ログイン(Natasha)
The door clicks shut as Chase steps back into the office.
The air tightens, like something invisible has been pulled taut across my skin.
He doesn’t bother sitting. He just stands there near the desk, looking down at me.
His eyes are empty of anything that even remotely resembles warmth.
“You met Sonia,” he says, “she wanted to get married, we will have the divorce after you give birth.”
Just like that.
No preamble. No attempt to soften the edges. He delivers the death sentence of our marriage with the exact same tone he uses when dissolving an underperforming asset.
I shrug.
The motion comes easily, which is ironic considering the chaos that had been tearing through my bloodstream barely an hour ago.
“Why wait?” I say. “I’m ready to do it now.”
For a moment, the room goes still.
It’s only a fraction of a second, but I catch it—the faint tightening of his jaw, the subtle narrowing of his eyes.
He isn’t used to this. He’s used to cruelty being met with silence, resistance, or pain. Not… agreement. And certainly not enthusiasm.
“No,” he says finally. His voice drops, settling into that familiar register of authority.
“After the birth.”
If keeping the ring on my swollen finger for a few more months helps some carefully calculated PR strategy of his, then fine. Let him have it.
A delay won’t magically resurrect our marriage. In my heart, it’s already been dead for quite some time.
“Fine,” I reply. “Have it your way. I don’t care.”
Leaving Warren Global feels like finally escaping a room with no oxygen.
The drive back to the estate is a necessary evil.
Earlier, I didn’t want to wrestle with luggage in front of Eleanor, so I left my things behind. Now I just need to collect them and find a hotel where I can disappear for a few days.
Simple. At least, that was the plan.
When I limp through the cavernous foyer, the house is quiet. But it isn’t the peaceful kind of quiet. It feels… expectant. Like the walls are waiting to see what I’ll do next.
I push open the door to the master suite. And immediately stop breathing.
The room is immaculate. My packed luggage is gone.
For a second, I just stand there, trying to process what I’m looking at.
Then I notice movement in the hallway. The housekeeper is lingering by the doorframe.
She’s trying to look neutral, but there’s a small, ugly smile twisting her thin lips. Her eyes gleam with the unmistakable satisfaction of someone who believes they’ve just witnessed a small but meaningful victory.
“Madam said to put everything back,” she explains. Her tone drips with artificial innocence.
Eleanor. Of course. She must think I’m trying to run off with things bought using Warren money.
The irony would be funny if it weren’t so pathetic.
Eleanor has never worked a single day in her life. She has absolutely no concept of what I brought into this marriage—or how much I personally contributed to the empire bearing her son’s name.
And she certainly has no idea how badly I want nothing to do with her entire revolting family anymore.
The housekeeper is still watching me. Practically vibrating with anticipation for a scene. Waiting for me to start dragging suitcases out of closets, sweating and crying while fighting a pointless war of attrition.
The thought is so absurd a laugh escapes before I can stop it.
It startles her instantly. Her smug smile falters.
“Oh,” I say sweetly, tilting my head. Then I give her the most cheerful, completely unhinged smile I can manage.
“Maybe she thinks Chase would like to wear it.”
Her confusion is immediate. I don’t wait for it to turn into comprehension.
Instead, I pivot on my good heel and walk straight out of the room.
Let them guard the closet like it’s the crown jewels. I’ll buy a new wardrobe.
I leave that house with nothing but my purse.
***
The next few days dissolve into a blur of work. The conference room at Mason’s firm becomes my second home.
Spreadsheets cover the table. Valuation models stack up in messy piles. Pitch decks glow across three different screens.
Mason stands by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
Dark ink curls across his forearms—sharp lines of tattoos that look almost surgical against his skin.
For a moment, I just watched his back. And an unexpected wave of gratitude hits me so hard it almost steals my breath.
When my mother vanished in the middle of the night, taking my older brother with her and leaving a crater behind, the world froze over. The only way to survive it was to become ice myself.
Later, when that illness nearly hollowed me out completely, I turned into a glacier just to endure the aftermath.
But Mason… Mason was the one who threw the rope.
He hauled me out of that frozen darkness piece by broken piece. His love for me has always been there. Unspoken, steady and persistent. It hums quietly beneath every conversation, every shared silence, every late-night strategy session.
