All Chapters of Signed Sealed and Divorced. The CEO’s biggest regret: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Adrian’s head throbbed like someone had hammered nails straight into his skull. Morning sunlight leaked through half-closed blinds, striking across his living room where he had collapsed the night before, shoes still on, jacket crumpled at his side. The empty glass beside him stank of whiskey, and the television across the room still glowed with some late-night rerun he didn’t remember turning on. For a long moment, he lay motionless, trying to stitch the fragments of the previous day together—the cold marble of the church, Leo’s provocation, his rage, Sienna’s wide eyes, the sting of her hand meeting his face, and the sharp sound of gasps echoing through the mourners.He was sure Leo had a hand in whatever was going wrong. He was sure of it. He always knew he had a thing for Sienna. Right from the beginning he knew, he just didn’t see him as a liar and a manipulator. He groaned, pushing himself upright. His phone was buzzing again. He didn’t want to look, but habit made him swipe

Sienna and Adrian left the facility in a kind of dazed silence that felt like the quiet after a storm. City Z melted away behind them in a blur of low hedges and glass facades; through the jet’s small oval window the sky was the washed indigo of late afternoon. Adrian’s hand found hers on the armrest as if drawn by habit more than intent, and she didn’t pull away.“I’m tired,” he said, voice small in a way she hadn’t heard in months. “I’m tired of not being with you. Tired of everything I’m trying to do not working. What more can I do Sienna. Why can’t you see my heart?”“I forgive you” she said simply, and found her own voice steady, decisive. There was no rehearsal to this. No second takes. “I agree to trying again with you. I’ll be with you. Through the chemo, through whatever comes after. Even if—” She paused because the sentence wanted to twist into a dozen ugly futures. She swallowed that away. “Even if it doesn’t work. I won’t leave.”He looked at her then, really looked, as i

The hospital smelled faintly of antiseptic and polished tile, that strange mix of sterile calm and unspoken dread. Sienna walked a half-step beside Adrian, her hand brushing his every so often, neither of them saying much as they were ushered down the corridor. The nurse at the reception had spoken softly, as though volume itself might break the man walking in with the weight of a life clinging to him. When they reached the consultation room, the nurse opened the door, and Adrian stepped in first. A file was waiting on the polished desk, thick and neatly clipped. His name was printed across the tab in bold type: Adrian Hawthorne Caldwell. He stared at it for a long moment, eyes narrowing as though the name might shift into something he recognized more easily. His fingers hovered before he finally picked it up. “It doesn’t feel like me,” he muttered, almost to himself. “This name. It feels… clinical. As if I’m already reduced to a case study.” Sienna, seated close enough that her

The late afternoon light followed Layla and Sienna back inside, golden beams spilling across the polished floorboards. Their laughter, still carrying from the garden, lingered in the air like perfume. As they stepped into the living room, they found Voss already waiting, tall and composed, a shadow cutting clean lines against the soft glow of the chandelier. His mouth curved into a polite smile, though his sharp eyes softened the moment they landed on Lyla and Sienna. “Miss Monroe,” he greeted smoothly, holding out a sleek black box with both hands as though it were something delicate, something sacred. “From Mr. Adrian.” Sienna blinked, taken aback. “For me?” Her voice was a whisper of surprise, though her hand moved forward almost on instinct. She cradled the box against her chest before opening it with careful, reverent fingers. Inside lay a silver locket, polished to a mirror shine. She unlatched it, and the hinge gave way with a faint click. Her breath caught. A tiny ph

Adrian sat at the head of the table, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a faint shadow of stubble still lining his jaw. He was usually immaculate before leaving for work, but this morning, he had given his attention to something else — his daughter. Alina leaned over her workbook, her small brows furrowed, dark hair falling across her cheek as she gnawed on the end of her pencil. She tapped at the page, frustration spilling across her delicate features. “I don’t get it,” she muttered, pushing the book away. “Numbers don’t make sense.” Adrian chuckled, setting his coffee aside and sliding her book closer. “Numbers always make sense, princess. They just need a little patience.” Sienna, leaning against the counter with a soft smile, watched him draw closer to their daughter. She folded her arms across her robe, her hair falling loosely around her face, still damp from the shower. There was something endlessly endearing about watching Adrian like this — his composure breaking, his bu