Chapter 84
My hands trembled as I flipped through every page of the divorce agreement. A knot formed in my throat, my chest tightening at the thought of ending our marriage. Blinking rapidly, I cleared my throat, trying to steady myself.
I don't know what hurts more: the thought of ending my one-year marriage with Aurora, or the fact that she's dying. Are any of these real? Am I dreaming? Can someone just slap me and wake me up from this nightmare?
"Ro," I said, closing the portfolio and placing it on my desk. I tried to focus through the blur of my vision. "What... what is the meaning of this?"
Aurora straightened, her gaze sharp. "You heard me. I want a divorce for my birthday. That's your gift," she said. "In return, I'll give you the freedom to finally be with your sidepiece."
I almost laughed. She really thinks Margot and I have a thing? And what about everything that happened between Aurora and me? Will she just throw it all away, unaware that I'm carrying her child again? Will she repeat the past, leaving me alone?
Aurora's eyes flicked to the porcelain doll. She walked over, picked it up, and held it out. "And I'm taking this back with me." Her hand hovered over it for a moment before she stood her ground, the same cold spot she had occupied moments ago.
I froze, trying to process everything, trying to tell whether she was serious or pranking me. We stared at each other, eyes locked.
No. I refused to end this. I didn't marry her to walk away like this.
"Why don't you just sign it, Sloane?" Margot's voice sliced through my thoughts. "Your wife clearly doesn't want you anymore."
My brow rose. I wanted to yell, but I forced myself to remain calm. She wasn't worth it.
I turned back to Aurora when she laughed.
"She's right. Sign it. End this charade.
" She flicked a finger toward Margot. "Look at her.
She's already living here, parading like she's the legal one.
Margot deserves the title she's auditioning for.
Don't let her efforts go to waste. She may as well have your name, too. "
Aurora's smirk was venomous, each word stabbing at me like poison.
Before I could react, Margot lunged. Her hand slammed into Aurora, and the porcelain doll slipped from her grasp, shattering on the floor.
My breath hitched. How dare she? That doll was precious to me, a treasure—and she destroyed it.
"Margot!" I snapped, glaring at her. I couldn't believe she was capable of this. She knew its value. She knew exactly what she'd done.
Aurora scoffed at the broken pieces. I supposed she was about to say something when Margot struck again, punching Aurora square in the face. My eyes widened, stunned by the speed and brutality.
"Ro!" I rushed forward, cupping Aurora's face as blood trickled from her nose. But she shoved me back, and I stumbled, narrowly avoiding the edge of my desk. If I had hit it... I shuddered at the thought of what could've happened to the child inside me.
Aurora lunged at Margot, punching back with controlled fury.
She grabbed Margot by the collar, pulling her close.
"How dare you?" she hissed, eyes blazing.
"Isn't it enough that you've already taken my wife?
You can't even stand on your own, you need to tear me down too? "
Her voice trembled with a kind of anger I had never seen before. I know Aurora—have known her for years—and she isn't someone who loses control like this. Yet now... I saw a storm I hadn't imagined, raw and terrifying, radiating from her.
Margot scoffed, shoving Aurora back. "My fault? You're the one throwing Sloane away!" she snapped, raising her fist again.
I don't know where I found the courage to move, but I did. I stepped between them, catching Margot's wrist mid-air.
"Enough!
" I shouted, glaring at her. "You don't get to lay a fucking hand on my wife, Margot.
" I shoved her hand away and straightened, standing tall between them.
I should've done this before—should've chosen Aurora instead of doubting her, instead of thinking she was just jealous.
"Have you lost your mind, Sloane? She doesn't even see your worth!" Margot shouted back. "She threw you away before, and she's doing it again!"
"Shut up!" I snapped. "Leave us, Margot."
I wasn't listening anymore. I was done being her friend. Done trying to understand her reasons or her twisted idea of protecting me. I was done playing nice. I had tried that before, and all it did was break me.
I pointed toward the door. "Now."
Margot laughed, hollow and bitter, before turning her back and walking out. I followed her to the door, slamming it shut behind her and locking it. The blinds came down with a sharp flick, shutting the world away. We needed this moment. Just us.
When I turned, Aurora was dabbing her bleeding nose with a handkerchief. "Is it true?" I asked quietly. "Ro... are you sick?"
