Natalie’s POV
I was already halfway down the hall when I heard his footsteps rushing after me.
“Natalie, wait!”
I didn’t stop, but I slowed just enough.
He caught up beside me, still a little breathless. “Look,” he said. “I know Carmilla crossed a line. She’s scared, okay? She thinks everyone’s out to get something from me. Her mind’s a mess right now. Just… let it go this once.”
I turned to face him, calm but sharp.
“No,” I said. “That’s not something I can just let go.”
His face tensed. I didn’t give him a chance to interrupt.
“I don’t want to work with someone who didn’t just sit there and let another woman insult me—a lawyer trying to help—” I raised both hands in a mock peace sign and curled my fingers like a sarcastic little wave, “but also treated his own marriage like it was some throwaway deal. Like it meant nothing.”
I let out a small breath. “And yes, I’m speaking from experience. I recently went through a divorce too. So yeah, I know how messy it gets but it’s not fair to only listen to one side of the story and run with it.”
That hit him. His expression shifted. For once, he didn’t look defensive. He just looked like the weight of it was finally sinking in.
He hesitated, then said, softer, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to talk badly about her, I just… I thought she was being greedy. Asking for my grandfather’s inheritance after everything. It felt wrong.”
I folded my arms across my chest, jaw tight. “You thought. That’s the problem. You never even met her, and yet you built this whole story in your head. You decided who she was, what she wanted, and why she stayed without ever hearing her speak.”
He had no response. Just stood there, silent.
So I didn’t sugarcoat it and straightly said, “I know getting Carmilla out is the priority and you didn’t make it clear earlier” I paused. “So here’s what I suggest: talk to your ex-wife. Face her before you throw out another careless assumption.”
I didn’t blink as I added, “Maybe if she understands your side, she’ll help you. Maybe then she’ll give you the legal documents you need.”
I leaned in a little, quieter but firmer now. “And maybe then... I won’t feel like I’m just fixing another mess made by someone who doesn’t respect women.”
He just stood there. No reply. Nothing.
Just a slow nod. “Okay.”
Then, even softer, “I really am sorry. For everything we said. About my ex-wife. About you.”
His voice wasn’t sharp anymore. No charm, no excuses. Just guilt, plain and honest.
“I judged her without knowing her,” he added. “And I let someone else speak for me in the worst way. I wasn’t trying to be cruel, but… I was. And that’s on me.”
I didn’t answer right away. I let the silence stretch out between us. Let it hurt a little.
Then, after a moment, I gave a small nod. “Alright.”
I didn’t forgive him. Not that easily.
But I could work with him… to get to know him more.
I couldn’t just let this chance slip away, not when I finally had the chance to see what kind of man he really was.
What kind of man I actually married.
We went back into the room.
Carmilla was still in the same seat, legs crossed like she hadn’t just set the whole place on fire five minutes ago. She looked at me for a second, but I didn’t let her speak.
I walked to the table, dropped the file, flipped to a clean page, and sat down across from her.
“Let’s talk about the case,” I said.
She straightened up a little. “Okay.”
Brandon sat beside her, a bit stiffer now. Like he was finally shifting into business mode.
“We signed a deal to export military-grade AI chips,” Carmilla said, placing her hands on the table. “It’s a five-year contract. Worth about five billion.”
I raised a brow. “And the problem?”
“Two weeks before our first shipment, the regulators froze all international payments tied to one of our branches. They say it’s about fake invoices, maybe money laundering. But I didn’t touch any of it. Someone used my name.”
“And you’re listed as the main account holder,” I said, checking the file.
She nodded. “I’m being framed.”
Of course she was. Classic setup—pick a woman high up the chain, and make her the fall girl when things go south.
“You’re the scapegoat,” I said. “Seen this before. You’re visible, so you’re the easiest to blame.”
Brandon turned to me. “Can you handle it?”
“I can get her out on bail in 48 hours,” I said. “And I can make this case disappear in three months.”
