Aria’s POV

As I walked out, I could still hear them fussing over Shane. The chatter and concerned murmurs filtered through the heavy doors while the waiters gave me strange looks. I felt extremely embarrassed and humiliated, so I hurried outside, desperate to escape their prying eyes.

The rain pelted down relentlessly, soaking me to the skin within moments. Shivering, I struggled to wrap my thin shawl tighter around me. I must have looked ridiculous, standing there drenched and miserable, trying to hail a cab.

“Please, just let me get out of here,” I muttered under my breath, casting frantic glances down the deserted street.

“Aria!” I heard someone calling my name. My heart sank. Great, just what I needed. Someone to give me more trouble.

I quickened my pace, ignoring the voice, hoping they'd take the hint and leave me alone.

In my haste, I stepped awkwardly on a slick patch of pavement. Pain shot through my ankle as it twisted beneath me, and I pitched forward, bracing myself for the hard impact.

But instead of hitting the ground, I was caught in a warm embrace.

Immediately I looked up and saw myself gazing at a familiar face. The handsome man, with his sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes, looked very concerned. His tousled dark hair suited his rugged yet approachable demeanor. “Are you okay, Aria?”

When my name was mentioned, I was taken aback, my mind racing through my memories. Who is this guy?

“I’m alright, thanks,” I managed to say, though I was wincing with pain.

He held an umbrella above our heads as he guided me toward the nearby shed. That’s when it hit me how I knew him.

This is Samuel Thorn, Victor’s older brother! Though half-brother, I could see the resemblance.

We hadn’t met many times before, but I remembered hearing that he worked abroad, running his own business. I hadn’t heard Victor mention he was back in town, but that wasn’t unusual. My husband rarely shared anything with me. And somehow, they didn’t seem to keep in touch often.

I stepped back a little, worried about dirtying Samuel’s clothes with my wet and muddy state. “I appreciate your help, but I don’t want to keep you. You should get back to the event.”

Samuel frowned, glancing down at my ankle. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looked like a nasty twist.”

“It’s fine, really,” I insisted, forcing a smile. “I’ll just need to rest it a bit. I really have to go home now.”

“But where’s Victor?” he wondered.

“He’s still busy with his business associates. I don’t want to bother him.”

I could tell that my ankle was swollen, but I insisted on leaving because I didn’t want to trouble Samuel any further.

“You know what? Let me just take you home,” he suddenly offered. “That way, you don’t have to keep standing on that ankle and you can rest immediately.”

“I don't want to be a bother,” I muttered.

“Don’t be silly,” he said softly. Before I could protest, he draped his coat over my shoulders, the warmth and faint scent of his cologne enveloping me.

“Come on, let me take you home,” he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I hesitated, feeling a fusion of gratitude. Finally, I nodded. “Alright. Thanks so much, Samuel.”

He gave me a small smile and led me to his car. The inside was warm and welcoming, a stark contrast to the chilly night outside. I settled into the passenger seat, wrapping his coat tighter around me, giving me a soothing feeling.

Samuel took me home, his arm wrapped around my waist to support my limping form. As soon as we stepped inside, he called out to the maid, “Can you help Aria change clothes? She needs to rest.”

The maid nodded and guided me to my room. I winced as I moved, my ankle throbbing with every step. Once in my room, I gingerly applied a plaster to my swollen ankle. The pain subsided a bit, but I knew it would take time to heal. After a quick shower, I changed into something more comfortable.

I emerged from the bathroom, surprised to see a delicious-looking meal laid out on the dining table.

“Feeling better?” Samuel asked, walking over to me.

“A bit,” I admitted. “Thank you for everything.”

He gave me a warm smile. “Come on, let me help you to the table.” He offered his arm again, and I gratefully took it, allowing him to lead me to the dining area.

“I was hungry, so I asked the chef to prepare something,” he explained, pulling out a chair for me. “Join me?”

I nodded, my stomach growling in agreement. “I'd love to. I didn't eat anything at the business dinner party.”

