Bargained Hearts: When Mr. Coldhearted Turns Hopeless Romantic

Without adding another word, Darren abandoned the conversation and headed straight out the door. Left alone in the quiet villa, Millie tightened her grip on the divorce papers. The ache inside her had not disappeared, yet beneath that pain was a strange sense of release, as though a crushing weight had finally been removed from her chest. Somewhere beyond the walls, a car engine roared to life and gradually faded down the mountain road. Only then did something cross Millie's mind. Acting quickly, she took out her phone and dialed a number. Meanwhile, Brice Chapman, Darren's assistant, guided the car away from the villa complex and onto the winding road. At such a late hour, the mountain path lay nearly deserted. Gentle music drifted from the speakers, filling the silence inside the vehicle. In the back seat, Darren leaned against the cushion with his eyes shut, appearing to rest. Breaking the quiet, Brice spoke carefully. "Sir, Mr. Wall just called. He confirmed that Miss Murray arrived home safely." Without opening his eyes, Darren responded with a brief, "I see." Through the rearview mirror, Brice attempted to read his employer's mood. Although he could not make out his expression clearly, the atmosphere inside the car had turned noticeably colder ever since Darren left the villa. The confined space felt heavy, and even the air seemed difficult to breathe. For a while, Brice kept quiet and did not risk another word. The silence stretched on until the sudden sound of his phone ringing cut through the car. After glancing at the screen, he spoke carefully. "Sir, the call is from your wife." At once, Darren opened his eyes. He offered no reply, yet the shift in his expression was immediate. The ringing continued, filling the space with tension. Unable to gauge Darren's reaction, Brice finally answered the call. "Hello?" On the other end, Millie's voice was steady and composed. "Brice, please remind Darren that we still need to submit the divorce documents tomorrow. If he would rather avoid seeing me, he can sign an authorization form and allow the process to continue." The word divorce echoed in Brice's mind, and disbelief flickered across his face. Instinctively, he glanced toward the back seat again, only to feel the atmosphere inside the car grow even heavier. Still, Darren remained silent. With no other choice, Brice responded carefully, "Understood. I will inform him." ... Even though she understood that Darren would not return home that night, Millie chose to remain at the villa until morning. When the next day arrived, she intentionally waited until regular office hours had begun before heading back to gather her belongings. Inside the house that had once been arranged for their shared future, she instructed the staff to remove everything she had gradually placed there over the past three years. All the decorations and small details she had chosen with care were discarded without hesitation. In the end, she kept only a few sets of clothing and the most necessary items. Over time, most of her personal savings had already disappeared because she had used them to fill the financial gaps of Morgan Group. As for the gifts and valuables provided by the Evans family, she had no desire to keep any of them. When she arrived at the courthouse, only Brice was waiting. Darren did not appear. Clearing his throat, Brice said with practiced politeness, "Mrs. Evans, Mr. Evans has an extremely busy schedule today—" Whether he intended to protect Darren's image or simply avoid discomfort, his explanation did not get far. Before he could continue, Millie raised her hand and signaled for him to stop. She had no patience left for justifications. Without hesitation, she stepped up to the service window and passed every prepared document to the clerk, allowing the paperwork to move forward. The procedure moved quickly and required little effort. Within minutes, the filing was complete. They were instructed to return after a thirty-day waiting period to make it official. Once everything was settled, she collected her belongings and walked away. Later, after paying the taxi driver, she pulled her suitcase behind her and entered the small apartment she had rented for the time being. Although the space was modest, it was fully furnished and ready for use. After replacing the bedding with clean sheets, she lay down briefly to ease her fatigue. Soon after, she rose and began arranging her belongings bit by bit. One by one, she hung her clothes neatly in the closet. Then she placed her toiletries in the bathroom, set a stuffed toy carefully on the couch, and fixed a small wind chime near the window. Suddenly, the doorbell echoed through the quiet room. As she reached for the handle, Millie called out, "Who is it?" When the door opened, a tall young man wearing a coat stood outside. It was her brother. "Ruben." A heavy wave of guilt rose inside her, and it pressed so tightly against her chest that she could not even meet his eyes. Instead of showing blame or resentment, Ruben behaved as he always had. With an easy and familiar motion, he lifted his hand and gently messed up her hair. "You foolish girl. If things were this difficult, why did you not come back home?" At that, Millie's composure finally broke. Tears blurred her vision, and she could no longer force them back. She stepped closer and held onto him tightly. "Ruben… I am filing for divorce. It feels like I disappointed you." A quiet laugh escaped him, warm and sincere. "You have finally made the right choice," Ruben said without hesitation. "I could not be more relieved." Still clinging to him, Millie slowly lifted her head. "But what about Morgan Group?" In front of Darren, she had spoken with confidence, yet deep down she knew she was not free from worry. His expression turned steady and resolute. "I told you long ago," Ruben replied firmly. "Morgan Group is my burden to carry. It was never yours."