Aurora's posture faltered. She cleared her throat, pressing the cloth harder to her nose. "Can you just sign the divorce papers, Sol?" she asked softly. "Just sign, and we're done. I won't stand in the way of whatever you have with Margot."
I shook my head, my heart pounding. "We're not getting a divorce, Ro."
She couldn't seriously think I wanted Margot. Didn't she see how I threw Margot out just to be here with her?
"Why not?" she asked, her voice muffled.
"Have you forgotten the clause?" I said, the words trembling. "If you initiate the divorce, you lose everything."
Aurora laughed—ragged, bitter, breaking. "Lose everything?" she whispered. "I already lost everything the moment you chose her over me. What's left to lose, Sloane?"
My hands curled into fists. I drew a long breath, forcing myself to stay calm. But when I looked into her eyes, all I saw was emptiness.
"Margot and I aren't in a relationship," I said, my voice steady. "I have never been in any relationship with her. Why won't you just listen?"
Is it really easier for her to throw me away—to push me toward Margot—than to listen to me? I know she's hurt, I know she's scared, but is hearing me out too much to ask?
"Then what about the video, huh?" she pressed. "You—my wife—fighting another woman in front of Margot? That's supposed to mean nothing?"
I froze. Aurora's tears began to fall, streaking through the blood on her face. I lowered my gaze, my voice breaking to a whisper. "It's because I saw her grinding on top of you," I said, barely audible.
I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath before looking back at her through blurred vision. "My decision is firm," I said quietly. "We're not getting a divorce."
Stepping closer, I cupped her cheeks, wiping her tears away, but she only cried harder—as if every touch shattered her further. My throat tightened, my chest aching.
I couldn't break down now. Between us, one of us had to stay strong. I forced a faint smile and kept wiping her tears. "How long have you known, Ro?" my voice cracked. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She scoffed, pulling my hands away and taking a step back. "Thirteen years ago."
The words hit me like a blow. My lips parted, but a bitter laugh escaped instead. I turned away, leaning on my desk for support.
Thirteen years ago? She knew it all along?
"Thirteen years ago..." I echoed, my gaze falling on the portfolio. I grabbed it, tearing the papers apart. "Thirteen years ago, and you didn't tell me?!" I shouted. The tears I had been holding finally broke free.
"Is that..." I pressed my hand against my forehead, the realization crashing down. "Ro—tell me this isn't the reason you broke up with me back then," I pleaded, reaching for her hands.
She hesitated. Then, with a sigh that shattered something inside me, she said it.
"It is. It's the reason I broke up with you thirteen years ago."
My sobs came in gasps. "You... you broke up with me because you were sick?" My voice shook. "Ro! Why the hell would you leave me just because of that?"
She could've just stayed.
I would've taken care of her no matter what.
Why did she have to leave me behind, to bear a pain neither of us ever wanted?
Why would she walk away when she could've stayed beside me?
I would've fought with her against every odd this world could throw.
Aurora rubbed her brow, her voice quiet but firm.
"The same reason I want you to sign the divorce agreement now, Sol.
I want you free of me." She drew a slow breath.
"I'm resigning as CEO. The new one will take over immediately.
You'll manage the finances—you own half of the company anyway.
Everything's yours, just like the clauses say. "
She stepped away from me again, her hands falling limply at her sides. "I don't want anything to do with you anymore. So sign the divorce agreement already. I'm even giving up my rights to Dione."
Then, with one simple motion, she reached for her ring and slid it off her finger. Her faint smile looked forced, brittle. She took my trembling hand, pressing the ring into my palm.
"I'm letting you go, Sol," she whispered.
"So please—just this once, as my birthday gift—sign the divorce agreement.
I won't make a scene. I'll disappear completely from your life—away from you, away from Dione, away from everything.
" She met my eyes through my tears. "Just agree to the divorce. That's all I'm asking."
I sniffled, my breath hitching as I stared at the ring resting cold and heavy in my palm.
My hand curled tightly around it. "You can send me a million copies of that divorce agreement," I said hoarsely, "but I'm not signing a single one, Aurora.