Samuel chuckled as he took a seat across from me. “I figured. Those things are more about appearances than actually eating.”

I felt a little awkward as I sat down. I didn't know what to say so I just kept quiet. But Samuel naturally started the conversation. Amazingly, he seemed to know how to make people feel comfortable. Gradually, I let my guard down and started talking more. I began to feel very relaxed.

“I haven't had a meal like this in ages,” I confessed. “It's nice to just... enjoy the moment.”

Samuel's expression softened. “I'm glad I could be a part of it.”

Just then, Victor returned home. As he saw Samuel and me chatting happily, his face twisted with anger, as if he'd been robbed of something he owned. His eyes narrowed, and he approached us with a cold tone, asking, "What are you two doing?"

I thought he was still upset about the event at the dinner party. “Hi, Victor,” I greeted him, trying to keep my tone light. “Samuel saw me outside the hotel and offered to bring me home because it was raining.”

He glanced at me without responding. Instead, he turned to Samuel, his brow furrowing. “Samuel, I didn't know you were back in the country.”

Samuel nodded, his demeanor as calm and composed as ever. “I arrived yesterday.”

They stood in silence, an uncomfortable tension hanging in the air. It was a bit weird. The way they treated each other made them seem nothing like brothers.

Just then, Alicia came in, her eyes immediately lighting up when she saw Samuel. She didn't even glance my way.

“Samuel! It's been ages!” Alicia exclaimed, rushing over to him. Even though she wasn't Samuel's real mother, she always seemed to be good to him. I guessed it was because Samuel was very successful in his career.

They went off to talk, leaving me alone with Victor.

Victor finally looked at me, his frown deepening. “What happened to you?” he asked, his voice clipped. He motioned to my bandaged foot.

I was taken aback by his tone. Did he just show concern for me? That’s definitely a first. I never thought he’d ever care for me, and this rare moment left me feeling conflicted as I recalled how he frequently blamed me and made me so unhappy in the past.

“I twisted my ankle, and it really hurts,” I whispered and found myself expecting more.

He came over and checked my ankle. I felt a glimmer of hope in my chest.

Perhaps he really is starting to care about me. If I tell him we have a child, will he also start learning to love me?

Aria’s POV

Just as I was about to speak, Victor straightened up and waved his hand to interrupt me. “Aria, I think you should apologize to Shane and to my mother,” he said firmly.

What the hell for? So that’s it? When I thought he was starting to care about me, all he wanted was for me to apologize for something I hadn't done.

“I said, it wasn’t my fault. It was Shane. She grabbed me, trying to make me fall.” This explanation was really silly. How could he possibly believe me?

Sure enough, as soon as I finished speaking, he impatiently waved his hand, signaling me to stop talking.

"Can you stop being so childish? Why do you always pick on Shane? Can't you just learn something from Shane, even if it's just a little bit?"

Great. He’s starting again, constantly comparing me to Shane.

He kept on talking, but I started to think. In these five years of marriage, what did I really gain?

Disdain, calloused hands from working like a laborer in the house, and my husband's dislike. No one thinks I'm worthy to be Victor's wife.

In reality, I found it ridiculous. I had been struggling with whether to let Victor know that we were going to have a child since he was the father, after all. But seeing his indifferent expression and hearing his words, I felt none of this mattered anymore; I just wanted to leave him.

“Victor,” I interrupted him, my voice steady despite the storm inside me, “I want a divorce.”

As soon as I mentioned divorce, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. Judging by the shocked look on Victor's face, I knew he never expected me to ask for a divorce. Ever.

But then, with an impatient look, he scoffed, “Aria, stop being unreasonable. Is it really so hard to apologize?”

I was stunned, hurt by my husband’s disdainful expression and attitude toward me. I couldn’t believe he thought I was joking, and that he was still more focused on that apology!

I took a deep breath. “I'm serious, Victor. I want a divorce. I want to leave you.”

His eyes narrowed, his impatience giving way to irritation. “Is this one of your tantrums again? It’s not funny at all. This isn’t like you, Aria.”

