Chapter 4: Whispers of the Past

Natalie awoke to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows of her penthouse. It took a moment for reality to sink in—that she was no longer waking up in the cold, cavernous Sinclair mansion. No longer bound by a loveless marriage. No longer waiting for a man who would never truly see her.

Stretching beneath the silky sheets, she let out a slow breath. Today was the first full day of her new life.

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Slipping into a satin robe, she made her way through the spacious apartment and peered through the peephole.

Ava.

With a grin, she opened the door to find her best friend holding two oversized coffee cups and a bag of croissants. “Morning, divorcee,” Ava chirped, stepping inside with a dramatic flair. “I figured you’d need caffeine and carbs. Big changes require fuel.”

Natalie chuckled as she closed the door behind her. “You know me too well.”

As they settled onto the plush couch, Ava handed her a cup. “So… how does it feel?”

Natalie exhaled, staring into her coffee as if the answer would swirl to the surface. “Strange. Liberating. A little terrifying.”

Ava nodded knowingly. “Makes sense. You spent years being ‘Mrs. Sinclair.’ Now you’re just you. That’s bound to feel weird.”

Natalie took a sip of her coffee, the rich bitterness grounding her. “It is weird. But it’s also… exhilarating.”

Ava grinned. “That’s what I like to hear.”

For a few moments, they sat in comfortable silence, the only sound being the distant hum of the city below. Then, Ava’s expression shifted, her playfulness dimming slightly.

“I hate to bring up the devil, but…” She hesitated. “Has Adrian tried to contact you?”

Natalie’s fingers tightened around the coffee cup. “He called last night.”

“And?”

“I didn’t answer.”

Ava whooped, nearly spilling her drink. “That’s my girl!”

Natalie laughed at her friend’s enthusiasm, but the truth was, she wasn’t as unaffected as she wanted to be. Adrian’s call had stirred something deep inside her—a sense of unfinished business, of an inevitable confrontation she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

Ava seemed to sense her turmoil. “Look, I know it’s not that simple. But you don’t owe him anything, Nat. Not your time, not your attention. He made his bed. Let him lie in it.”

Natalie nodded, forcing herself to push away the lingering thoughts of her ex-husband. “You’re right. I have more important things to focus on.”

Ava smirked. “Like getting back into the dating pool?”

Natalie groaned. “Can I breathe first?”

“Sure, sure,” Ava said with a teasing glint in her eye. “But don’t be surprised when the suitors start lining up. Trust me, men love a woman with a little mystery and a whole lot of independence.”

Natalie rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. A part of her did wonder what came next. Love? A second chance at happiness? For now, she would take things one step at a time.

As they finished their coffee, Natalie’s phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at the screen and froze.

Unknown Number.

Ava leaned over. “Do you think it’s him?”

Natalie hesitated before answering, her voice steady. “There’s only one way to find out.”

With a deep breath, she picked up the phone and pressed answer.

“Hello?”

A pause. Then, a deep, unfamiliar voice. “Miss Evans, this is Alexander Carter. I believe we need to meet.”

Natalie’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, who?”

“The lawyer handling the Sinclair estate.”

Her heart clenched. Of course, Adrian wouldn’t let go that easily.

Ava watched her closely, concern flickering in her eyes. Natalie inhaled deeply before responding. “Fine. Let’s meet.”

As she ended the call, a sense of foreboding settled over her.

Adrian wasn’t done with her yet.

But she wasn’t the same woman he had once controlled.

And this time, she would be ready.

---

Later that day, Natalie found herself in an upscale law firm, the pristine glass walls reflecting her own composed but wary expression. The receptionist had led her to a private meeting room, where she now sat, waiting.

The door creaked open, and a tall, well-dressed man stepped inside. Alexander Carter was younger than she expected, perhaps in his early forties, with sharp blue eyes and an air of quiet authority.

“Miss Evans,” he greeted, offering his hand. “Thank you for coming.”

She shook it, her grip firm. “I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

His lips curved into a small smile. “That depends on how you look at it. But I assure you, I’m only here to relay information.”

She crossed her arms. “Then relay it.”

He pulled a folder from his briefcase and slid it across the table. “Mr. Sinclair wishes to discuss the terms of your divorce settlement.”

Natalie arched a brow. “The terms are clear. We signed a prenup. He keeps his wealth, I keep my freedom.”

Carter hesitated before replying, “That’s… not entirely why he asked me to contact you.”

A chill ran down her spine. “Then why?”

He met her gaze evenly. “Mr. Sinclair believes there are unresolved matters between you two—matters he insists need to be addressed.”

Natalie scoffed. “Unresolved? The only unresolved thing between us is his ego refusing to accept that I walked away.”

Carter remained silent for a moment, then sighed. “Look, Miss Evans. I’m not here to take sides. But I can tell you this—Adrian Sinclair isn’t used to losing. And he certainly isn’t used to losing you.”

Her jaw clenched. “Well, he better get used to it.”

Carter slid another paper forward. “Just… read this before you decide anything. If you still want nothing to do with him, I’ll deliver your response.”

She hesitated before picking it up. As her eyes skimmed the words, her heartbeat quickened.

Ava’s voice echoed in her mind from earlier that morning. *You don’t owe him anything.*

She clenched her fists. No, she didn’t.

Looking up, she met Carter’s gaze and exhaled. “Tell Adrian my answer is still no.”

Carter nodded, but the flicker of intrigue in his eyes told her this wouldn’t be the last time they spoke.

As she walked out of the firm’s doors and into the bustling city streets, she knew one thing for certain:

Adrian Sinclair wasn’t done fighting for her.

But neither was she.