The courthouse was colder than Maya expected.
Maybe it was the marble floors.
Maybe it was the sharp echo of heels tapping from distant hallways.
Maybe it was the weight of the decision she was about to sign.
Or maybe…
it was because Evan wasn't here.
He was supposed to be.
It was his marriage too.
His signature mattered.
His presence mattered.
But the man who could walk out of a wedding with another woman clearly didn't have enough spine to show up for a divorce.
Fine.
She didn't need him.
Maya held her chin high as she stepped through the grand double doors. Her simple black dress hugged her waist beautifully—nothing fancy, nothing bridal, nothing soft. It was her statement:
I'm not your bride anymore.
Waiting at the center of the hall was Julian Hartfield.
Her ex–brother-in-law.
CEO of a multinational empire.
A man rumored to be colder than winter steel and richer than entire countries.
Yet when he saw her approaching… something softened in his expression.
"Maya," he said, voice low, steady, grounding. "You look ready."
"I am."
He studied her for a moment—deeply, intently, like he needed to confirm she wasn't trembling beneath her strength.
"You didn't sleep last night," he said quietly.
"You could tell?"
"I can tell everything," he said, almost too softly.
Her breath hitched.
"Let's get this over with," she whispered.
"Before we start," he added, stepping closer, lowering his voice, "I need you to prepare yourself."
"For what?"
"For the fact that my brother is not the only one watching."
Her brows knit. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Julian said, his jaw tightening, "the media is outside."
"What?" She froze. "Julian—why didn't you tell me?"
"If I told you earlier, you would have panicked."
"I'm panicking now!"
"No," he said calmly, "you're reacting. But you won't panic. You're stronger than that."
Her heartbeat thudded painfully against her ribs.
Outside?
Press?
Cameras?
Headlines?
"Julian… I can't do this in front of—"
He gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Maya."
She looked up.
"You didn't do anything wrong," he said firmly. "You're not the scandal. My brother is. And you have nothing to hide."
Her breath steadied.
"You're not walking out there alone," he said.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You're coming with me?"
"Of course I am."
Something warm bloomed in her chest—a quiet, unexpected comfort.
"Let's sign the papers first," he said. "After that, I'll handle everything outside."
She nodded, and together they walked toward the private office.
The lawyer stood up when they entered. "Ms. Rowan. Mr. Hartfield. Please, have a seat."
Maya sat. Her hands trembled just a little, but she hid them beneath the table.
The divorce documents lay in front of her like a silent reminder of everything she had lived for the past four years. Four years of dating. One year of engagement. One day of disaster.
Julian remained standing beside her, tall and unmovable, like a wall built to protect.
The lawyer cleared his throat. "We have Evan Hartfield's signed copy. He sent it overnight."
Maya looked up sharply. "He already signed?"
"Yes," the lawyer confirmed. "He didn't contest anything."
Her chest tightened.
He didn't even care enough to fight?
To argue?
To ask why?
To try?
He signed her away like she meant nothing.
Julian, sensing the shift in her emotions, stepped closer to her chair. His presence wasn't touch, but it felt like one—warming, steadying.
"Maya," the lawyer continued gently, "all that remains is your signature."
Her throat tightened.
Her hand hovered over the pen.
This was it.
The real ending.
She inhaled slowly.
And then she signed—one elegant stroke at a time.
The moment the pen left the paper, her heart felt both heavier and strangely lighter. A chapter had closed. Forever.
The lawyer stamped the document. "The divorce is legally complete."
Maya exhaled shakily.
She was free.
Julian placed a hand on the back of her chair, his touch not quite touching her but close enough to ground her.
"You did it," he said quietly.
She looked up at him. "So… what happens now?"
"Now," Julian said, "you walk out of this courthouse with your head held high."
She swallowed. "Even with the press out there?"
"Especially with the press out there."
He extended his hand to her.
Maya hesitated.
Not because she didn't trust him.
But because she wasn't used to anyone catching her after a fall.
But she did something she hadn't done in days—
she took his hand.
His fingers wrapped around hers with steady confidence.
They walked out together.
And the moment the courthouse doors swung open, chaos exploded.
Flashes.
Voices.
Cameras.
Questions flying like bullets.
"Ms. Rowan, how do you feel?"
"Did your husband cheat on you?"
"Is the mistress pregnant?"
"Are you and Julian Hartfield together?"
"Are you seeking revenge?"
"Is this the end of the Hartfield dynasty?"
Maya froze.
The wall of noise was overwhelming—blinding, choking, endless.
Julian reached back and placed his hand at the small of her back—firm, guiding, protective. The world felt less terrifying instantly.
"Stay close to me," he murmured.
She didn't let go of his hand.
Julian stepped forward, his presence commanding immediate silence. Reporters instinctively backed up. His aura was clean power—sharp, intimidating, billionaire-controlled authority.
He spoke calmly into the sea of microphones:
"Maya Rowan is no longer married to my brother. She left him with dignity and strength. She is not responsible for his actions. She is not at fault. Anyone who harasses, threatens, or slanders her will answer directly to me."
The crowd erupted again—but with shock, not questions.
Julian tilted his head slightly toward her. "Let's go."
With their fingers still intertwined, they walked together toward the waiting black Maybach.
Inside the car, the doors shut, sealing away the noise.
Maya collapsed back against the seat, her breath shaky. "I… I wasn't ready for that."
"I know," Julian said. "But you handled it."
"Only because you were there."
Julian turned to her, his eyes taking her in—slowly, intensely.
"Maya," he said quietly, "I'm not going anywhere."
Her heartbeat faltered.
"Why?" she whispered.
Julian leaned closer, his voice dropping to something dark, dangerous, and honest.
"Because I don't protect people," he said. "I only protect what belongs to me."
Her breath caught.
"What… what does that mean?"
Julian looked away, forcing his voice back into control.
"It means," he said, "you're not alone anymore. And whatever Evan tries next… he won't reach you."
A silence settled between them—deep, heavy, magnetic.
Then the driver asked, "Sir, where to?"
Julian looked at her.
"Home," Maya whispered.
Julian shook his head.
"No," he said softly. "Not today."
"Then where?"
Julian's eyes locked on hers, unblinking.
"With me."
Her breath hitched again.
Today she lost a husband.
But she gained something far more dangerous—
the full attention of a billionaire who never chose anyone…
until now.