Severing Ties

Aria pushed through the heavy glass doors of the hospital lobby, stepping out into the fading light. She let the stifling scent of clinical antiseptic and sickness give way to the crisp evening air. Her heels clicked rhythmically against the concrete pavement, carrying her away from the sterile nightmare she had just endured. The quiet lasted only a fraction of a second before her phone began vibrating against the fabric of her coat pocket. She pulled it out and glanced at the glaring screen. Helena's name flashed across the display, demanding immediate attention. Aria let it ring. She watched the screen go dark, only for it to light up again. Helena would never give up.

Aria swiped the green icon and brought the phone to her ear.

"Aria, the Thorne family is yanking their investment! Every single partnership is getting axed. Are you satisfied now? Have you even considered the fallout? What about the tens of thousands of people at Vance Group? Do they not have families to feed?" Helena's venomous shriek tore through the speaker, offloading the corporate crisis onto her daughter's shoulders.

Aria tightened her grip on the device, her knuckles turning white. Her mother's wild, cutting insults were standard procedure by now. She knew if she argued, Helena would drag this out into days of nonstop misery, laying guilt trip after guilt trip. Aria stayed silent, absorbing the blame with a heavy, sinking heart. She felt the weight of her family's century-old legacy pressing down on her spine.

"If they are bailing, fine. I will figure out the money somehow, Mom. I will fix it. Talk later." Aria spoke into the receiver, her voice steady, before quickly hanging up.

She stood on the sidewalk, watching the passing traffic blur into streaks of yellow and red light. Dorian was pulling the funds at lightning speed to corner her into a desperate choice. He was weaponizing the Thorne Group's capital to force her into submission. The realization felt like a jagged knife twisting deep in her chest. For a man she had once held so dear, his cruelty was breathtaking. He wanted her to crawl back to him, broken and desperate, begging for scraps of his mercy.

Aria took a slow, grounding breath. The initial dull pain faded, replaced by an icy, pragmatic resolve. She unlocked her phone and dialed her real estate agent.

"I need to fast-track the apartment sale. The price is not the priority right now. I need the cash in my account as soon as possible." Aria delivered the instruction with a sharp, no-nonsense tone.

The agent on the other end scrambled to confirm the details, mentioning that several viewers from earlier that day were eager to make offers. Aria told them she would select a buyer tonight and handle the paperwork in the morning. She needed the title transferred immediately. The luxury apartment was legally in her name, but she had zero intention of keeping the proceeds for herself. Half of that money belonged to Dorian. She intended to wire him his exact share the second the funds hit her account. Severing their financial ties was the final step to buying her freedom.

After ending the call, Aria hailed a cab. The ride back to the luxury apartment was a blur of neon city lights and shadowed streets. With the sale already in motion, there was no point in lingering in this city any longer than necessary. She had packed all her belongings into cardboard boxes the night before, stripping the home of everything that made it theirs. All she needed to do was arrange for movers to haul her boxes away, and she would be gone for good. She expected to walk into an empty, echoing space, a clean slate.

Aria unlocked the front door and pushed it open. She froze in the entryway.

Dorian was standing right there in the middle of the living room.

Aria stared at his right hand. He was clutching a small, pristine pink suitcase. It belonged to Nadia. Aria assumed he would still be at the hospital coddling his precious patient, yet here he was, fetching her things like an obedient servant.

Dorian looked just as surprised to see her standing there. His expectant gaze swept over her, then darted around the sprawling living room. His expression darkened into a heavy scowl as he processed the scene. The walls were bare. The display shelves were stripped. All their shared photos, the expensive trinkets they had collected over the years, and every trace of her personal belongings were missing. The physical evidence of her presence in this home had been erased.

"Why is everything cleared out like this?" Dorian demanded loudly.

His irritation mounted with every passing second. At his core, his massive ego refused to believe she was truly walking away. He assumed this dramatic packing routine was just an elaborate cat-and-mouse game designed to win back his affection and attention. She had loved him too fiercely for too long to just walk out without a fight.