To me, Mason has always felt like something else.
Not a lover. Sanctuary. Family.
Back then, my stupid, desperately blind eyes were fixed entirely on Chase. A man who never saw me as anything more than a convenient stepping stone.
I wish I could love Mason the way he deserves. He would make an incredible partner.
“Confirmed,” Mason says suddenly, turning toward me as he ends a call. The look in his eyes is electric. Predatory.
“Jeffrey Bauer is attending the Blackwood Gala tonight.”
Adrenaline shoots through my veins instantly. Jeffrey Bauer is the white whale of this entire acquisition. If we secure his backing, the entire project swings in our favor.
“Chase will be there too,” I point out, tracing the edge of a term sheet with my fingernail. “Hunting the same capital.”
“I know,” Mason says with a grin. “But we have a secret weapon.” He points at me. “You.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t know if you’ve heard,” Mason continues casually, “but Chase just partnered with Nathaniel Morton for the project.”
The pieces slide together. Of course they did. Nathaniel Morton is Sonia’s brother.
My phone suddenly vibrates against the glass table. The screen lights up.
Chase.
I pick it up and answer. “Yes?”
“Since we’ve reached an understanding regarding our marriage,” Chase says, his voice perfectly crisp and detached, “I won’t question your absence from the house. For now.”
How generous of him. Granting me permission to exist outside his property.
“However,” he continues, and the command creeps back into his voice.
“Until the paperwork is finalized, you are still my wife. Certain events require your presence. There is a gala tonight, and I expect you to attend.”
The irony is so sharp I can practically taste metal. He needs the dutiful, pregnant wife on his arm to project stability.
To the very investors Mason and I are about to steal.
“Of course,” I reply smoothly. “I’ll meet you there at seven. Send me the address.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. Apparently my cooperation is unsettling.
“Good,” he says. Then he hangs up without saying goodbye.
I toss the phone back onto the table. A jagged, delicious thrill begins to spread through my chest.
Oh, I’ll absolutely be at that gala tonight.
Just not as his wife.
And definitely not standing beside him.
(Natasha)"The chairs stay empty," Eleanor says, in the voice she uses on caterers and governments."Both of them. We wait.""They said noon," Chase says."Then they'll be here at noon. Photographer, you're being paid by the hour, look happier about it."The photographer, who has been rearranging us on the Warren Estate staircase for forty minutes, looks at the empty chairs and wisely says nothing.The gallery wall goes up the stairs beside us.Generations of Warrens in oil, sitting very still, not one of them smiling.Nobody in this portrait can manage either.Elias has claimed the center chair on the grounds of seniority and his cane."In my day," he announces, "A family portrait was four people and a dog.""You hated the dog," Eleanor says."The dog hated me. There's a difference. It still made the painting.""Where's the dog now?" Elijah asks."In the painting. Immortality was wasted on it."Elijah's on the step behind him, tugging at a collar Hannah has already fixed twice.Mason
(Chase)"You said one dance," I remind her, against her hair."I'm renegotiating.""You can't renegotiate mid-dance.""Watch me. Lily's asleep on your mother, and if I wake her to say goodbye she'll scream, and then I'll cry, and this makeup was applied by professionals.""So we just leave our daughter?""With her grandmother, who's always angling for more time with her. Don't look at me like that, it's one night."My mother is predictably delighted about keeping Lily for the night, and scandalized that we want to sneak off.She tells me to drive carefully, twice.We make it up the beach at a pace just under suspicious.Julian spots us and turns the music up to distract the others from our exit, because he misses nothing and tells no one.Then we’re in the car, speeding along the dark road, and my wife is sitting with her shoes off and her feet on the dash, eating cake off a napkin she stole on the way out."Is that my slice?" I ask."It's community property now. Keep up."My wife.I
