"Sign it, Mikael."
Aria's voice trembled, but her hand was steady. The papers lay flat on the mahogany desk between them—legal, final.
Mikael Dray didn't move. He stood across from her, the skyline of Halvar City casting long shadows through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. The same skyline he'd helped her father reclaim. The same city he had bent into a chessboard.
He glanced at the golden seal of the Elston family crest embossed on the document.
Annulment.
"I just closed a $300 million deal for your father's firm." His voice was soft. Controlled. "You'd think I'd get at least a thank-you card before the execution."
Aria looked away.
Her gown was ivory silk—custom-tailored, like everything else in her life. Her lipstick had faded. Her diamond earrings, the ones he bought after the Paris acquisition, glittered with every breath she took.
"This isn't personal," she whispered.
"No?" Mikael took a slow step forward, the soles of his shoes quiet against the Persian rug. "Three years of building your family's legacy from the bones up. Rebranding your toxic assets. Navigating scandals. Turning your father's wine cellar into a Forbes feature. And now, you call it—what—irreconsible difference ?"
"Don't make this harder than it has to be." Aria's jaw tightened. "You always said this marriage was a strategy. A transaction."
"It was supposed to be, things changed we grew up, fell for each other, it was a strategy." He nodded. "But unlike your father, I don't torch my investments after they yield returns."
She flinched, she couldn't say anything anymore.
Behind her, the office door opened.
Gerald Elston entered, sharp in a tailored charcoal suit, the patriarch of the empire Mikael rebuilt. His smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Let's not drag this out, Dray. You were good at what you did, and very efficient. But this phase is over. We've secured international backing. Our daughter doesn't need to be tied to... legacy projects anymore."
Legacy projects, in order words someone with no title.
That's what Mikael was now. A finished chapter. A tool discarded after the job.
He let out a dry breath.
"I should've known," Mikael murmured. "When you stopped looking me in the eye during board meetings. When Aria canceled dinner three weeks in a row. When my name disappeared from the press release about the merger."
Gerald didn't blink. "You served your purpose. Be proud of that."
Mikael turned to Aria again. "You let them erase me. Just like that?"
"I didn't erase you," she said softly. "I'm just... choosing a different future."
"Because of Emmerick Zayne?" He tilted his head. "The Monaco billionaire with a yacht named after his dog?"
Aria didn't answer.
The silence was louder than any confession.
Mikael nodded once. Then he reached for the pen.
"No need to insult me with a check, you can keep it" he said dryly, as Gerald reached into his jacket. "I wouldn't cash it anyway."
He signed the papers in a single stroke, folded the pen, and left it on the document like a tombstone.
Aria watched him without a word. Maybe she expected him to beg. Maybe she hoped he'd fall apart, demand answers.
But Mikael Dray never begged.
He walked to the door.
Paused.
Turned.
His eyes—dark, calm, unreadable—met Gerald's.
"I built your empire once."
Then his gaze flicked to Aria.
"I won't do it again." His voice was a low hum, but it filled the room, chilling the air. "And you, Aria… you'll remember every brick I laid. Every fire I put out. You'll remember what it felt like to stand on solid ground, and you'll know who built it for you." He paused, letting the silence stretch, heavy with unspoken accusations. "Because when it all collapses, you won't have me to call."
With that, Mikael Dray turned and walked out, leaving behind two people who suddenly felt the weight of an invisible future settling heavily on their shoulders. The golden Elston crest on the annulment papers seemed to gleam mockingly in the fading light, testament to a loyalty they had foolishly deemed expendable.