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Chapter Fourteen
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2025-07-11 04:04:43
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Signed Sealed and Divorced. The CEO’s biggest regret Chapter Twenty Two
I wake up on the couch with a stiff neck and a blanket I don’t remember pulling over myself. The last thing I remember is Sophia’s hand on my back while I tried not to drown in my own tears. She must have moved me, covered me up like she used to when we were kids. I press my palm into my eyes for a second before I push myself up.I find her in the kitchen, humming under her breath while she flips eggs in a pan. The smell of toast and coffee wraps around me like a safer blanket than the one I left on the couch. Leo sits at the counter, swinging his feet, stuffing bits of scrambled egg into his mouth with sticky fingers. Alina’s next to him, dramatic as ever, demanding extra syrup for her waffles like it’s a negotiation.I stand there in the doorway for a moment longer than I mean to, just watching them. Sophia tilts her head, crossing her eyes and puffing out her cheeks until Leo giggles so hard he almost chokes. Alina claps like she’s got her own private circus. For a second, I let my
Signed Sealed and Divorced. The CEO’s biggest regret Chapter Twenty one
I had gone to the kids room after the call with Sophia. Her voice is gone, replaced by the steady hush of the air conditioner and the soft, rhythmic breaths of my children tangled up in blankets at the foot of my bed.I lie there for a moment, watching Alina’s hair spill over Leo’s tiny shoulder. Safe. Warm. Oblivious.I wish I could crawl back under the covers and sink into that peace with them. But the world outside my door is waiting.Downstairs, I find the script pages fanned out across the kitchen table, a little note in Layla’s neat scrawl: “Didn’t want to wake you. Rest, I’ve got the morning.” A grocery bag sits beside it, half-opened — fresh eggs, bread, strawberries.I wrap my hands around a mug of coffee and stand there, staring at the pages without seeing a single word. Two years. That’s what he said. The lie I want so badly to call a lie — but what if it’s not? What if this is the one truth he’ll ever tell me?The coffee turns cold in my hands. I pour it down the drain and
Signed Sealed and Divorced. The CEO’s biggest regret Chapter Twenty
Cara’s voice is tight with exhaustion when she picks up my call, but I don’t care. I pace the room, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing stopping me from screaming. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I demand, my voice low but sharp enough to cut steel. “Why didn’t you tell me his company was funding the film?” There’s a beat of silence on the other end — the kind that makes my stomach knot. “Sienna,” Cara sighs, “I was going to. But I knew you’d say no the second you heard Adrian’s name.” “And you thought lying was better?” “I didn’t lie!” she snaps back. “I just didn’t volunteer the detail. You needed this. The studio needed you. The timing is perfect — your first movie just broke its box office record, you’re hotter than ever. Walking away now would kill all that momentum.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and sink onto the arm of the sofa. My heart thunders so hard I’m half afraid it’ll tear out of my chest. “He did this on purpose,” I whisper. “It’s always like this — pushing
Signed Sealed and Divorced. The CEO’s biggest regret Chapter Nineteen
I don’t remember closing my eyes.Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I just sat here all night, suit still on, tie crumpled on the marble floor. The city below my penthouse glitters like it’s mocking me — every blinking light a reminder that the world keeps moving whether I live or die.The voicemail I sent Sienna replays in my head on an endless loop. My words. Her silence. I would rather she scream at me, curse my name, threaten to ruin me — anything but this cold void.I drag a hand over my face and stand by the window, forehead pressed to the glass. I see Alina’s tiny face in the reflections. I did not get to see Leo They’re growing up without me. That’s my legacy too — not the skyscrapers, the offshore accounts, the headlines. Just two little souls who don’t know the man who gave them half their DNA.I force myself to shower when the sun stains the skyline in bruised pink. I tie my cufflinks with shaking hands. There’s a boardroom waiting for me. Shareholders who would gut me alive if they kn
Signed Sealed and Divorced. The CEO’s biggest regret Chapter Eighteen
I sit in my room with my hands shaking so hard I can’t even light the damn candle on my nightstand. There’s a chill in the air, or maybe it’s under my skin — crawling, biting, whispering his name in the gaps between my thoughts.Adrian.How dare he? How dare he come into her house, how dare he breathe her air, pretend he has any right to come back like he didn’t tear her apart the first time?I slam my fist against the desk. Papers flutter to the floor — her face stares back at me from every scrap and photograph, a thousand versions of Sienna frozen mid-laugh, mid-tear, mid-lie.She’s mine.She always was.She’ll see that soon enough.I drag in a breath, taste the candle smoke from my failed attempt to calm down. My vision swims. I squeeze my eyes shut. Focus, Leo. He’s just a man. A sick man. Dying anyway — two years, maybe less if I help him along.The thought hits me like sweet brandy down my throat. A laugh bubbles up — sharp, bright, wrong. I clap a hand over my mouth but it tear
Signed Sealed and Divorced. The CEO’s biggest regret Chapter Seventeen
I step back into the glass conference room like I never left — like my knees didn’t almost buckle in the hallway, like my heart isn’t still banging on the inside of my ribs, begging for something I’m too proud to name. Cara’s at the head of the table, sleek and severe, her phone face-down beside her like a threat she can pick up at any second. Layla stands by the floor-to-ceiling window, arms crossed, eyes too soft for this world. She watches me like she’s trying to see if I’m still breathing under all this armor. “Sit,” Cara snaps, like I work for her instead of the other way around. I do as I’m told. It’s easier that way — to obey before I remember I don’t have to. “Dates are locked. First table read Monday in LA. You fly out Sunday, wardrobe tests Tuesday. We’ll spin a custody narrative for the press if it leaks — single mother hero, kids staying back for stability, you commuting every three weeks if you must.” She rattles it off like a grocery list. Layla tries to speak. “What
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