Chapter Four: What Am I Still Hoping For?
Elara’s POV
I pulled over and sat in the car, staring for a long time at my conversation with the lawyer on my phone.
The last message remained on the screen.
To be honest, even I did not know when I had begun seriously considering divorce.
I had been secretly in love with Austin for ten years. I had never imagined I would actually marry him one day. So when our families arranged the marriage, it had felt like a dream.
But once I woke up, I realized something.
Marrying someone did not mean you could make him stay.
I closed my eyes.
Buried memories forced their way into my mind. It felt as if I had fallen into a freezing lake, the weightlessness dragging me deeper, cold and suffocating.
Three years ago, I had married him full of joy. Less than six months later, he cheated on me.
Perhaps it had started even earlier.
Although I had spent the past two years abroad, photos of him with other women kept appearing in my inbox from unknown senders.
Until today, I had believed he could no longer affect me. But when I saw him take another woman to the apartment he had given me before our wedding, I discovered that my heart could still ache.
Lucy was not the first, and she certainly would not be the last.
How ridiculous.
What was I still hoping for?
Just then, my phone vibrated.
I looked down and saw a message from Austin’s assistant.
“Mrs. Thorn, Mr. Thorn would like you to come to Thorn Group at three this afternoon to discuss the Gulf project.”
I stared at the message for two seconds.
The Gulf project was the test my father had given me, as well as my most important bargaining chip in the fight for succession.
I answered without hesitation.
“All right.”
I put down my phone and stepped on the gas.
No matter where this marriage ended, I had to secure control of Richter Group.
At three that afternoon, I arrived at Thorn Group.
The moment I entered the building, someone from reception came forward to greet me.
“Mrs. Thorn, Mr. Thorn is already waiting for you.”
I nodded and took the CEO’s private elevator straight to the top floor.
The office door was open, so I pushed it wider and walked in.
Austin stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled to his elbows, and he held a cup of coffee.
At the sound of my footsteps, he turned around.
“You’re here.”
“Yes.”
I set the documents on the desk.
“Let’s get straight to business.”
He did not move. Instead, he gestured toward the seat beside him.
“Coffee first? The Brazilian beans are excellent.”
I glanced over.
A set of manual coffee equipment stood on the desk, with freshly ground beans beside it.
Brazilian coffee.
Lucy’s favorite.
Apparently, Austin brought her here often enough.
I looked away.
“No, thank you.”
“What’s wrong?” He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you like it?”
I sat down and opened the file.
“I prefer plain water. It’s clean.”
Silence fell for two seconds.
Then Austin laughed softly.
“I think lemonade would suit you better.”
I frowned. “Why?”
The smile on his lips faltered for an instant.
Then he abruptly leaned closer.
“Because you sound so sour, I assumed you’d just drunk a whole glass of it.”
The distance between us vanished. I caught the faint woody fragrance on him. I had no idea which woman had chosen that cologne for him, but my treacherous heart still skipped a beat.
I leaned back.
“Austin.”
“Yes?”
I looked at him solemnly.
“For the next three months, keep yourself under control. I have a bad temper, so don’t parade those women in front of me.”
“Once we’re divorced, you can strip naked and have sex with another woman right in front of me, and it still won’t be any of my business.”
A loud crash came from outside the office.
Frowning, I turned toward the door.
The next moment, it flew open amid a startled cry.
“What did you just say?”
A young woman stood in the doorway, her eyes wide.
It was Silvia Richter.
Austin’s younger sister.
She stared at me in disbelief, her voice almost cracking.
“Elara! After everything you’ve done, how dare you bring up divorce?”
I froze, unable to understand what she meant.
Silvia stormed inside and pointed a finger in my face.
“If my brother hadn’t buried all that dirt on you, you would be—”
“Silvia,” Austin interrupted.
His voice turned cold.
“Get out.”
She was clearly unwilling to let it go.
“Austin, even after what she did, you’re still—”
“I said get out.”
His repeated command was chilling.
The office went completely silent.
Silvia bit her lip and glared at me. There was anger in her eyes, along with a hurt I could not understand.
In the end, she turned and left.
The door closed again.
I looked at Austin.
“What was she talking about? What dirt did you bury?”
Austin walked around the desk and sat opposite me, his tone indifferent.
“It was nothing.”
“She said you suppressed damaging information about me.”
“You misheard her.”
“Austin.” I held his gaze. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”
He did not answer.
He merely pushed the documents toward me and tapped them lightly with one finger.
“Let’s discuss the project.”
I knew he did not want to tell me, so I stopped asking.
I had more important matters to handle.
Over the next hour, we dissected almost every aspect of the project: investment ratios and liability, land costs and future operations, profit distribution and decision-making authority.
Neither of us yielded an inch.
Whenever I gained something, he reclaimed ground elsewhere. When I reduced his share of the investment, he demanded greater operational control. When I fought for leadership of the project, he raised the profit percentage he wanted.
By the end, we still had not reached an agreement.
Austin closed the file and looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
“If you want a share of my profits, you’ll have to show some sincerity.”
My fingers tightened. I drew a deep breath.
“Richter will take only thirty percent of the total profit.”
That was my final limit.
Austin studied me in silence for a long time.
Then his lips curved into something that was not quite a smile, and mockery flashed in his eyes.
“You were born an heiress, yet you work like the family’s hired muscle.”
My body stiffened.
He leaned back in his chair, speaking as casually as if the matter had nothing to do with him.
“Just like your mother.”
It felt as though something had slammed into my chest.
My expression slowly turned cold.
I could tolerate him mocking me. I could even accept him dismissing my abilities.
But I would not tolerate him insulting my mother.
Especially not in that careless tone.
My fingers curled into fists.
“Say that again.”
He seemed to realize what he had done. His face stiffened, and his lips parted slightly.
But I was already on my feet.
“You had better remember this, Austin.”
“I am sitting here today as a representative of Richter Group, negotiating a project with you.”
“Not as your wife.”
“And certainly not as someone whose mother you can ridicule for your amusement.”
The only sound in the office was the hum of the air conditioner.
He looked at me. For the first time, there was no laughter in his eyes. Something else had taken its place, an emotion I could not decipher.
At that moment, my phone rang.
The call came from an unfamiliar number.
I did not want to answer, but it kept ringing. Frowning, I finally accepted the call.
An anxious voice immediately came through the line.
“Hello. Are you a relative of Lucas?”
My eyelid twitched.
“Yes.”
“Mr. Lucas was just involved in a car accident. He’s at the hospital now. Please come as soon as possible.”
I barely heard what came next.
Grabbing my bag, I hurried toward the door.
“Elara,” Austin called after me.
I did not look back.
It was not until the elevator doors closed that I realized my hands were still trembling.
Lucas!
Please be all right.
My car shot out of the underground garage.
At the third intersection, I glanced into the rearview mirror and saw a familiar black car following me.
I knew the license plate all too well.
It was Austin’s car.
My heart suddenly beat faster, and my fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
Why was he following me?
Could it be...
