Chapter 8: The Terms of the Engagement

 

The Oakfield estate looked exactly the same as it had the night Lillian walked out, yet to her, it felt like a completely different house. The grand iron gates opened automatically as her modest sedan drove up the long, winding driveway. She parked near the front entrance, turning off the engine and taking a deep breath before getting out.

She wasn’t here to move back in. She was here to collect the rest of her belongings and to deliver her terms to Nathaniel face-to-face.

She unlocked the front door with her key and stepped into the quiet foyer. The house felt cold, devoid of the warmth she had spent years trying to cultivate. She walked upstairs to the master bedroom, pulled a large suitcase from the closet, and began systematically packing her clothes, books, and personal mementos.

She was halfway through her jewelry box when she heard the sound of a sports car engine outside, followed by the heavy front door opening downstairs. Footsteps hurried up the grand staircase, and Nathaniel appeared in the bedroom doorway, still wearing his work suit but without his jacket.

He stopped, his eyes landing on the open suitcase on the bed. “What are you doing?”

“Packing,” Lillian said simply, not looking up as she wrapped a silver necklace in tissue paper.

“Lillian, please don’t do this,” Nathaniel said, walking into the room and standing at the foot of the bed. “I thought about what you said yesterday at the office. I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. But moving out permanently isn’t the solution. We can make this work. We can live here together, comfortably. I’ll give you your space.”

Lillian finally looked up, her expression completely detached. “We are not making anything work, Nathaniel. I am moving back into my mother’s house permanently. My lawyer is already drafting a formal separation agreement.”

Nathaniel’s eyebrows pulled together. “A separation agreement? If we legally separate, does that count as a violation of the will’s clause?”

Lillian let out a quiet, mocking chuckle. “See? Within ten seconds, you brought it back to the money. To answer your question, no. My lawyer checked. As long as we do not finalize the dissolution of marriage within the next twelve months, the shares remain intact. The clause specifies divorce, not physical separation.”

Nathaniel visibly relaxed, a subtle sigh escaping his lips. “Okay. Okay, that’s good. If you need time away from me to heal, I understand. I can stay at a hotel or move into one of the penthouse apartments downtown so you can have the house.”

“No, Nathaniel,” Lillian said, closing the suitcase with a sharp click. “You don’t get to play the martyr here. You will stay in this house, and I will live my life elsewhere. But let’s lay down the ground rules for the next year, because you are going to follow them to the letter.”

Nathaniel straightened up, his corporate demeanor returning as he crossed his arms. “What kind of rules?”

“Rule number one,” Lillian said, stepping around the bed to face him directly. “You will not be seen in public with Vanessa Clarke. Not at dinners, not at charity galas, and definitely not entering or leaving her apartment. If a single photograph of the two of you hits the press this year, I will file for an expedited divorce the next morning, and your shares will be gone before the sun sets.”

Nathaniel’s jaw tightened. “Vanessa is part of my life, Lillian. You can’t expect me to just—”

“I can and I do,” Lillian interrupted, her voice sharp as steel. “You spent three years flaunting her in my face. For the next twelve months, she does not exist to the public. If she truly loves you for who you are and not your bank account, she can wait in hiding for a year. Let’s see how patient she is.”

Nathaniel remained silent, his eyes dark with frustration, but he didn't argue. He knew she held all the leverage.

“Rule number two,” Lillian continued. “You will provide a monthly allowance, but not for me. You will fund a full scholarship program at the city university’s nursing department under my name. You will pay for the tuition and books of twenty students who can’t afford it. Consider it your penance for making me drop out twice.”

Nathaniel looked at her, a flicker of genuine surprise passing through his eyes. “You’re not keeping the money for yourself?”

“I don’t want your money, Nathaniel. I want to build something real,” she said, her voice filled with a quiet dignity that made him shift uncomfortably. “Rule number three. When the twelve months are up, we will finalize the divorce quietly, with no contests, no media circus, and no legal battles. You will give me a clean break, and you will never contact me again.”

Nathaniel stared at her, looking at the sharp outline of her jaw, the determination in her clear blue eyes, and the complete lack of affection in her gaze. For three years, he had been accustomed to a wife who looked at him with adoration and desperate hope. Seeing her look at him with nothing but cold indifference stirred a strange, unfamiliar ache in his chest.

“And what if I don’t want to divorce you in a year?” Nathaniel asked suddenly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “What if things change between us during this time?”

Lillian looked at him for a long moment, then picked up her suitcase from the bed. She walked past him toward the bedroom door, stopping just at the threshold to look over her shoulder.

“Nothing is going to change, Nathaniel,” she said softly. “You had three years to love me, and you chose to destroy me instead. Now, you get to watch me rise without you. Enjoy your empire. You paid a very high price for it.”

She walked down the stairs, her suitcase rolling smoothly behind her. She didn't look back at the grand chandeliers or the expensive paintings. She walked out the front door, got into her car, and drove away from the billionaire world, ready to conquer her own.