“Tantrums?” I said with disbelief, my voice rising a little bit. “I’ve never even thrown any tantrum before. I’m not joking, Victor. I’ve really thought about this for a long time. I can’t keep living like this.”

There. I’ve said it. I never thought I would ever muster enough courage, but I guess my patience had finally run out.

“What exactly do you want? Haven’t I treated you well enough? I’m very busy every day and don’t have time to play games with you,” Victor snapped, his voice icy and dismissive.

What? Did he really think he was good to me? I wanted to lash out, to release all the negative emotions that had been piling up inside for years. I took a deep breath, ready to explain how he and his family had treated me over the years.

But just as I opened my mouth to speak, his phone buzzed. And without a word, he answered it. I couldn't hear the conversation, but I could see the furrow in his brow and the impatience in his stance.

When he hung up, he looked at me with a mixture of annoyance and condescension. “You see, I’m very busy. I have to go now, but you’d better hurry and apologize to my mother and to Shane. I won’t pursue this matter further, and we can pretend you never mentioned the divorce.”

He didn’t wait for my response. He just turned and left, the door closing behind him with a decisive click. I stood there in a daze, watching him leave. My heart ached with a deep, persistent pain.

I can’t believe it. Here I was, opening up a serious matter regarding our marriage, and he was just brushing it off.

I had thought about it for months, weighing the decision, imagining every possible outcome. Finally, I had found the courage to speak my truth, to tell him I wanted a divorce.

But to him, it was just a joke. A fleeting annoyance he could brush off and dismiss.

Who am I kidding? I never mattered to him, and this just proves it further.

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

Everything that happened in the past few years came back to me in a rush.

Before we got married, I loved him so much. I pursued him with the same fervor as chasing a fragile bubble, captivated by its beauty and determined to hold onto it, no matter how fleeting or elusive it seemed.My parents knew how much I loved him, which is also why my father supported Victor's company.

I thought our wedding day would be the beginning of my dream life with him. I had always daydreamed about a wonderful marriage and a lasting love, just like a little girl.

After we got married, I did everything I could, just hoping he would notice me a bit more. But all he did was ignore me and spend more time with Shane.

This is not over, I thought as I blinked back tears. He might think he could ignore me, but I knew my own mind, my own heart.

Does he still think I'll give in as usual? I won't do that anymore. I and our future child deserve better, and I’m very much determined to leave this marriage.

Victor’s POV

I can’t believe this woman’s being so irrational! What a way to throw a tantrum!

The events of last night replayed in my head like a broken record. Aria's request for a divorce felt like a dagger through my heart. And yet, the more I thought about it, the more annoyed I got.

I sat at my office desk, my mind swirling with confusion and frustration. Taking a big gulp from the wine I had in front of me, I decided to get back to the task I was doing. But I could not focus. Aria’s face kept popping up in my head, her voice echoing in my ears.

Last night, when I’d come back from a work-related errand, my mother and brother were already gone. I had slept in the guest room, not wanting to face Aria after our argument.

Today, throughout the day at the office, I tried to lose myself in the piles of documents and hours of meetings, but Aria's words had kept etched in my mind. Her jealousy, her constant need for attention, it all felt so unlike the woman I had married.

I remember she used to be quite independent and competent, having worked a bit at her father’s company. But now, she seems lost all the time, always full of insecurities and doubts.

How did she turn out like that? Is it because we hardly spent time together? Or is it because she stopped working after getting married to me?

As I sat there, lost in my thoughts, a knock on my door snapped me back to reality.

“Mr. Thorn? The board’s waiting for you in the conference room.” It was my assistant Phil.

“Oh, right. Thanks. I’ll be right there.” I pushed my confusion aside and focused on the task at hand.

After the meeting, I packed my things and headed out. Mom had called, asking me to come to her house for dinner.

I don’t have time to deal with my wife’s unreasonable whims and unstable emotions, I thought. I’m too busy, especially with this new app that we’re developing. And now my mother wants to see me.

