Chapter 248
"I'll let you go. And I'll make sure you leave with your head held high—with full compensation from the York Group. But until that day comes—"
His gaze turned razor-sharp, edged with something unhinged.
"You stay put in the York family. You don't go anywhere. Don't even think about divorce. Otherwise, I can't promise what I'll do."
He released her wrist, refusing to look at her face as the color drained from it completely. His hands found the wheels of his chair, and he turned away, leaving the conference room without a backward glance.
Katniss stood alone in the wreckage of the meeting room, frozen among scattered papers.
She closed her eyes. A bitter laugh almost escaped her throat.
Cedric had used this to threaten her—and she didn't even know what Gideon and Alvin were actually discussing.
And Gideon—who was he, really?
After a few dazed seconds, she looked down at her wrist. A ring of purple-blue fingerprints bloomed across her skin, the dull sting a reminder that everything that had just happened was real.
How absurd.
She hadn't done a single thing wrong, yet she'd been interrogated like a traitor. Her heart was already dead and cold, and still she'd been stripped of even the freedom to leave.
When had this marriage become a prison? When had Cedric become this unrecognizable stranger again?
Or had he always been this way, and she'd simply refused to see it?
Katniss walked slowly to the conference table and bent to pick up the scattered folders.
It was the marketing proposal she'd stayed up all night revising—every page dense with data annotations and notes, days of painstaking work.
Now those pages lay like her mood: trampled, scattered, coated in dust.
She picked them up mechanically, one by one. Stacked them neatly. Slid them into her bag. Then she grabbed her phone and glanced at the screen.
No new messages. Gideon hadn't reached out—probably because he was still meeting with Alvin.
A bitter, self-mocking smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
She didn't know anymore. Was Gideon genuinely trying to help her out of goodwill, or did he have his own agenda? Was his meeting with Alvin really what Cedric claimed—using her as a pawn?
Katniss lowered her gaze. The hand holding the papers trembled.
She'd thought that after years of navigating the corporate world, she'd developed sharp instincts for reading people. Yet in the end, she couldn't even see clearly the people closest to her.
She picked up her briefcase and walked out of the conference room.
The hallway was silent. The executives had scattered long ago—no one dared approach her at a time like this.
Only the young receptionist spotted her from a distance, called out a timid "Katniss," then quickly ducked her head, pretending to be busy.
Katniss gave a slight nod and walked straight to the elevator.
---
When she arrived back at Cedar Grove Villa, the house was empty.
The servant greeted her cautiously, then disappeared to their tasks.
Clearly, Cedric hadn't returned yet.
She didn't care. She changed into loungewear, walked into the study, pulled open a drawer, and retrieved the divorce agreement she'd drafted long ago.
The papers lay quietly on the desk. Black ink on white paper. Every clause spelled out with precision.
During those months she'd spent helping Cedric through his recovery, she thought she'd never need this document again.
Yet here she was, right back where she started.
Katniss let out a soft scoff. She picked up a pen and signed her name on the signature line.
When she finished, she placed the agreement on the coffee table in the living room, weighed it down with the pen, then turned and went to the bedroom. She closed the door, threw herself onto the soft bed, and shut her eyes.
She didn't want to think about anything. She just wanted to sleep.
---
Cedric returned to the villa at eleven that night.
A single floor lamp cast dim amber light across the cream-colored carpet. Everything looked quiet and ordinary.
A servant took his coat and murmured that Katniss had barely touched her dinner before retreating to the bedroom.
He frowned but said nothing, steering his wheelchair into the living room.
Then he saw it—the document pinned beneath the pen on the coffee table.
Divorce Agreement.
The words hit him like a blow. He stopped the chair abruptly, staring at the papers. His pupils contracted. His breathing turned ragged.
He snatched up the agreement and flipped to the last page. There, in the signature line, Katniss's name—neat and unmistakable.
A surge of fury erupted from deep in his chest, scorching through him until every organ ached.
She actually still wanted a divorce.
"Katniss!"
The name tore from his throat in a low growl. The next second, he drove the wheelchair toward the bedroom and shoved the door open.
The room was dark. Only moonlight spilled through the window, outlining the curled figure on the bed.
The noise woke her instantly. She wasn't surprised. She sat up slowly and looked toward the figure in the doorway, his silhouette carved in silver light.
"What is it?"
"What is it?" Cedric repeated her words back, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. He hurled the agreement to the floor. "What the hell is this? Katniss—tell me. What is this?"
Pages scattered across the floor with a soft rustle.
Katniss glanced down at the mess of papers, then lifted her gaze back to him. Her eyes were calm as still water. "Can't you read? It's a divorce agreement. I already signed it."
"You're that desperate to leave?"
Cedric's eyes were bloodshot, veins pulsing at his temples. His voice came out raw, scraped from somewhere deep in his throat.
"Can't wait for me to recover? Or can't wait for Gideon to pave the way for you? Hm?"
Katniss's body went rigid for a fraction of a second—barely perceptible—but she recovered quickly. She pushed back the covers, stepped barefoot onto the cold floor, and walked to him.
She bent down and gathered the scattered pages one by one. Stacked them neatly. Smoothed the creased edges with her fingertips.
Then she looked down at him.
"Cedric."
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Between us—besides the suspicion, the hurt, the endless obligations and burdens—what's left?"
"You think I betrayed you. You think I have something going on with Gideon. Now you even suspect I'm selling out the company. I tell you I'm not—you don't believe me. I show you proof—you still don't believe me."
A hollow laugh escaped her.
"So what else can I do?"
She paused, her lashes lowering. "I'm done living like this. You must be exhausted too. Let's just let each other go."
Let each other go.
The words left her lips so softly—but the moment they did, a quiet ache pulsed through her chest.
Across from her, Cedric stared at her face, searching for even a flicker of reluctance.
He found none.
In the shadows, Katniss's lashes hung low, her expression as still and unreadable as always.
"No."
The word came from somewhere deep and wounded. His voice was hoarse, barely held together. The veins stood out on the backs of his hands where they gripped the armrests, white-knuckled.
"Katniss. I won't let go."