Chapter 4.

Chapter 4

Arya’s POV

“You’re brilliant, Arya. Engineering is who you are, you can't forget who you were before you met him.”

Janette's words played like a loop in my head as I stepped into the lobby of my old racing team.

Three years… I looked around, filled with nostalgia. The place looked the same, but there were a lot of differences, like the new polished floors and new paint colours. But the air still carried the faint scent of oil and metal, a smell that once felt like home.

I straightened my shoulders, trying to appear confident despite the fact that I was so nervous, I could throw up and my heart was pounding so fast that I was surprised they couldn't hear it.

I was about to approach the receptionist when a bald man who looked to be in his early thirties glanced up at me and frowned.

“Can I help you?” he asked, sounding like he sincerely wanted my answer to be a no.

“Yes,” I said calmly. “I’m here to see the hiring manager.”

He stared down at me condescendingly, sighing like he already concluded that I was going to be a waste of time.

“That would be me.”

I cleared my throat, determined not to let his attitude throw me off.

“Good day, sir. My name is Arya Sinclair. I used to work with the team here as a mechanical engineer and we won a few races under my leadership. I'd like to speak with you about returning to the team.”

“Returning here? And how long ago was that?” He asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“It’s been three years, but I’m back now and I promise I can even do better than I once did,” I replied.

He snorted, leaning back against a nearby table.

“Three years, she says.” He chuckled to himself before turning serious. “You probably haven't been keeping up with the racing world if you're coming here. Your former team was auctioned off and is now under new management. I mean, after being in the bottom two for a year straight and even going bankrupt, who'd want to stay in a sinking ship? And you waltz in here, telling me you can magically fix it all?”

“Give me one week, and I guarantee that the cars would be good enough to earn the team a top three spot in the next Grand Prix.” I said, clenching my fists in determination.

“Don't waste my time, girl.” He sneered at me. “Let’s see… you've spent the last three years playing housewife, and now your husband has done something to piss you off, so you think you can come back in here and pretend to be something you're not? Let me give you a piece of advice. Every marriage has it's problems, instead of trying to fix cars, why don't you try to fix your marriage? Men with decades of experience wouldn’t dare make promises like that, and you expect me to take a housewife seriously?”

My chest tightened, and I felt my eyes burning, but I refused to let the tears fall. He always saw me as a weak woman and crying would not help my cause.

“I’m not asking for a favour, in fact, I'll work for free. I won't take any salary, but if I can prove myself, then you have to employ me full time. Consider it a probationary period.”

He stared at me for a long moment, then shook his head. “We don’t need you. Now, if you excuse me….” He turned, clearly done with the conversation.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind us, and I turned to see a man walking in, dressed in an expensive looking navy suit.

“Is there a problem here?” he asked calmly.

My breath caught in my throat, my stomach dropping the moment I locked eyes with him.

It was him…the man from last night – a night I would never forget.

I saw shock filled his features and his eyes widened as he stared at me, and I knew he remembered me too.

My throat felt dry as shame washed all over me. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here,” I muttered, turning on my heel and rushing out of the office before anyone could say a word.

I hailed a cab, giving the driver my stepmother's address before closing my eyes in embarrassment.

Derek had given her the house last year as a birthday present and I didn't know how she would react after hearing that I was leaving him, but she was my only option right now.

I stood in front of the door, took in a deep breath, and then knocked, already bracing myself.

The door opened a few seconds later and she let me in with a strange smile on her face.

“I’m so sorry, I would’ve told you I was coming, but—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupted. “Your husband already explained everything.”

My husband? My heart almost stopped as I looked behind her and saw Derek sitting on the couch in the living room with Cassidy beside him and his hand wrapped around her waist.

“What are they doing here?” I snapped, unable to keep the anger from my voice.

“That's a funny question. This is my mother's house, Arya.” Cassidy laughed. “If that bothers you, maybe go visit yours—oh wait. She’s dead.”

“I should’ve known better than to come here.” I scoffed, trying to ignore her words.

I turned to leave, but Caroline grabbed my arm to stop me. “Arya, don’t be dramatic. Partners fight all the time, but that doesn't mean anything. You should go ahead and apologize to your husband and tell him you didn’t mean the divorce.”

I yanked my hand away, the tears I had been trying to control finally spilling over. “How can you say that? How can you ask me to beg a man who has been sleeping with my sister for years? They tricked me into adopting their child!”

“Stop being a child.” My stepmother snapped. “I was the one who suggested the adoption to help you out. What do you think would have happened to you if everyone found out you couldn't get pregnant and your sister can? Is this the thank you I get for helping you? You will go back to your husband and stop this behaviour.”

Something inside me snapped as I stared at all of them, my lips curling in disgust as I threw the divorce papers at Derek. “I’m done with all of you.”

Derek barely glanced at them before tossing it back at me.

“I’ve indulged you enough, Arya. I’m a busy man, but I made out the time to come take you home since you’ve chosen to act like a little child, so don't annoy me more than you already have. You're coming back home.”

“No,” I spat.

He eyed me furiously, then snapped his fingers. “Guards.”

Two large muscular men that had been standing at the corner of the living room moved toward me, grabbing my arms roughly and dragging me out of the room.

I fought hard against them, screaming and struggling, but it was useless.

As they dragged me out of the building, someone stopped in front of us, blocking the way out.

A gasp left my lips as I stared at him. How did he keep popping up all the time?

His eyes locked on mine, a dark look on his face.

“Let her go.” he said, voice low and commanding.