11

(Third Person POV)

Somewhere around that area, Maxwell watched every second through the glass of his car.

His hands rested loosely on the steering wheel, but his knuckles had gone white.

He had built an empire by reading people; he could read the contempt radiating off Kaelan from fifty meters away. Something cold and protective settled in his chest.

He did not plan to care about the woman he saw on the road. Yet here he was, engine still idling, unwilling to drive away.

Maxwell hates the fact someone treats her that way, even though he doesn't trust her.

Sloane stood alone in front of the mansion, divorce papers clutched to her chest like a shield that offered no protection.

Rain started again.

It darkened the cheap hospital T-shirt. She took one step, then another, and started walking away with nowhere to go.

At the same time Maxwell put the car in gear and drove forward, stopping directly in her path.

The window lowered with a soft electric hum.

“Get in,” he said.

Sloane looked at him, rain on her lashes, face pale with humiliation and exhaustion.

For a moment she seemed ready to refuse out of pure pride. He already saw how weak she was, and that's what she doesn't like.

Then the fight left her body. She opened the passenger door and stepped into the leather seat, still holding the divorce papers.

Maxwell did not drive off immediately. He reached into the center console, brought out a black pen, and held it out to her.

“Sign them,” he said quietly. “Right now, then throw them back where they belong.”

Sloane’s eyes widened a little, surprised. “Why would you…”

“Because you need to sign it, and I've decided that I will help you.” His voice was calm, almost gentle, but there was steel underneath. “You will sign those papers, be free of him. After that, we figure out the rest.”

She stared at the pen for a long second. Her hand trembled as she took it.

The legal language blurred, but she found the signature lines. Two strokes of the pen, her signature was on the papers.

Maxwell watched her finish, then nodded toward the mansion.

“Go on, throw it there, you don’t need it.”

Sloane opened the door, stepped back into the rain, and walked to the edge of the driveway. With a sudden, fierce motion she flung the signed papers through the open bars of the gate.

They scattered across the wet stone like discarded white birds.

“I’m done here,” she whispered, loud enough for the cameras and for whoever might still be listening.

She has suffered enough, first her parents ruined her life, wasted her time maltreating her, and then she married someone to free herself as well as help her sister, and the both of them betrayed her.

She shut her eyes, let the tears fall, this was the last tear she will shed for this family.

Then she turned and walked back to the car. She took a last glance behind her before stepping inside the car again.

Maxwell drove off from the curb without looking back.

Thorne's mansion shrank in the rearview mirror until it disappeared entirely behind the rain and the rising city skyline.

Inside the car the silence was thick but no longer empty.

Sloane sat with her hands clenched in her lap, the cheap sneakers leaving faint wet prints on the expensive carpet. Maxwell kept his eyes on the road, but every few seconds his gaze flicked sideways, studying her breathing, the set of her shoulders, and the way she still looked ready to bolt.

“You don’t have to tell me everything,” he said after several blocks. “But I need to know if you’re in physical danger from him beyond those papers.”

“He never hit me. We just got married a few days ago, and believe me it was the worst days of my life.” Sloane sniffed.

Maxwell listened very well even though he was driving.

“I wasn't supposed to be his bride but because I wanted to be free from my cruel parents,” a tear rolled down from the corner of her eyes and she chuckled, the pain stings. “My sister…asked me to help her, marry Kaelan in her place and I did.”

Maxwell’s jaw flexed once. “Your sister.”

“She was the one he loved. Or wanted. Or needed for the family alliance. I was the replacement when she ran away the night before the wedding. Kaelan never forgave me for existing in her place.” Like, he could every single pain in her voice.

“And when she came back, she lied that I kidnapped her…how? How am I capable of that?” She cried.

Maxwell sighed, his heart aching physically.

The car glided through an intersection. Outside, people with umbrellas hurried along sidewalks, ordinary lives continuing.

Inside the car, Sloane felt the strange, fragile sensation of safety for the first time in months. It frightened her almost as much as Kaelan’s hatred had.

“I have a proposal for you.” He said. “You're strong, so continue being the strong girl you are.”

“I'm twenty three, don't call me a girl.” Sloane sniffed, wiping her face.

He scoffed. “I'm old enough to be your elder brother, just so you know.”

“Whatever, what's the proposal about?” Sloane muttered.

“I won't let you go anywhere today, you’ll stay at my mansion. Tomorrow we can talk about the proposal, It's gonna be in your favour and you have to trust me.” He glanced at her. “I don’t do charity often. But I also don’t leave people broken on the side of the road twice.”

Sloane swallowed, gratitude tangled with distrust, relief mixed with the old fear that every kindness eventually demanded payment.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

“Because I watched a man throw divorce papers at a woman standing in the rain like she was garbage,” he smirked. “And because I have more money and more power than Kaelan will ever touch. Sometimes that means I get to decide who walks away and who doesn’t.”

Sloane shook her head. “Are you that rich?”

He parted his lips to say something but then clamped them back.

The city opened ahead of them, glass towers catching the gray light.

Sloane leaned her head against the cool window, eyes half-closed.

“Will you marry me?” He asked, breaking the silence between them.

Sloane raised her head to look at him with shock written all over his face.