You're not leaving me again—not with a divorce, not with anything. "
Ro, I'm pregnant. The words stayed locked in my throat. Saying it now would be wrong... wouldn't it?
She blinked at me, scoffing, disbelief lacing her tone.
"How can you say that when Margot's out there waiting to be your legal one?
Would you really like her to stay a sidepiece?
Because if you don't sign the divorce, she'll forever be the other woman—the cause of all this. "
The hell do I care about Margot? The only people that matter to me are Aurora and Dione. They're my family.
"I don't even like her," I spat. "I never started anything with her. You're my wife—you're the only one. I didn't have anyone else; I don't have a sidepiece. I'm yours, Ro. Why do you keep believing Margot and I are together?"
Aurora's shout cracked through the air.
"Stop trying to manipulate me!" Her eyes burned.
"If Margot wasn't the one you loved, you should've stayed away from her in the first place!
But no, you let the media spread their lies.
You let them target me instead! You're the one ruining this marriage, Sloane!
So why don't you just sign the papers and end this already? !"
Her words cut deep because she wasn't wrong. I should've spoken up. I should've said something before everything fell apart. I let her take all the heat while I stayed silent.
I forced a small, broken smile. "Alright," I murmured. "I should have cleared things up from the start."
I stepped forward, standing in front of her. "Wait for me. When I've cleared everything, we'll talk about all this again."
She just looked at me for a long moment, saying nothing. Then she turned away, her back rigid, her silence louder than anything she could've said.
"Ro," I called out, my voice trembling. She paused at the door but didn't turn. "Please... don't go anywhere else. Just wait for me to clear things up about Margot. Nothing is going on between us, I swear."
But she said nothing. She just left—quiet, steady, like the sound of something breaking.
A laugh escaped me, fragile and cracked, as tears streamed down my face.
Blinking them away, I crouched down and reached for the shattered porcelain doll. The broken pieces reflected our faces—distorted, incomplete.
"I'll fix it," I whispered, clutching one fragment close. "I'll fix everything, Ro. Just wait for me."
**
All the pieces of the shattered porcelain doll were laid out on the coffee table. With trembling hands, I pieced them together using a glue gun, blowing gently to dry each line of glue as I worked. My fingers stung—sliced by shards, burned by heat—but I didn't stop.
Millie sighed as she sat across from me. "The press agreed to the live conference," she said, setting her phone aside.
I hummed, my focus fixed on the doll. "Thanks, Millie," I murmured, blowing again to dry the glue.
"Do you want me to help you with that?"
Glancing up, I offered her a faint smile and shook my head.
"No, it's fine." I pressed a fingertip against one of the cuts, wincing when blood surfaced.
"It's my fault anyway. I let my trust blind me—I got myself tangled in a mess.
And now, I'm on the verge of losing the one person who truly matters to me. "
A shaky laugh escaped me as I finished the final piece. Setting the glue gun down, I lifted the doll to eye level. She was whole again—but the cracks remained, faint scars running through her porcelain skin.
I clutched the doll to my chest and bowed my head. My eyes shut, and tears fell before I could stop them.
"She wants to divorce me, Millie.
" My voice cracked, trembling. "Do you know how much it hurts—to fight for the right to be her wife, only for her to hand me those papers?
" I sniffled, clutching the doll tighter.
"I don't even know what hurts more—the fact that she broke up with me thirteen years ago because she was sick, or that I only found out today she's sick again.
Or maybe it's that she wants to end our marriage after everything. "
Millie stayed quiet, but she reached for my wounded hand, gently cleaning it before placing band-aids over each cut.
"I don't want her to leave me, Millie. What would Dione think if she found out I ruined the marriage she cherishes so much? You should see her face every time we're all together—her, Aurora, and me. If we divorce, I'm afraid she'll grow to hate me."
Millie stood, patting my head softly.
"Then all the more reason to clear things up.
" She smiled faintly. "I've known you for years, Sloey.
I was there before you even gave birth to Dione.
You always do what's right. So cheer up—Aurora's waiting, just like you asked her to. "
I swallowed hard, wiping my tears before letting out a small laugh. "You're right. I told her to wait for me. I'll go back to her after this conference." I handed her the doll. "Can you hold this for me? I'll take it back afterward."
