Lies, Love, And Letting Go

"Divorce?" Vincent let out a cold, cutting laugh as he lingered at the foot of the bed, looming over Caroline like a dark shadow. "You clawed your way into the Cooper family with every trick you had, and now you're asking for a divorce?"

"Believe what you want, but I'm dead serious." Caroline's tone stayed cool, all emotion spent and nothing left to argue with.

She lifted her eyes to him, taking in the perfectly tailored suit and immaculate tie that once drew her in. Now, every polished detail only made him look like a stranger. It all suddenly felt too hollow to be worth the heartache.

With composed indifference, Vincent adjusted his tie, his fingers moving in smooth, practiced motions. "Do you honestly think I care?"

He didn't give her a chance to answer. Turning on his heel, he strode for the door, not sparing her a backward glance, as though staying a second longer might stain him.

Caroline's expression hardened into ice as she watched his back recede. "Vincent, even if you couldn't care less, I'm walking away from this marriage."

He walked out without a word, his silence cutting deeper than anything he could have said.

Outside, a thick ceiling of clouds loomed overhead, the air heavy with the promise of rain.

Jerald Carter, Vincent's assistant, stood beside the sleek black car, posture straight despite the damp chill. The moment Vincent emerged, Jerald moved forward without hesitation, opening the car door in a smooth, practiced motion.

"Mr. Cooper, this just arrived today," Jerald announced, extending a small velvet box in the shade of midnight blue.

Vincent arched a brow, making no move to accept it.

Catching the cue, Jerald flipped the lid open. Nestled on the soft lining lay a porcelain leaf, flawlessly crafted—its delicate veins etched with meticulous precision, fragile enough to shatter at a breath.

"It came from the same place as before. Same sender. Same timing," Jerald said quietly. "Every year, right around now, it shows up."

Only then did Vincent lower his gaze, taking the box with a measured hand. His thumb brushed the porcelain's cool edge, and for a fleeting heartbeat, something unguarded flickered in his eyes. He'd been well aware that Caroline's birthday was just around the corner. For three years straight, this porcelain leaf had appeared right on cue, like clockwork. It could only be a birthday gift from the man she'd once loved.

Vincent had never questioned Caroline about it. He knew she would act clueless.

Jerald shifted uneasily before adding in a low voice, "And… that person's coming back to the country."

Vincent froze mid-movement, a shadow sweeping across his features. "You're certain?"

"Yes."

A cold, humorless laugh slipped from Vincent's throat. That explained Caroline's sudden, unshakable decision to end their marriage. She was ready to bolt straight into that man's arms. Her old flame was back, and she couldn't even be bothered to hide it.

Vincent's icy chuckle held no warmth as he issued the order, his voice slicing through the air like a blade. "Keep a close eye on her."

"Got it."

The car rolled out of the villa district just as the skies split open, sheets of rain hammering the windshield in a relentless downpour.

...

By morning, the storm had eased into a steady drizzle, but the early winter air still bit sharply at the skin.

Caroline gripped the steering wheel and guided her car toward Ezrocsa Broadcasting Station.

She wasn't just another face on screen—she was the network's anchor, a seasoned journalist with degrees in both journalism and finance, six hard-won years cementing her place as the station's backbone.

In the past few years, her days had blurred into frenzied coverage of breaking stories, nights dissolved into an exhausting juggle of family obligations. Every hour had been claimed by something, leaving little space for herself. Without this constant hustle, she might've had a longer life ahead of her.

Caroline let out a faint, bitter laugh, fishing the small blister pack from her purse and popping a pill past her lips. She'd swung by a pharmacy earlier. Since Vincent hadn't bothered with protection the night before, she couldn't afford to take risks.

For three long years, she'd ached to have a child with Vincent, but fate had never allowed it. Maybe that was the universe's way of telling her they were never meant to be. Now that she was determined to end the marriage, she needed to cut off every last thread tying her to him.

With no water on hand, Caroline forced the pill down dry. It caught halfway, scraping a raw path down her throat, leaving behind a burn that spread like fire to her stomach. Her face tightened at the sharp, throbbing sting.

She braced an elbow against the driver's seat, drew in several steadying breaths, and then slipped on her high heels with deliberate precision. The moment she stepped out of the car, the biting chill sliced against her skin.

She'd barely made it to the lobby when Jase Walsh, the deputy director of Ezrocsa Broadcasting Station, came hurrying toward her. He didn't bother with pleasantries, seizing her lightly by the arm and steering her straight into his office. "Caroline, what happened?" he demanded, worry creasing his brow.

Her expression tightened, a faint frown forming. "What's going on?"

"Keystone Group's ad contract was practically wrapped up," Jase blurted, voice tinged with agitation. "Then out of nowhere, they say they need to 'reconsider.' Come on—doesn't that scream they're pulling out?" He leaned forward, his voice rising. "You were the one managing this deal. Where the hell did it go sideways?"

The blood drained from Caroline's face, and she fell silent.

Her silence only made Jase more frantic. "Don't tell me you pissed off someone in their upper ranks. Our entire quarterly revenue hinges on that contract, and now they're hiding behind some 'internal review' excuse? No one's buying that."

Caroline's lips pressed into a thin line, her expression blank. She didn't need anyone to spell it out. Vincent's hand must be all over this mess. As the CEO of the Keystone Group, he could easily pull that off with just one word. She just hadn't expected him to mix personal grudges with business.

Jase slapped a hand on his desk, frustration crackling in the air. "For God's sake, say something! The year is almost over. If this tanks, we're all screwed."

Caroline drew in a steadying breath, the tension in her jaw betraying the storm beneath. "I'll take care of it," she bit out.