The boardroom was silent. Not the comfortable kind. The heavy, unnatural kind that clung to glass walls and slick surfaces .
Beyond the windows, the city sprawled in its usual glittering arrogance. But inside…inside it felt like everything had already died.
Kian Vale sat at the head of the table, legs crossed, posture effortless. Charcoal suit. Obsidian cufflinks. Not a hair out of place. He looked exactly like the man the headlines named The Ice Heir. Cold. Untouchable. Beautiful in that maddening way that made people forget he was dangerous until it was far too late.
He didn't look at her.
Lianna Serein Vale sat across from him. Back straight. Hands still. No jewelry. No makeup. Her blouse was plain. Her heels scuffed. The kind of woman no one noticed…unless they knew how to look. And he used to. Once.
Now? She could've been anyone.
Except for the way she stared at him. Unmoving. Unblinking.
A secretary entered, set the divorce papers between them, then slipped out.
Kian didn't flinch. Didn't sigh. Didn't so much as glance her way.
"Sign," he said. His voice smooth, unreadable. "Let's not waste time."
Just like that. No hesitation. No goodbye. Three years, erased like a bad number on a ledger.
Her heart didn't break. That had already happened…in the quiet. In the spaces where he used to be, and then stopped showing up. In the silences that stretched longer than their conversations. In all the mornings he woke up and said everything but her name.
So she nodded.
Reached for the pen.
Paused.
Then calmly set it back down.
From her bag, she pulled out another folder. Thicker. Older. Kian's eyes flicked toward it. His brow twitched.
"What's that?"
She opened it with steady fingers.
"A copy of our original marriage contract," she said. Quiet. Precise. "The one drawn up by my mother's lawyers. Before she passed."
His lips curled slightly. "We had a prenup. I've read it."
"You read what your father gave you," she said, sliding a page across the table. "This is from the full marital merger agreement. Clause 12B."
The lawyer at the end of the table leaned forward.
Kian didn't move.
So she read it herself.
"In the event of divorce, full asset division…including pre-marital holdings and shares in Vale Corporation….shall favor the Serein partner, in accordance with the strategic alliance approved by both families at the time of union."
Kian blinked.
And then….for the first time….he looked directly at her.
"That clause wasn't in the version I signed."
She nodded. "Because you didn't read it. You were in a rush to lock in the marriage before the shareholders' vote. Remember?"
His stare sharpened. "You wouldn't dare enforce it."
A breath passed between them.
Then she smiled.
Not out of cruelty. Not even satisfaction.
Just the smallest, saddest thing. A smile cut from something soft that had long since turned to steel.
"It activates automatically," she said. "Upon signing the divorce."
The lawyer cleared his throat. "It's enforceable."
Kian said nothing for a moment. Then, jaw tight, he signed.
No comment. No fight. Just that same icy detachment he'd used to end everything else.
He shoved the pen toward her.
"Take your charity and leave."
She stood.
No drama. No revenge speech. Just quiet finality.
She slipped the wedding ring off her finger and placed it gently on top of the signed contract.
"This wasn't charity," she said, voice low. "It was the price of my silence."
Still, he said nothing.
She walked to the door.
Stopped.
For one heartbeat, it looked like she might glance back.
She didn't.
"I'll take what's mine now," she said.
And left.
Spine straight. Chin high.
And Kian Vale…for the first time in their entire marriage…turned his head.
And watched her go.
•
Flashback – Three Months Before the Divorce
It was raining again.
The kind of rain that whispered against the tall windows of the Vale mansion…soft, steady, indifferent. Inside, everything was quiet. Polished. Cold. A house dressed up like a home.
The front door opened.
Kian Vale stepped in, shaking off the water from his coat. Another long night. Another meeting. His tie hung loose, collar undone, but he still carried that untouchable calm. Power looked easy on him.
He didn't say a word as he passed the staircase.
Upstairs, Lianna sat at her vanity. She'd already changed…simple nightgown, hair pinned back. She looked like a woman fading out of her own life. Fragile in a way that didn't ask for pity.
There were two beds in the room.
His….larger, untouched.
And hers, smaller. Not quite a stranger's. Not quite a wife's.
He came in, barely glanced her way, and headed to his side of the room.
She broke the silence first.
"Did the meeting go well?"
He shrugged off his coat. "Productive."
No warmth. No details. No reason to ask again.
She looked at the calendar beside her mirror. One date circled in red.
"Arin's recital is Thursday. They asked if both parents could come this year."
He didn't pause. Just unbuttoned his cuffs.
"Cancel it. I'll be in Singapore."
She didn't argue. Just nodded once, like she'd already known. Like disappointment had long ago stopped being a surprise.
He headed for the bathroom.
"If you need anything," he said over his shoulder, "talk to my assistant."
Her mouth tightened. She exhaled, quiet but sharp.
"Right. Like always."
He stopped, just for a second…but didn't turn around.
When the bathroom light finally went out, she was already in bed, turned toward the wall.
Eyes open.
Back to him.
And more distance between them than any bed could measure.
Present – The First Night Alone
The hotel suite was silent.
No footsteps upstairs. No voices through the walls. Just the hum of nothing.
Lianna sat cross-legged on the floor, an open box beside her. Photographs spilled out….her mother smiling, a younger Arin mid-laugh, a wedding picture she barely recognized. Him in a black tux. Her in borrowed white. She wasn't smiling.
At the bottom of the box was the engagement ring. The diamond still caught the lights in the room. Still pretending it meant something.
She held it for a moment.
Then set it down.
Her hands reached into her purse and pulled out a folded document. The marriage contract. The one her mother helped her write. Back when she believed in things like forever.
She lit the fireplace.
One page at a time, she fed the contract to the flames. The paper curled. The ink vanished.
When it was done, all that remained was ash.
And silence.
And the photo of Arin in her hands.
She hugged it to her chest.
Her voice cracked.
"I loved you," she whispered. "Even after you stopped touching me. Even after you stopped seeing me."
She pressed her forehead to her knees.
The tears came quietly.
Slow. Bitter.
"Two years," she breathed. "I stopped sleeping next to him… but I never stopped carrying it."
——
At the Vale estate, Kian stood on the master bedroom balcony, glass of whiskey in hand. The city lights flickered beyond the glass. The room behind him looked cleaner than usual.
Too clean.
Her side of the closet….empty.
The vanity….cleared.
The calendar….gone.
He took a slow sip, then smiled to himself. Arrogant. Dismissive.
"She'll come back," he said under his breath.
He looked at the bed they never shared. Thought about the first time he touched her. How her body had responded. How she used to look at him like he was the only man in the world.
She loved me.
And she still does.
Downstairs, Henry Vale snapped his phone shut.
"Announce the engagement Friday," he told someone. "Cassandra's ready."
He hung up.
So was the war.