At my desk, I pulled out my makeup kit from the drawer and exhaled deeply before heading to the washroom. Setting the kit by the sink, I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water onto my face. Again and again—until the sting in my chest dulled.
I looked into the mirror. My eyes were rimmed red, slightly swollen. Clicking my tongue, I shook my head and reapplied my makeup, steadying my breath before leaving.
When I returned, Millie was waiting by the door. She nodded subtly. "Everything's ready. The press is already in the conference room."
I gave her a small smile. "Alright. Let's go."
As we walked, I clenched my fists. You're waiting for me, Ro. You'll wait for me, okay? I whispered inwardly, willing myself to stay composed.
The moment we entered the room, camera flashes erupted like a storm. I nodded politely to the crowd, walking straight to the platform where the microphone waited.
I looked around, taking in the sea of faces, the heat of the lights, the weight of every rumor swirling around me.
I should've done this long ago—but today, I won't hold back. I'll tell the world who truly owns my heart. I'll set everything straight.
Bowing before them, I straightened, turned on the microphone, and spoke.
"Good afternoon, everyone," I began, my voice calm but steady. "Thank you for coming to this live press conference on such short notice."
The cameras kept flashing—bright, relentless. And there I stood, in the very center of it all—beneath the light, within the chaos I had allowed to bloom.
"I want to address the rumors circulating about me and my business partner, Margot Verne.
From the hotel surveillance to the yacht bar incident," I began, my voice steady as I scanned the room.
"The media has painted its own narrative—one I refuse to let stand unchallenged. "
Ro, are you watching this? Are you seeing me stand here, in front of everyone, just to tell them who I really love? I swallowed hard before continuing.
"As you may know, I am married—and I will remain married to Aurora DeLacroix. That fact will not change. I have always been vocal about my commitment. Whatever I share with my wife, it will remain the same. I am bound to her, no matter what."
I don't want to divorce her. Not now. Not ever. I won't let her leave me again. If I have to tie her down to keep her beside me, I will.
"The recent issues," I went on, "have caused unnecessary speculation about my marriage.
Ignoring them won't make them disappear.
So let me be clear: I, Sloane Duvall, have no romantic relationship with Margot Verne.
Yes, the hotel surveillance circulating online is true—I brought Margot to the hotel because she was drunk.
Any speculation that something else occurred between us is completely false. "
My heart thundered, but I stood my ground. Listen to my words, Ro. I'm telling the truth—our truth. I wouldn't betray you. That's not who I am.
I took a step forward, meeting the cameras head-on.
"As for the incident at the yacht bar—yes, I caused a scene.
But not out of jealousy over Margot. I reacted because I saw someone else hovering near my wife that day.
I have every right to be angry if I see my wife with another woman.
.. just as she would have every right to be angry if she saw me with someone else. "
My gaze locked on one of the cameras.
"My relationship with my wife has been smooth sailing from the start," I said, then let out a short, breathy laugh.
"Though, between us, we both know we're more like a storm at sea than calm waters.
Still, we've never let misunderstanding define us. "
I drew a deep breath.
"Lately, with the rumors swirling, Aurora has been bombarded with questions—whether we're breaking up, whether I'm involved with someone else.
But the truth is—I've never been with anyone else.
Even after our breakup a decade ago, I stayed focused on raising our daughter.
The only reason I came back to Monaco was to marry Aurora DeLacroix, the mother of my child.
I can't imagine loving anyone else. My heart has always belonged to my wife and our daughter. "
My pulse pounded against my ribs, the flashes blindingly bright.
"Now that these rumors are affecting both my company and my reputation," I said, pressing my lips into a firm line, "I would like to announce that, effective immediately, the partnership between Maison Verne and Duvall Capital Group is terminated. "
A wave of gasps rippled through the room. Camera flashes exploded like lightning as the reporters scrambled to process my words.
"I hope this will end all the false narratives about me having an affair," I continued.
"Since day one, my heart has belonged solely to my wife, Aurora DeLacroix.
Any misinformation spread in the media will be dealt with legally.
My lawyer will handle all related matters. That's all."
I bowed, ignoring the rising tide of questions shouted my way. I placed the microphone down, refusing to answer another word. Security quickly stepped forward, blocking the press as I turned away.
