CHAPTER 18 Signing the Past Away
POV: Dual (Maya / Julian)
MAYA
Stepping into the glass-and-steel monolith of Thorne Enterprises used to make my stomach knot into tight, painful twists.
I used to be the quiet wife slipping through the back entrance, making sure Julian’s life ran smoothly while pretending I didn't care that I was invisible.
Today, I walked straight through the front doors wearing a sharp ivory blazer, my head held high.
When the executive elevator dinged on the top floor, Julian’s secretary didn't hand me a clipboard or offer a pitying smile. She just nodded with deep respect and opened the heavy double doors to his private suite.
Julian was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out over the city skyline.
The moment he heard my heels on the hardwood, he turned.
The breath caught in my throat. He looked devastating—crisp black suit, open collar, and a raw, vulnerable look in his dark eyes that hit me right in the chest.
On the center of his massive mahogany desk lay the thick stack of legal documents. The divorce papers. "You didn't bring a lawyer," Julian said, his deep voice thick with an emotion he wasn't trying to hide anymore.
"I don't need one," I said, walking up to the desk. "We both know what’s in those pages, Julian. No bitter alimony fights, no corporate liquidations. Just the end of a transaction."
He flinched. The word transaction sliced through the heavy silence between us, a reminder of the cold, loveless arrangement he’d forced on me for four years.
"It wasn't just a transaction, Maya," he rasped, stepping closer until I could feel the intense, magnetic heat radiating off him. "Not to me. Not anymore."
"It was," I said gently, meeting his intense gaze without flinching. "It was an obligation built on ghosts and duty. But to start fresh... we have to burn the old contract to the ground."
JULIAN
Looking at Maya right now, I felt a dangerous mix of overwhelming pride and gut-wrenching terror.
She was vibrant, fierce, and entirely her own woman.
She didn't need my name, my money, or my protection. I’d spent four years ignoring the brightest light in my universe, and now I was holding the pen that would officially set her free from me.
Every instinct in my body—the possessive, ruthless alpha built to hold on to what was mine—wanted to snatch those papers and tear them into shreds. I wanted to pull her against my chest, lock the office doors, and demand she give us another chance right now.
But true love wasn't about control. I’d learned that the hard way.
Loving Maya meant giving her the choice I’d denied her for four years.
"You're right," I said, my voice rough as gravel.
I uncapped my heavy silver fountain pen, pulled the final signature page toward me, and signed my name on the dotted line without a single second of hesitation.
Maya blinked, a flash of genuine surprise crossing her beautiful face.
"You didn't even try to stall." "I spent four years keeping you trapped in a cage made of my own stupidity, Maya," I said, sliding the document across the polished wood to her.
"If you want your freedom, I'm giving it to you with both hands. No legal games. No pressure."
She picked up the pen. For a split second, her hand trembled, and my heart hammered against my ribs like a caged beast. Then, with a smooth, decisive stroke, she signed Maya Vance.
Not Thorne. Vance. She set the pen down, letting out a long, shuddering breath that sounded like a weight falling off her shoulders.
"It's done," she whispered, looking up at me.
"It's done," I agreed, stepping around the desk until I was standing right in front of her.
The tension in the room was electric, crackling with four years of unspoken passion and unresolved desire.
I reached out, my fingers barely brushing the curve of her jawline, feeling her pulse race under my touch.
"The unequal, broken marriage is dead, Maya. You owe me nothing."
"And what happens now, Julian?" she asked, her voice dropping to a breathy murmur, her lips parting slightly. I leaned down, stopping just millimeters from her mouth, letting her feel the absolute, uncompromising devotion burning in my soul.
"Now," I growled softly, my dark eyes locked on hers, "I start courting you from scratch. And this time, Maya Vance... I'm playing to win."