As I drove toward my mother's house, the familiar route triggered memories I thought I had buried deep.

My marriage with Aria was arranged, a strategic move to solidify a partnership with her father's business. I needed the boost for my own company, and her father's condition was clear.

“Marry my daughter,” he’d told me firmly. I remembered being shocked, but I saw no reason to object. Aria was beautiful and seemed intelligent, qualities that could benefit my ambitions.

In those early days, I didn't really like her. Not personally. But I respected her abilities and what she represented for my business goals. I was single-minded in my pursuit of success, my eyes firmly fixed on the billionaire status I now proudly held.

It was all worth it.

Then, there was that night. I got drunk at a party, a rare indulgence, and woke up to find myself naked beside Aria. The realization hit me like a freight train. How could I have let this happen? But the shock didn't end there.

Shortly after, compromising photos flooded my work email. Pictures of Aria and me, clearly taken that night. The message was clear: marry Aria, or these images would go public.

I remembered confronting Aria afterwards. “Are you blackmailing me?!” I was so angry. I didn’t like people manipulating me in any way. “You know perfectly well that I have to marry you for the sake of my company, my business. Why are you still doing this!”

Aria looked bewildered, as if she honestly knew nothing about it. “I didn’t take those pictures!” She was quite defensive. “Besides, if those get out, me and my family will also be ruined.”

But I didn’t believe her. I knew that they could find a way to deal with such, to make it go away, because of their money.

On the other hand, my reputation might go down the drain along with the company I represented. My business, all my hard work, could go to waste! I was terrified.

I recalled grabbing her phone and opening the folders of photos. There they were! It was clear evidence.

“I-I don’t know how those got there, I swear!” Aria claimed then. “Besides, I was drunk and asleep too. I couldn’t have taken those pictures!”

I was furious. Even though I had planned to marry her, she had to stoop to something like this to make sure I had no way out or that I would never back down.

It was a bitter feeling. Betrayed by someone I barely knew and now forced into a marriage I never wanted.

But what choice did I have? I had to protect my business, to salvage my reputation. So, I married Aria.

Well, I give her plenty of money and she doesn’t need to work at all, I thought. She should be happy. And she should consider herself lucky.

Thinking back to the few years we’d spent as husband and wife, I would say I’ve fulfilled my duties as a husband, taking care of her needs and wants.

Why is she never satisfied?

I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white as I navigated the winding road.

"Why does she always have to stir up trouble?" I muttered to myself, thinking about how Aria seemed to always cause trouble for Shane.

Shane never complained, though. She always wore that same understanding smile, brushing off Aria's antics as if they were nothing more than a mild inconvenience. I liked that about her. She was always very classy and refined, completely different from Aria.

As I drove, memories of the accident suddenly flooded my mind. I believe it was Shane who had pulled me from the wreckage. Yes, I saw her wearing that necklace with the heart pendant.

I had been in and out of consciousness, but I remembered the flash of a necklace, its pendant glinting in the firelight. Shane had worn it ever since. I’ll always be grateful for what she did, sacrificing her own safety for me. That accident brought us closer to each other.

When I finally arrived at my mother’s house, I saw my brother Samuel just stepping out.

"I have to leave for work," he said, his voice clipped and efficient. There was no warmth, no hint of the bond we should have shared as brothers.

I forced a polite smile. "Would you like to stay for dinner, Samuel? "

He glanced at his expensive watch. “I'm afraid I can't. There's a conference call with the London office in an hour.”

As I watched my brother’s hurried back retreat to his car, I couldn't shake the thought of Aria. Her radiant smile during dinner with Samuel last night replayed in my mind. It was a stark contrast to the perpetual frown she wore around me lately.

She actually seemed happy, even though they don’t see each other often. The thought made me narrow my eyes. What were they so thrilled about? Why did they act as if they were close?

My eyes narrowed as suspicion crept in. But it doesn’t matter, I told myself silently. She probably just wants my attention again.

I just need to stay quiet and give her some room, and soon enough, she'll come begging to be with me again, like she always does.