Falling Back Into His Arms Again

Lena Carter stared at the stack of divorce papers resting on the table. Kieran Holt had already signed them, his name etched in ink as if sealing their fate.

Her gaze drifted toward the window, where golden sunlight poured in, casting long shadows across the room. There he stood, his tall frame illuminated by the warm glow of the afternoon. Yet, despite the golden light surrounding him, Kieran remained as cold and unyielding as a marble statue. His presence filled the room with an unbearable sense of detachment.

"I've signed them," he said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. "You should do the same. The sooner, the better. I want everything finalized before Juliette returns."

With his hands clasped behind his back, he spoke without sparing her even a glance. "The prenuptial agreement ensures there won't be any disputes over assets. However, as compensation, I'll transfer an additional twenty million dollars to your account, along with the villa in the western suburbs. It would be difficult to explain to my grandfather if you walked away with nothing."

Lena's fingers trembled as she clutched the edge of the table. His words barely registered, drowned out by the hammering of her heart.

"Does your grandfather even know you're divorcing me?" she asked, her voice quivering.

Kieran exhaled impatiently. "His opinion doesn't change my decision."

A deep shudder ran through her, forcing her to steady herself against the table. Tears blurred her vision, yet she refused to let them fall.

"Kieran..." She swallowed hard before continuing, her voice thick with emotion. "Can we not do this? Can we stay together?"

At last, Kieran turned to face her. His dark eyes, sharp and piercing, locked onto hers with a look of mild surprise.

"Why?" he asked, his tone laced with skepticism.

"Because I love you."

The words left her lips in a desperate whisper. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she pleaded, "Kieran, I love you. Even if you don't love me, I still want to be your wife."

A flicker of irritation crossed his face before he averted his gaze. "Enough, Lena. This marriage has been nothing but a burden." His tone was sharp, cutting through the fragile hope she had clung to.

With a dismissive wave of his hand, he continued, "You knew from the beginning that this was never real. I only married you to defy my grandfather. You were aware of my feelings for Juliette, and you knew why I couldn't be with her back then. Now that she's returning, I won't wait any longer. Our three-year contract is over. It's time for you to leave."

Lena lowered her head as silent tears slipped down her cheeks, splattering onto the table. She wiped them away quickly, but Kieran had already noticed. He saw the pain in her expression, but he chose to ignore it.

Just then, his phone rang. The second he glanced at the screen, his entire demeanor shifted. The coldness in his eyes melted into something softer-something Lena had never been able to evoke.

"Juliette," he answered, his voice suddenly warm and tender. "Are you at the airport?"

On the other end of the call, a cheerful voice responded, "Kieran! Yes, I just landed."

His brows lifted in surprise. "I thought you were arriving tonight?"

"I wanted to surprise you!"

A rare smile graced his lips. "Wait there. I'm coming to pick you up."

Without another word, Kieran grabbed his coat and strode toward the door. He didn't look back. Not once.

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Lena in suffocating silence. Her fingers traced the divorce papers absently, her mind a whirl of emotions.

She had given everything-her love, her time, her unwavering devotion-to Kieran. And yet, to him, their decade-long history and three years of marriage amounted to nothing more than an inconvenience. A mistake. A contractual obligation he was finally free from.

He had walked away without hesitation, eager to reunite with the woman he had always loved. And in that moment, Lena realized she had never truly belonged in his world.

She had only ever been a temporary placeholder for someone else.

Lena felt a deep ache in her chest, realizing that no matter what she did, she could never win over Kieran Holt's heart.

Taking a slow, shaky breath, she forced a bitter smile and wiped away the tears that had smudged his elegant signature on the divorce papers. The ink, once bold and decisive, now blurred under the weight of her sorrow.

That evening, Kieran returned to Tideview Manor with Juliette Mercer in his arms. As the second son of the wealthy and powerful Holt family, his presence alone was enough to command attention, but carrying a delicate woman in bridal style only intensified the spectacle.

"Kieran, we shouldn't be this close," Juliette murmured, pressing a gentle hand against his chest as she spoke. "You're still married. If Lena sees us like this, she might resent me."

His expression remained cold and unyielding. "It doesn't matter. She means nothing to me," he stated flatly. "She's just my wife in name only. She should know her place."

As the Whitmores gathered around to welcome Juliette with open arms, Lena remained in the dining room, quietly setting the table. She moved through the motions as if nothing was amiss, but Kieran caught sight of her figure from across the room.

He scoffed inwardly. 'Does she think serving my family will change my decision? How pathetic.'

Moments later, the butler rushed over, slightly out of breath. "Young Master Kieran! Young Madam just left!"

Kieran's expression darkened. "She left? When?"

"Just now, sir. She didn't take anything with her-no luggage, no belongings. She simply removed her apron and walked out through the back entrance. A black car picked her up."

Without hesitation, Kieran strode up the stairs to their bedroom. It was as pristine as ever, almost as if Lena had never lived there. On the bedside table, the signed divorce agreement sat in silent finality, stained with the remnants of her tears.

Frowning, he walked to the window just in time to see a sleek black Rolls-Royce disappearing into the night. Its taillights flickered briefly before vanishing completely.

A sharp irritation twisted in his chest. 'Wasn't she so unwilling to leave just this afternoon? And now she couldn't wait to run away?'

Feeling a surge of frustration, he pulled out his phone and dialed his secretary. "Find out who owns the car with license plate SA9999."

"Right away, sir."

Five minutes later, his secretary returned with an answer. "Mr. Holt, the car belongs to Dominic Vale, CEO of Sterling Corporation."