Chapter 176
Chapter 176
The two of them stood side by side on the courthouse steps, watching people cross the plaza below. Neither broke the silence.
A long time passed before Arabella finally spoke. "It's over."
Cornelius glanced at her. "Yeah."
A thousand emotions churned inside Arabella's chest.
A feud spanning twenty years. Lives warped by greed and hatred. All of it had finally reached its end on an ordinary, unremarkable day.
---
One week later.
Arabella walked into Cornelius's office and placed a printed resignation letter on his desk.
Cornelius sat behind the desk, eyes on the letter. He didn't reach for it.
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze settling on her face. After a few seconds of silence, he asked, "You're sure about this?"
Arabella nodded. "The studio has a backlog of projects piling up. If I don't get back soon, I'll start losing clients."
Cornelius said nothing, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer, as if confirming she'd truly made up her mind.
Arabella met his gaze steadily.
Finally, Cornelius reached out and took the letter.
He didn't open it. He pulled open a drawer, placed it inside, and closed the drawer. Then he looked up at her.
"I'm keeping your desk."
Arabella blinked.
She hadn't expected that. Her lips parted, but nothing she thought to say felt quite right. In the end, she just smiled and nodded.
She turned toward the door, took two steps, then stopped and looked back. "Cornelius, thank you."
He leaned back in his chair, eyes on her, the corner of his mouth shifting almost imperceptibly. "Don't mention it."
Arabella turned away, opened the door, and walked out.
As she passed the white desk she'd occupied for less than two months, her step faltered. She reached out and touched the leaves of the small potted plant on the desktop.
The leaves were lush and green, trembling gently in the air-conditioned breeze, like a quiet goodbye.
She pulled her hand back, turned, and stepped into the elevator.
As the doors slid shut, she caught one last glimpse of the hallway through the narrowing gap.
Empty. No one passing by. The doors closed completely, and the elevator began its descent.
She leaned against the wall, looking down at her fingertips, where the warmth and texture of those green leaves still lingered.
She slipped her hand into her pocket and didn't look back.
---
Outside the Douglas Group, she got in her car, turned it around, and drove straight toward Elevate Design Studio.
When she pushed open the office door, she froze in the doorway.
The studio looked much the same as when she'd left—blueprints and files stacked on desks, sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, falling across all those familiar things.
One thing was different. Her desk had been wiped spotless. The computer screen was on. And beside it sat a new potted plant, its leaves lush and vibrant, glowing softly in the morning light.
Identical to the one Cornelius had placed on her desk at the Douglas Group.
She walked over, set her bag down, and touched the plant's leaves. Then she turned to Ethan, who was filling a glass of water nearby. "You bought this?"
Ethan strolled out with his cup, took a sip, and said casually, "Mr. Douglas had it sent over. Said your desk shouldn't be without a plant."
Arabella's fingers stilled on the leaves.
So Cornelius had known all along. The moment things wrapped up, she'd come back. He'd planned ahead.
She didn't say anything, but the curve at the corner of her mouth gave her away.
She nudged the plant toward the corner of her desk, adjusting it until it sat exactly where she wanted it. Then she sat down and turned on her computer.
Ethan stood in the doorway watching her go through the motions. His own smile was impossible to suppress. He cleared his throat. "Aria, welcome back!"
It had been a while since she'd heard that familiar nickname. A wave of warmth washed over Arabella. She looked up and smiled at him.
---
During the studio's first week back in full swing, Arabella threw herself into the backlogged projects.
She arrived at eight every morning and didn't leave until seven or eight at night. Lunch was usually takeout eaten at her desk. When things got really busy, she forgot to drink water.
Ethan noticed. He'd remind her to take a break now and then. She'd agree without looking up, her hands never stopping.
One afternoon, Arabella was refining the details on a design proposal when the wind chime on the door jingled.
She didn't look up, assuming Ethan was back with a delivery. "You're back?"
No answer.
Arabella raised her head. Cornelius stood in the doorway holding a paper bag, wearing a dark gray casual jacket. He didn't look like he'd come from the office.
"What are you doing here?"
Arabella set down her pen, caught off guard.
Cornelius walked in and placed the bag on her desk.
"I was in the neighborhood. Brought you a coffee."
He said it casually, as if he really had just been passing by.
Arabella glanced at the coffee cup inside the bag and couldn't help raising an eyebrow.
She didn't call him out. From the Douglas Group to her studio was at least a twenty-minute drive. It wasn't on the way to anywhere.
She picked up the coffee and took a sip. The temperature was perfect. Her favorite flavor.
"Thanks."
Cornelius didn't leave right away. He wandered around the studio, studying the design sketches pinned to the walls, then the model samples lined up on the bookshelf.
He ended up beside Arabella's computer, pointing at the blueprints on screen. "Is this a new project you guys took on?"
Arabella looked up, half-exasperated.
"Mr. Douglas, are you really that free?"
Cornelius turned to face her, his expression perfectly serious. "I happened to be in the area. Thought I'd scope out the working conditions of my next potential partner."
Arabella opened her mouth, then closed it. She had absolutely no comeback for that.
Cornelius stayed about twenty minutes, finished his coffee, said a quick goodbye to Arabella, and headed out.
Arabella watched his figure disappear through the door, then looked down at the empty cup on her desk. She shook her head and went back to drawing.
After that, Cornelius started showing up more and more often.
Sometimes he'd come by in the afternoon, same as always—two coffees in hand, drink his on the couch, then leave.
Other times there was no reason at all. He'd just walk in, make a loop around the studio, chat with Ethan in the hallway about industry trends for a couple of minutes, then go.
Ethan finally couldn't take it anymore.
The moment Cornelius left, Ethan carried his mug over to Arabella's desk, leaned against the edge, and spoke in a tone dripping with implication.