"They were outdated. I tossed them." Aria answered flatly, her voice devoid of any warmth or hesitation.

Dorian stepped forward, his expensive leather shoes thudding against the polished hardwood floor. He scowled deeply, staring her down from his imposing height. He believed she was bluffing. He figured the Vance family would crumble without his financial backing, and she had returned to the apartment to cave, cry, and beg for his help. He decided to offer her a generous lifeline, a chance to redeem herself.

"Aria, do you have nothing you want to say to me?" Dorian crossed his arms over his chest, his tone dripping with arrogant condescension.

He waited for the tears. He expected the inevitable breakdown where she would apologize for her defiance and plead for his money to save her mother's collapsing company.

"Nope." Aria replied, her tone deadpan, her eyes blank.

She saw no point in hashing anything out with a man who lived in his own twisted reality. There was nothing left to salvage, no argument left to win.

Dorian's face went rigid with shock. He was baffled by her stubborn refusal to yield. She was not taking the bait. The obedient, desperate Aria he knew would have leaped at this opening with pathetic gratitude. Instead, she stood there like a stranger, radiating pure indifference.

Aria watched his humiliated fury brewing beneath the surface. She offered a gentle, dismissive nudge to hurry him out of her sight.

"Shouldn't you be heading back to the hospital? Go on, I do not want your little darling flaring up again because you are missing in action." Aria taunted smoothly, her gaze flicking to the pink suitcase in his grip.

Dorian stiffened. The sting of her words hit his fragile pride, flushing his neck with heat.

"I already told you, Nadia and I are strictly platonic. What is with the snarky digs?" Dorian snapped back, missing the point of her mockery.

Aria mentally facepalmed at his thick-headedness. Defending Nadia was his reflex, his ingrained habit, and she was too exhausted to care anymore. His excuses meant nothing to her now. She brushed right past him, her shoulder almost grazing his arm, and aimed for the staircase that led to the second floor.

"Aria." Dorian called her name sharply, his voice echoing in the barren room.

She halted on the first step, placing a hand on the cold metal railing, but did not turn around to face him.

Dorian dialed back his aggressive tone. He realized his intimidation tactics were failing. He tried a different angle, softening his voice into something resembling reason and compromise.

"Look, I get that I have sidelined you over and over for Nadia. Let us carve out some time to really talk this through. I..." Dorian began.

A sharp ringtone sliced through the heavy silence in the apartment.

Dorian fished his phone from his coat pocket. He glanced at the illuminated screen and answered it without missing a single beat.

"Nadia, are you okay? Alright, I am heading over now. Hang tight." Dorian spoke, his voice instantly dropping from frustrated tension to a velvety, comforting register.

A wry, self-deprecating smile crept onto Aria's face as she stood on the stairs. It was the same predictable routine. Every single time Nadia cropped up, Dorian dropped everything. He invalidated his own attempts at an apology in the blink of an eye. His ingrained habit of prioritizing Nadia sabotaged any chance of reconciliation he thought he had. Numb to the tired, pathetic reality of their relationship, Aria coolly averted her eyes and continued climbing the stairs, leaving him behind.

Dorian stepped away, pacing toward the front door. He wanted to keep Aria from overhearing the rest of the intimate chat. He hoped to avoid triggering another jealous spat while he placated Nadia's manufactured panic. He spoke in hushed, soothing tones, assuring Nadia he had her pink suitcase and was on his way back to the hospital ward.

Once he had calmed Nadia down, Dorian ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. He pivoted back around, expecting to pick up his grand apology right where they had left off. He was ready to generously grant Aria the conversation she supposedly craved.

But the space behind him was bare.

He stared at the empty staircase. There was no sign of her anywhere. The crushing realization that she had just walked away while he was on the phone hit him like a physical blow. A wave of humiliated anger flared across his handsome features, turning his skin pale. His jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek.

He huffed out a harsh breath, grabbed the front door handle, and stormed out of the apartment in a blind rage.