Carmilla blinked. “You make it sound easy.”
“It’s not,” I said. “But I’m good at what I do.”
She looked like she wanted to argue, but Brandon gave her a look, and she stayed quiet.
I shut the folder and stood up.
“One more thing,” I said, eyes on her. “I’m not interested in Brandon. If that’s what’s been bothering you, relax.”
She blinked. “I never said-”
“You didn’t have to,” I said, smiling just a bit.
Brandon shifted beside her like he suddenly forgot how to sit comfortably.
“I just find it strange...” she took a deep sigh and whispered, “The way he acts around you. He’s never like this with anyone else.”
I looked at him. He quickly looked away, I didn’t say anything else.
“Anyway,” I said brushing off my sleeve, “if you want me to help, follow my lead. No drama. No games. Just do what I say.”
Carmilla nodded, this time without talking back. “Understood.”
Meeting over.
Brandon walked me to the door.
“Thanks again,” he said. “For not walking out.”
I looked at him. “Don’t thank me yet. This is just the beginning.”
We stepped outside. We didn’t talk much.
The air between us felt heavier. Not tense, just… different.
When we reached the car, Brandon opened the door for me like it was habit.
“I really appreciate this,” he said. “Honestly.”
I nodded. “Let’s see if you still say that when the paperwork starts piling up.”
He gave a small smile but didn’t answer.
Once we were driving, he looked over. “Are you sure that you don’t handle divorce cases? Or know someone who does?”
I didn’t even blink. “Dylan.”
He frowned. “Dylan?”
“Senior partner. Quiet, sharp, no nonsense. You’ll like him.”
He nodded. “Can I get his contact?”
“Sure.”
I pulled a card from my planner and handed it to him. He slid it into his pocket.
“Thanks,” he said. “I should’ve done this a long time ago.
I didn’t answer.
Then he leaned forward. “Elena,” he said to his secretary, “can you pull up my ex-wife’s number?”
I froze.
She nodded, already reaching for her phone.
My heart kicked in my chest.
He was actually going to call. Right now. While I was sitting next to him!
I reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Wait!”
But it was too late.
As his call went through, my cell phone began to ring in my handbag.
I watched him closely, not daring to plunge my hand into my handbag to silence my phone.
There was a long, tense pause. The call wasn’t answered, so he hung up.
As soon as he did, my phone fell silent.
Brandon’s gaze fixed on my handbag, his eyes filled with suspicion.
Natalie’s POV“But one thing doesn’t make sense…” Brandon said, lowering his fork and looking at me. “Dylan confirmed she’s currently not in the U.S.”My breath hitched. Just for a second.That meant Dylan had covered for me. I let out a silent sigh of relief and gave a small nod like I didn’t just escape a heart attack.“If that weren’t the case,” Brandon continued, “I’d really think you were my ex-wife.”He grinned and even winked.I didn’t laugh.I just stared at him and forced my lips into a polite, flat line.He raised both hands in mock surrender. “Alright, maybe that joke really wasn’t that funny.”“It’s definitely not,” I said, picking at the edge of my napkin.God, I almost admitted it. One wrong word and it would’ve all come crashing down.I hadn’t meant to lie to him not at first. But the way he spoke about his ex-wife to me… like she was some greedy, nameless ghost in his past.And the way he spoke to me now… warm, respectful, even a little impressed. That gap between how
Natalie’s POV I couldn’t speak. No words came out.Dylan’s confession was still hanging in the air between us, and all I could do was stare at him… wide-eyed, heart pounding, lips parted like maybe something would come out. But nothing did.Then, as if fate knew I needed saving, my phone rang.I jumped.He looked down at his lap and sighed. Just one look at the screen was enough for him to know.“Brandon,” he said quietly, then gave me the smallest nod. “Go ahead.”His voice was calm, but his eyes… God, they weren’t. I saw it all—disappointment, frustration, and that faint trace of hope disappearing like smoke.I stood up slowly, still holding the phone to my ear.“Hey,” Brandon said on the other end, like nothing was burning. “I’m near your firm. Want to grab a bite and talk through a few case points?”“Sure,” I said too quickly. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”I grabbed my bag without looking back. I couldn’t. Because if I did… I’d probably stay.Dylan stayed seated, hands resting on h