In the corner, Millie stood beside Soeren. I smiled faintly as I approached them. "I need to leave."
Soeren stepped between us, wrapping an arm around each of our shoulders. "We'll get you out of here," he said firmly, guiding us toward the exit.
We went straight to the elevator and down to the lobby.
The two of them flanked me protectively as we made our way to the parking lot.
When we reached my car, I unlocked it, and Soeren opened the back seat, leaning in to place the gift I'd bought for Aurora—her birthday cake and the porcelain doll I'd repaired.
He even buckled the doll in, careful not to let it fall.
"Thank you," I said softly, smiling at them both. "You guys are the best."
Soeren closed the door and pulled me into a hug. "I hope you two can make it work," he murmured, patting my back.
I hugged him back, humming. "I hope so too. If not, I'll just tie Aurora to our bed."
Soeren pulled away with a laugh. "Oh, what now? Is that your kink?"
I rolled my eyes. "Just shut up, will you?"
"Good luck fixing things," Millie said, squeezing my hand. "I know you two can work it out. And if you ever need someone, you know your brother and I are always here."
I smiled softly. "Thank you. Both of you, really." I clicked my tongue. "But I need to go. I have to see her. I have to talk to her."
"Go on," Soeren urged, his arm wrapping around Millie's waist. "Safe drive home, okay?"
I nodded before slipping into the car. The door shut with a dull thud, and I fastened my seatbelt, starting the ignition. I honked once as I pulled away, catching their waves in the rearview mirror.
The drive home blurred by in a haze of headlights and hope. I kept whispering to myself—I'm coming home, Ro. Just wait for me.
When I reached the mansion, I turned off the ignition and unbuckled my seatbelt. Reaching into the backseat, I picked up the gift, the cake, and the porcelain doll. I shut the door and walked toward the porch.
One of the housekeepers bowed and quickly took the gift and cake from my hands. "Please set those on the dining table," I said, then asked, "Is Aurora here?"
"Ms. Aurora hasn't returned home yet, Madame," she said, bowing again.
I frowned, glancing around. "Did she say where she was going?"
"She mentioned visiting her father, Madame."
"I see. Thank you." I nodded, excusing myself and heading upstairs to the master bedroom.
The moment I opened the door, a chill greeted me. The room was dark, untouched. I flicked the lights on—and froze.
The porcelain doll from Aurora's office was sitting neatly on the console table. A quiet laugh escaped me. I looked down at the one in my hands.
"See? Now you're together," I murmured with a soft smile, setting the repaired doll beside the old one.
I placed my handbag next to them and opened it, ready to grab my phone—but my fingers brushed against an envelope I didn't remember putting there. The one the housekeeper had handed me earlier, meant for Aurora.
A red CONFIDENTIAL stamp stared up at me. My heartbeat slowed.
With trembling hands, I opened it and unfolded the letter inside.
CONFIDENTIAL MEDICAL MEMORANDUM
BioSynthix Pharmaceutical Medical Group
Private Medical Wing – St. Moritz
Patient: Aurora DeLacroix
Program: Oncology – Acute Myeloid Leukemia
Protocol: Stem Cell Therapy C17
Summary of Findings:
Following the most recent cycle of stem-cell infusion therapy, the patient demonstrates temporary clinical improvement: stabilized blood counts, decreased fatigue, improved pallor, and temporary reduction of infection risk.
Prognosis:
While therapy provides remission intervals, it is not curative. Based on disease progression, projected stability intervals will shorten over time. Current medical estimate: 6–9 months of improved quality of life before recurrence.
Further cycles may extend life expectancy; however, the cumulative benefit is limited. Estimated survival window: 2–3 years, with potential for earlier complications depending on relapse severity.
Recommendation:
Continue stem-cell therapy until therapeutic failure. Prepare the patient for eventual progression.
My legs gave out beneath me. I sank to the floor, staring at the words as they blurred through my tears. My chest ached so sharply I thought I might stop breathing.
"I know you announced it," I whispered hoarsely, clutching the paper to my heart, "but... I didn't know it was this bad."
A broken laugh escaped me, hollow and trembling. "Why didn't you tell me, Ro? You said it was just business trips in Switzerland..."
I pressed the document to my chest, eyes burning. "Turns out you were fighting for your life instead."