Chapter 8
Julian didn’t remember the last time he’d lost sleep over anything. Not contracts, not competitors, not even death threats during high-stakes negotiations. But these days, his nights stretched into long hours of staring at the ceiling, mind racing, unable to stop thinking about Katherine.
The headlines were everywhere. Nash Group was under pressure. Investors were asking questions, and board members were whispering behind closed doors. All of it traced back to one mistake—his silence.
His father had built the company from the ground up, and Julian had spent years perfecting it. But now, even the image he’d worked so hard to maintain was cracking. And the worst part? He didn’t care as much as he thought he would.
Because the only thing that haunted him was the look in Katherine’s eyes the last time they spoke—calm, empty, final.
He didn’t know how she’d found out the truth about Eloise’s plan, but he suspected it didn’t matter anymore. The damage had already been done.
He kept hearing her voice in his head—soft but firm—“Let’s get a divorce.”
He used to think she was the weak one. Always following him around. Always waiting for a word, a glance, a crumb of affection.
But now?
Now she was out there thriving while his life fell apart one silent crack at a time.
He pulled out his phone more times than he could count, typing her name into the search bar. He saw photos of her at galas, on panels, standing beside powerful names and smiling like she belonged there.
Because she did.
She had always belonged in a spotlight—he just never let her stand in it.
One night, after another failed board meeting, Julian sat in his car for almost an hour, gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. The city lights blurred behind his windshield, and he didn’t even realize it had started raining until the droplets blurred the dashboard.
For the first time, he wondered: What if I had just loved her the way she deserved?
But that thought was like poison—because he knew the answer.
She wouldn’t have left.
She wouldn’t have cried herself to sleep in a stranger’s bed.
She wouldn’t have become a ghost in her own marriage.
But he hadn’t done that. He hadn’t protected her.
And now she was gone.