Natalie's POVI walked out of Brandon’s office, but my mind stayed behind.His questions. His tone. The way he kept trying to explain things like they’d make sense if I just gave him a second chance.It didn’t sit right.Especially the part where he said there was nothing going on between him and Carmilla. Please.He might’ve convinced himself of that, but I wasn’t born yesterday. The way she acts around him? The way his mother talks?There’s history there... maybe messy, maybe not, but I wasn’t about to be the idiot in the room pretending not to see it.And his mother?That one stung more than I wanted to admit.It’s not like I needed their approval. I didn’t even want it. But hearing how little they thought of Brandon’s ex-wife—of me—made something tighten in my chest.Like all those years I spent taking care of his grandfather, running back and forth between hospitals and boardrooms, meant nothing.They really saw me as just some invisible housewife they could brush off and forget.
Brandon’s POVSomething Mom said stuck with me.Actually, it was a mix of things... her comments earlier, Arthur’s little jabs from the other day, and that look on Natalie’s face when they mentioned my ex-wife like she was just some extra.It kept replaying in my head. The way she tensed. That flash in her eyes.I leaned back in my chair and looked at Elena, who’d just come in with my schedule.“You remember the background check I asked you to run on Ms. N?” I asked.She nodded. “Yes, sir. Everything came back normal. Except for a three-year gap. No work records, no paper trail. She just… vanished during that time.”I rubbed the back of my neck. That missing gap—it wasn’t just coincidence. I was starting to feel like there was something I wasn’t supposed to see.“Okay. Change of plans. Look into someone else.”Elena blinked. “Who?”“Natalie York,” I said, keeping my voice even. “My ex-wife.”She straightened slightly. “Are you looking for her?”I nodded. “Yeah. I want to know what hap
Natalie’s POVCarmilla didn’t waste a second. She rushed toward them like she’d just spotted her favorite celebrities. Then clung to his mother’s arm like it was part of a routine.“She bullied me,” she whined, pointing straight at me like I’d yanked her hair and shoved her down the stairs. “In front of my whole team! I was just doing my job!”I didn’t flinch.Brandon’s mother turned her eyes on me, calm but sharp. Her brows slightly pulled together, it took me a second… But then it hit.That face.Polite confusion with a splash of quiet judgment. The exact same expression she wore the first time I met her.Oh God.Mrs. York.I froze.She’d been in Europe all these years, managing their overseas branches. We’d only met a few times, but even back then, she didn’t like me much.I wasn’t what she imagined as “wife material” for her precious Brandon.And now? I had no idea if she remembered me.I kind of hoped she didn’t.Brandon looked between us. His brows furrowed. “What happened?”“Sh
Natalie’s POVThe ride home after the banquet was quiet. Too quiet.Dylan was driving. Emma sat in the back beside me, pretending to sleep but I knew better. Her fake breathing rhythm was way too dramatic.She’d been dying to ask the second we stepped into the car. And of course, it didn’t take long.“So…” she started, drawing the word out like a fishing line. “Brandon York. That man knows how to put on a show, huh?”I glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “What about him?”“Oh, nothing,” she said way too casually. “Just wondering if he’s always that clingy when offering people a job. Or was that whole dance-slash-eyes-only-for-you thing a limited-edition performance?”Dylan gripped the wheel a little tighter.I leaned back and stared out the window. “It was just business. He asked me to work with him.”“Work with him,” Emma repeated, clearly not buying it. “He asked you to work with him in front of hundreds of people like it was a wedding proposal.”I looked at the rearview mir