### Chapter 1 “Dustin, here’s the divorce agreement prepared by Ms. Nicholson. All you need to do is sign,” Lyra Blaine announced, her voice as unyielding as the polished surface of the desk in the president's office of the Quine Group. She slid a piece of A4 paper across the table with the precision of a seasoned professional, her immaculate appearance reflecting her role as Dahlia Nicholson's relentless secretary. Dustin Rhys sat frozen in his chair, dressed simply—far too simply for the gravity of the moment. “Divorce? What do you mean?” His heart raced, disbelief washing over him. Lyra’s sharp gaze met his, unwavering and indifferent. “Are you really playing dumb? Your marriage to Ms. Nicholson is over. You’ve fallen behind—she's moved on to heights you can’t even fathom. Your very presence is nothing more than a stain on her illustrious reputation!” An icy chill crept into Dustin’s voice. “A stain? Is that how she views me?” Back when their journey had begun, the Nicholson family was teetering on the brink of financial collapse, and it was he who had extended a lifeline, lifting them from the depths of despair. Now, with her name gracing the covers of countless magazines as a self-made billionaire, Dahlia was poised to eject him from her life without a second thought. “Something like that,” Lyra replied bluntly, gesturing toward a magazine lying open on the table, its headlines screaming of glory. “Look here, Dustin. Ms. Nicholson has reached a net worth of one billion, a feat that places her at the pinnacle of success in just three years. She’s Swinton's most coveted woman! And you? You’re just an ordinary man—unworthy and out of place. It’d be wise for you to see reason and do what needs to be done.” Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Dustin’s brow furrowed deeper. “So, after all I’ve done for her, this is my reward? I’m supposed to just accept that she wants a divorce?” “Indeed,” Lyra sighed. “You helped her rise from the ashes, but her gratitude has limits. You owe her for your past, despite what you think you’re entitled to.” “Is that all it was to her—to you?” Dustin drew in a deep breath, the weight of his frustration boiling below the surface. “If she wishes to end this, let her tell me herself.” Lyra’s expression hardened. “Ms. Nicholson is far too busy for such trivial matters.” “Trivial?” He scoffed bitterly. “Is this how she sees our marriage? Some trifling inconvenience? She won’t even spare a moment for me anymore.” “Dustin,” Lyra said, her voice sharp as glass, “do not prolong this charade. Sign the papers, and you’ll receive a car, a house, and eight million dollars. It’s a generous settlement—more than you will earn throughout your entire life!” “Eight million is a lot, yes, but…I don't want it,” Dustin retorted coldly. “I’ll only sign if she appears before me. Otherwise, I refuse to sign anything.” “Don’t push your luck, Dustin!” Lyra slammed her palm on the table, frustration oozing from her every pore. “With her resources, Ms. Nicholson can sever ties with you in an instant. She’s being gracious by letting you keep your dignity. Don’t provoke her!” “Dignity?” Dustin chuckled, a bleak sound devoid of humor. “What dignity lies in a woman who can’t bear to face me? If she truly valued what we had, why the threats?” “I’m afraid this is a conversation you can’t win,” Lyra said, her impatience boiling over. “It'll be better for you in the long run.” With unshed anger causing his heart to race, Dustin stood, turning to leave as the air thickened with unspoken words. “Dustin Rhys! You—” Before Lyra could finish, the door swung open, and in walked Dahlia Nicholson—a vision of elegance in a long black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her porcelain skin glistened under the office lights, and her features, perfectly sculpted, radiated power. “Dahlia,” Dustin said, his heart twisting as he felt a whirlwind of emotions course through him. They had once shared laughter, dreams, and tenderness in the very shadows of this office. Yet here they stood, straddling the chasm of their fading love. Apologetic, she sat down, her demeanor as unreadable as ever. “I’m sorry for being late. I was tied up with something important.” “Important?” he echoed, bitterness creeping into his tone. “You require your secretary to handle your divorce? Interesting priorities.” At the mention of Lyra, Dahlia’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, but she remained resolute, diving straight to the heart of the matter. “Let’s not waste time. We need to end this amicably. I hate to do this, but I’m offering you the car, the house, and eight million dollars as alimony. What do you say?” Dustin stared at the table as if it were a portal to a past filled with warmth and promise. “Do you really think our relationship can be reduced to a financial transaction?” “Too little?” Dahlia replied, her tone unchanged, “Just name your price. I’ll give you anything within my means.” “No, that’s not the point. What I want to know is: are money and power your only pursuits?” Dustin pressed, bewildered. Dahlia glanced out the window, her gaze fixed on the sprawling city below. “To me, Dustin, yes—those things matter greatly.” Determination held her posture tense. “You’ve amassed wealth enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life. Why continue this way?” “Because our philosophies diverge.” Dahlia's voice was steady, laced with disappointment. “You’ll never grasp my desires.” “Right, how could I?” Dustin let out a dry laugh that did little to mask his pain. “I’ve devoted my life to cooking for you, to warming your coat, to being there when you were sick. But that clearly wasn’t enough.” “There’s no point in delving into this now,” she replied, her facade cracking slightly before solidifying once more. “Quite right.” He nodded, an empty expression contorted on his face. “I’ve heard whispers about you and the heir of the Nolan family. Is that why?” Dahlia hesitated, weighing her words. Finally, she nodded. “Yes, you could say that.” “Then I genuinely hope you find happiness with him.” A hollow smile crept across Dustin's face as he signed the divorce agreement, a curtain drawn on their shared dreams. Irony dripped from the moment—today was not just any day; it marked their anniversary, a cruel joke written by fate. “I don’t want the money,” he said, his voice steady. “Just return the crystal necklace my mother left me. It was meant for my wife.” “Of course,” Dahlia replied, a flicker of something unnameable crossing her face as she handed it over. “From this day forward, we are strangers,” he declared, fastening the necklace around his neck, each delicate facet glinting like a memory now overshadowed with distance. With one last lingering look, Dustin turned and walked away, his heart an empty vessel, the warmth of love supplanted by a perceptible chill. As he stepped out into the world, Dahlia's heart stumbled, an indistinct lack swelling within her—an emptiness that clawed for acknowledgment. “Did I do the right thing, Lyra?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Absolutely!” Lyra insisted, her belief unwavering. “You have every right to chase happiness. Dustin couldn’t possibly bring you the future you deserve! You’re destined to be the most powerful woman in Swinton!” But as Dahlia watched Dustin depart, a part of her whispered otherwise—a trepidation buried beneath layers of resolve, hinting at the price of ambition and the unbearable weight of choice.