Chapter 2 HER LAST NAME
The courtroom doors closed behind me with a soft click.
I didn't look back. I couldn't.
If I had seen her face one more time, I would've broken.
Her voice still echoed in my head, calm but trembling.
"Yes, Your Honor."
Two simple words, and my whole world ended.
I told myself to keep walking, to act like the man everyone thought I was, cold, composed, unshaken.
But every step toward the exit felt heavier than the last.
Behind me, I could still hear the rustle of papers as she stayed seated, maybe hoping I'd turn around.
I didn't.
That was the cruelest part, leaving her there when all I wanted was to stay.
The flashing lights hit me the moment I stepped outside. Reporters shouted my name, cameras snapping from every angle.
"Mr. Robert! Did you really want the divorce?"
"Was it true your wife left you because of another man?"
"Will the Ice King finally date or get married again?"
I didn't answer. My driver opened the car door, and I slid in, shutting out the chaos.
For a second, the glass separated two worlds, the loud, greedy one outside, and the empty, quiet one inside me.
Lea's face appeared in my mind again. The way she looked when she signed her name on those papers, steady hands, but eyes full of hurt.
She thought I didn't care. She was wrong.
I cared too much. That's why I had to let her go.
The car moved through traffic, and I loosened my tie. The air felt suffocating. Every street we passed carried a memory, her laughter in the passenger seat, her hand reaching for mine at red lights, her voice humming along to old songs.
I closed my eyes, but the memories didn't stop.
Flashback.
It was a rainy night two years ago.
She was sitting on the kitchen counter in one of my shirts, the smell of her perfume filled every where, hair messy, smiling like she didn't know she was the reason I was breathing.
I had been working late, as always. When I finally came home, she was waiting with two mugs of hot chocolate.
"CEO of everything," she had teased, handing me one of the mugs. "Except sleep."
I laughed... I laughed really hard. Something I hadn't done in years before she came into my life.
She leaned her head against my chest. "Promise me one thing, George. No matter how busy you get, don't shut me out."
I had kissed the top of her head. "I promise."
I broke that promise long before she broke our marriage.
The driver's voice pulled me back to the present. "Sir, we're home."
Home.
The word didn't feel right anymore.
The mansion was quiet when I walked in. Too quiet. Her laughter used to fill the hallways. Now, there was nothing but the sound of my own footsteps.
Her things were gone. Every photo, every trace of her, packed away by the house staff before she came to collect them herself.
But on the living room shelf, I saw something they had missed, a framed picture of us from our anniversary. She was laughing, I was looking at her.
I picked it up, my thumb brushing over her smile.
"I'm sorry, Lea," I whispered, voice low. "You'll hate me for this, but one day, you'll understand."
I put the frame face down.
The moment I did, my phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number:
"She's out. You did the right thing. Don't contact her again."
My chest tightened. My fingers hovered over the screen before I deleted the text.
No one could ever know what that message meant, least of all her.
Because if she did, she would never forgive me.
Hours passed. I poured myself a drink, but it didn't help. The city lights outside blurred through the window, the same view we used to share after long days. She would curl up beside me, her head on my shoulder, saying the world looked softer from up here.
Now it just looked empty.
Lilly Chen had texted me earlier too, short, polite, distant.
"She's staying at her parents' villa. Don't worry about her."
I almost called back. Almost. But what would I say?
I'm sorry for breaking you to keep you safe?
No. She'd never believe me.
The night stretched on, and I ended up in my office. Her chair was still there, beside my desk. She used to sit there reading while I worked, legs tucked under her, asking questions about my contracts just to make conversation.
I smiled faintly at the memory. She used to say, "You hide behind paperwork, George. But I know you."
Maybe she didn't anymore.
I pulled open a drawer and took out the envelope I had hidden weeks ago, the one with her name on it. Inside was a letter I had written but never sent.
It said everything I couldn't tell her face to face.
That I loved her. That I was sorry.
That I only let her go because staying would destroy her.
I held the envelope for a long time before putting it back. She couldn't know yet. Not until the danger was gone.
Just past midnight, I went to the balcony. The rain had started again, soft and steady.
Somewhere across the city, I imagined her standing by a window too, maybe watching the same rain.
I whispered into the night, "I hope you're warm, Lea."
Thunder rolled, faint but deep.
And then, my phone buzzed again this time, not from an unknown number. It was my assistant.
"Sir, we have a problem. The people you warned about, they found her location."
My blood ran cold.
I straightened, every ounce of calm gone. "How?"
"We don't know yet. But they're moving."
I didn't wait to hear more. I grabbed my keys and headed for the door.
If they touched her, if she was hurt because of me. this divorce would mean nothing.
Because I would burn the whole world before I lost her for real.