The early morning fog rolled over the gray skyline of the city, casting a somber mood over the bustling streets below. From the expansive windows of his penthouse office, Ezra De Luca-Liang stood with his hands in his pockets, staring out at the world that was his. The empire he had built, a perfect blend of Italian elegance and Chinese precision, was sprawling below him. It was an empire built on blood, power, and fear. But none of that mattered to him now.
His mind was consumed by one thought—Celia.
His soon-to-be ex-wife.
Behind him, the heavy oak doors of the office creaked open. He didn't turn to see who it was. He didn't need to. The familiar click of heels on the marble floor was unmistakable.
"I'm here," Celia said, her voice low and steady, though he could hear the faint tremor beneath it.
Ezra didn't respond immediately. He kept his back to her, the tension in the air thickening with every passing second. He had never been good at this—at handling emotions or the fallout of what his cold decisions caused. His world wasn't built on emotions. It was built on control.
But here she was, standing in the heart of his world, the one place she had never truly belonged. He had brought her into this life through their arranged marriage, but he had never let her in. He had kept her at arm's length, his heart walled off by years of violence and mistrust.
He finally turned, his dark eyes landing on her. Celia stood in the doorway, her figure wrapped in a simple black coat that fell to her knees, the very image of grace and restraint. Her thick curls were pulled back into a tight bun, emphasizing the delicate features of her face. She looked small against the vastness of the room, but her presence was undeniable.
Ezra's jaw clenched. She had always been beautiful—far too beautiful for a world like his.
"Do you know why I asked you here?" Ezra's voice was cold, calculated, just like everything else in his life. He kept his hands in his pockets, forcing himself to stay composed.
Celia's dark eyes met his without flinching, though there was an unmistakable hurt in them. "I assume this is about the divorce."
The word hung in the air between them like a curse, but Ezra remained unmoved. Divorce. It was an inevitable end to a marriage that had never been real. He had married her to settle a family debt, to keep his empire intact. Celia had been nothing more than collateral—or so he told himself.
"Yes," he replied after a long pause. "It's time to finalize things. Our lawyers have everything prepared. You'll walk away with what was agreed."
He could see the slight tightening of her lips, the way her hands balled into fists at her sides. She was trying to keep her composure, trying not to let him see how much this hurt. But Ezra knew. He always knew.
"Is that it?" Celia asked, her voice soft, almost defeated. "After everything… this is how it ends?"
Ezra's chest tightened, but he pushed the feeling down. He couldn't afford to feel—not now, not ever. "It's better this way."
"For who?" Celia's voice sharpened, a flash of fire igniting behind her eyes. She took a step forward, her presence filling the room. "Better for you? You think you can just walk away from this, from me, without a second thought?"
Ezra's gaze hardened. "We both knew this wasn't real, Celia. You were never part of this world."
"That's where you're wrong," she shot back, her voice trembling with anger. "I was a part of it. I married you. I tried to understand your life, to be a part of something I never wanted in the first place because I thought… I thought maybe we could make it work."
He clenched his fists in his pockets, struggling to maintain his icy facade. She was too close to the truth. Too close to seeing the cracks in the wall he had built around himself. He needed to end this now.
"This isn't about making it work," Ezra said, his tone growing darker. "It's about survival. My world is dangerous, Celia. You don't belong here, and the sooner you accept that, the better off you'll be."
Celia's face twisted in frustration. "Dangerous? You think I don't know that? You think I don't see the way you live, the people you surround yourself with? But I stayed. I stayed because I believed there was more to you than this cold, heartless man you pretend to be."
Ezra felt something crack inside him at her words, but he refused to let it show. He had to stay in control, had to protect her by pushing her away. "I'm not pretending, Celia. This is who I am."
Her eyes widened slightly, and for the first time since she entered the room, he saw tears brimming in her eyes. But she blinked them away, refusing to let him see her break.
"Fine," she whispered, her voice breaking. "If this is who you are, then I don't want any part of it."
She turned to leave, her shoulders rigid with the effort to hold herself together. Ezra should have let her go. He should have stayed silent and watched her walk out of his life forever. But something inside him snapped.
"Celia, wait."
She stopped, her back still turned to him, but she didn't move.
Ezra swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. "There's… more."
Slowly, Celia turned to face him again, her expression unreadable. "What more could there possibly be, Ezra?"
He hesitated, knowing that what he was about to say would shatter the last fragile pieces of their marriage. But it had to be done.
"I don't believe you anymore," he said, his voice colder than before. "Zara told me everything."
Her eyes flickered with confusion, then hurt. "Zara? What does she have to do with this?"
Ezra's jaw clenched as he forced the words out. "She told me you've been meeting with one of my enemies. She showed me proof that you've been feeding information to them. I trusted you, Celia. I gave you a chance to be a part of this life, but you betrayed me."
Celia's face went pale, her breath hitching as the realization of what he was accusing her of sank in. "You think… you think I would betray you?"
The disbelief in her voice made something inside him twist, but he buried it. He had to believe Zara's words. He had to trust the evidence. Trust was a luxury he couldn't afford in his world.
"I don't think," he said, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "I know."
For a moment, Celia just stood there, her mouth slightly open as if she couldn't quite comprehend what was happening. Then her face hardened, the hurt morphing into anger.
"You're a fool, Ezra," she spat, her voice trembling with fury. "You think you know me, but you don't. You never did."
Without another word, she turned and walked out of the office, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. This time, Ezra didn't call her back.
He stood there, alone, staring at the door she had just walked through, the silence in the room deafening.
But the moment she was gone, an uneasy feeling settled in his chest. He told himself it was for the best, that pushing her away was the only way to protect her from the darkness that followed him. Yet, no matter how many times he repeated it in his mind, the gnawing ache in his chest refused to fade.
Ezra turned back to the window, his reflection staring back at him from the glass. He had built his empire on control, on knowing everything that happened in his world. But for the first time in a long time, he felt as if something crucial had slipped through his fingers.
He couldn't shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—he had made a terrible mistake.
---
Three Months Later
The blaring sounds of New York traffic faded into the background as Celia hurried down the busy street, pulling her coat tighter against the crisp fall air. Her heart pounded in her chest, each step feeling heavier than the last. She had done everything she could to keep herself together since the divorce. She had thrown herself into work, tried to focus on her studies, and built a new life in a city far removed from Ezra's cold, dangerous world.
But no matter how hard she tried to move on, the scars of her marriage lingered. The memory of Ezra's cold eyes, his betrayal, still haunted her. And now, it wasn't just the memories that weighed on her. It was the secret she carried—a secret that would change everything if he ever found out.
Her hand instinctively went to her stomach, feeling the faint swell beneath her coat. She was three months pregnant with Ezra's twins.
A cold shiver ran down her spine as she thought of what would happen if Ezra ever discovered the truth. She had left that world behind, but he was still out there, lurking in the shadows. She couldn't let him find out—not after everything he had accused her of, not after the way he had pushed her out of his life.
She had no choice but to protect her children from the man who had once claimed to love her.
Celia quickened her pace, weaving through the crowds as she made her way to her tiny apartment.