(Natasha)I go down the cove before anyone can miss me.The dress isn't built for rocks, so I take it slow, holding my shoes in one hand.The spot's easy to find.The long flat piece of driftwood is still there, wedged up where the tide doesn't reach.I stand there a while with my feet in the cold sand.He's not here. He washed away a long time ago and I know that.I talk to him anyway."I'm getting married in an hour," I say. "Up at the house. Everyone I love is on that beach."The water comes in.Goes out."I'm happy, Dad. I wanted you to hear it from me."That's all of it.Sand crunches behind me, and Elijah picks his way down the rocks in a suit, tie already loose."Grandma Eleanor sent me. She says the light's going and the photographer's getting emotional about it.""We don't have a photographer.""She means Julian. Also Lily ate sand. Twice. The second time she looked right at me while she did it.""Noted.""You okay?" he asks, in the tone of somebody who was told to check."I'
(Julian)"I'm giving a toast," I tell Gloria."Nobody asked you to give a toast.""Which is exactly the kind you want. The requested ones sound like hostage videos.""Is this the poem conversation again? Because the poem was vetoed.""The poem was your idea, and I vetoed it myself, on Natasha's behalf. This is a toast. Different genre entirely."There's a pause where I can hear her deciding whether this is a fight worth having."There's no line for a toast on the schedule," she says."There's no line for me on the schedule at all. I checked. I'm correcting an oversight.""Fine. You go after the food, before the dancing. How long do you need?""As long as it takes.""Two minutes.""We'll see.""Julian.""Gloria."She hangs up.So that's settled. I owe the happy couple a toast.I sit down at the kitchen table with a pad and a pen and write Natasha and Chase at the top and underline it twice.Then nothing happens for a while.Everything I try comes out wrong.To the bride and groom gets
(Clarice)"Gloria says you've gone quiet in the group chat.""Gloria reports on me now.""Gloria reports on everyone. It's her way of loving us."Natasha comes in, drops her keys in the bowl by the door like she's been doing it for years, which she hasn't, which is why I like watching her do it."She thinks you're plotting something.""I was thinking. There's a difference.""Not in this family."I put the kettle on.She sits at my kitchen table and takes the good chair without being told which one it is anymore, and picks up the salt cellar, and puts it down."How's Lily?""Currently against sleeves. It's a whole position. She has arguments."She turns the salt cellar again."You'll have heard about the hotel.""I have.""And the glasshouse, and the two after the glasshouse.""I’m co-chair of the wedding committee, I heard about all of it."I bring the cups over."Gloria wanted a war council. I didn't have anything to say in a war council.""No," Natasha says slowly. "You went quiet i
(Natasha)"We’ve been approved," Gloria says, instead of hello."The letter came this morning. We're officially on the list.""Gloria. That's enormous. Congratulations!""It only means we’ll be considered, not that anything will happen anytime soon. Could be a month. Could be two years. The woman on the phone said, and I quote, try to live your life."A pause."I've put the letter in a drawer so I stop reading it. Anyway. That's not why I called. Sit down.""People keep telling me to sit down. What now?""The hotel fell through.""Which hotel?""The last one. The ballroom with the ceiling. The one the committee spent two weeks calling a cathedral because Eleanor said the word once and it stuck."I switch the phone to the other ear."Fell through how?""Renovations," Gloria says, in the voice of a woman reading a word she doesn't believe."Sudden, urgent renovations. To a ballroom that got redone eighteen months ago. Deposit's back already. They're very sorry. They sounded sorry the wa
(Gloria)I have attended enough industry parties to know that the real entertainment is never the canapés.It's the people in the room.Specifically, tonight, it's the corner near the bar where Nathanial is standing with a glass of scotch.Wearing the expression of a man who’s recently had his enti
(Natasha)My mother makes tea at six in the morning because she doesn’t know what else to do.I sit at the kitchen island and watch her move through the townhouse, calm and efficient in a way that only makes her worry more obvious.She raised me to be stronger than this, and now she’s pretending no
(Nathanial)My mother has put flowers on every surface.It's a good instinct.Flowers fill space, give the eye somewhere to land, make a house feel inhabited rather than merely occupied.She’s thought carefully about this afternoon and it shows.What she hasn't thought about, or perhaps has thought
(Chase)The invitation arrives on a Wednesday, addressed to the entire household in handwriting I don't recognize.Sonia picks it up from the hall table before I do and I watch the color leave her face in real time."What is it?"She turns it over in her hands."My mother bought a house.""That's g







