose them?"
He locked eyes with her.
"Do you really think you’re some kind of fairy princess? You just had sheer dumb luck. You managed to win over the old lady and ended up with a husband who values his public image. Divorce? How could someone like me possibly get a divorce? Hawthorne Corporation is a publicly traded company. If I change wives, I have to issue a public announcement. Do you even understand that?"
Leah gripped the fabric over her knees, her entire body trembling. Like a stubborn little animal, she glared fiercely at him.
Kian scoffed coldly. "What do you know? All you care about is your brother, your uncle, and your aunt."
RING. His phone went off, and he answered it.
"Hello, Selene. Yes, alright. I’ll head over now."
Hanging up, he cast another glance at the pathetic little woman before him, a cold smirk touching the corners of his mouth.
"You were right about one thing, though. I feel absolutely nothing for you," he said, pausing before enunciating every single word. "No matter who I care about or who I’m with, you will endure it and obediently play your role as Mrs. Hawthorne. Whatever grievances you have, swallow them!"
He grabbed his coat, strode to the door, and slammed it shut with a loud BANG.
Kian made it to the elevator before turning back. Pulling out his keys, he deadbolted the front door from the outside.
Leah was still sitting on the couch, not having fully processed what had just happened, when she heard the deadbolt click. She rushed over and yanked the handle, only to find she was locked in.
"Kian Hawthorne! What are you doing?! Open the door! This is illegal!" she screamed, pounding furiously against the wood.
Kian chuckled coldly from the hallway. "Take some time to reflect on your behavior."
He turned and stepped into the elevator, completely ignoring the desperate pounding echoing behind him.
***
Inside the bar, decadent jazz music swayed through the dimly lit air.
Selene Shaw and Theodore Jennings were chatting in low voices, occasionally bursting into laughter. Kian sat across from them, taking heavy gulps of his drink while scrolling through his phone.
Despite having the U.S. stock market updates open, he hadn’t absorbed a single word.
Selene slid closer to him. Staring at his profile, she asked with a smile, "Kian, you haven’t said a word all night. What are you looking at?"
Kian seemed not to hear her at all. His mind was entirely consumed by the argument he’d just had at home, replaying it over and over.
He had said a lot of harsh things to her today. She seemed deeply hurt.
He wondered why she had changed. In the past, she never talked back and always submitted to his every whim. Now, she was suddenly asking for a divorce and refusing to take a single penny. Was she playing hard to get? Did she really think such a clumsy attempt at reverse psychology would be enough to manipulate him?
He had locked her inside because he was afraid she might run away in a fit of pique. But what if a fire broke out in the apartment?
CRACK. The ice sphere in his glass suddenly fractured.
Kian snapped out of his thoughts. Setting his glass down, he grabbed his coat, muttered a curt "I’m heading back," and stood up to leave.
Selene felt bewildered and quickly stood up as well. "What’s wrong? Is something happening at home?"
Theodore sneered. "What could possibly be happening? Young Master Hawthorne is probably just worried that the woman he keeps at home is getting too lonely and might have an affair."
Kian was already heading for the exit, but upon hearing this, he stopped dead in his tracks.
Turning around slowly, his icy gaze swept over the useless playboy lounging on the couch.
Theodore immediately sensed the shift in the atmosphere. He opened his mouth to explain, but Kian grabbed him by the collar and hauled him off the couch with one hand.
"My wife is not someone a piece of trash like you gets to gossip about!"
Theodore was violently shoved back down. Selene shot him a look before turning to chase after Kian.
"Kian!"
She caught up to him at the entrance of the bar and grabbed his arm. "You’ve been in a weird mood all night. What’s wrong? Did you have a fight with your wife?"
Kian looked down at her hand gripping his sleeve, then coldly pulled away. "Selene, you’re crossing the line."
He stared at her and said frostily, "Stop prying into my marriage."
She stood frozen, watching his retreating back as he walked away.
Kian hired a designated driver. Sitting in the back seat of his car, his mind was still a chaotic mess.
He unlocked his phone and continued scrolling, only for a piece of breaking news on social media to catch his eye.
[Chain Guarantee Defaults: A Sleepless Night for Business Owners]
The accompanying photo showed a glue factory, its entrance mobbed by people demanding their unpaid wages and debts.
This particular glue factory belonged to Ash Sinclair. It specialized in manufacturing industrial adhesive used for mobile phone screens and accessories.
Kian tapped on the post and read through it carefully.
The independent journalist had written vaguely, but combined with what he already knew, Kian could deduce the full picture. Ash’s company was too small to secure direct loans from banks, forcing him to rely on a chain of mutual guarantees with other small businesses. One of the companies he had acted as a guarantor for must have fled with their money. Naturally, the creditors had tracked down the guarantor to force him to repay the debt.
Kian thought for a moment before opening his phone’s contacts. Finding the number for a bank president, he dialed it.
...
It was 2:00 AM by the time he returned home.
The living room lights were off, and the guest room door was shut tight.
Kian tossed his suit jacket onto the couch, walked into the master bedroom, and collapsed onto the bed.
He breathed in the clean, familiar scent of the room. Everything in their home had been picked out by Leah, purchased entirely according to his personal tastes.
He had spoken out of anger today. Surely, she had been doing the same.
He rolled over, his head resting against the pillow, and let out a long sigh. He still had a lot of work to deal with at the company, so he couldn’t afford a fire in his own backyard. He would just coax her into a better mood tomorrow.