Chapter One Hundred And Forty

Chapter One Hundred And Forty
Killian’s POV

The flowers dropped from my hand before I even realized it. Their petals scattered across the marble floor, crushed beneath my shoes as I stumbled forward.

Serena’s scent still lingered, sweet, calm, and painfully familiar. But she is gone now. Again.

Gone.....and holding his hand.

Adrien.

I wanted to hate the name, but I couldn’t even form the emotion properly. My chest felt like it had caved in, leaving a hollow space where my heart used to beat.

The elevator doors had barely shut, yet the sound kept replaying in my head. That soft ding, followed by her fading perfume.

And Theodore’s voice...

“Mom, please don’t go!”

My son’s voice.

Those words cut deeper than any rejection she’d ever given me. Because this time, it wasn’t just her walking away, it was them.

My family.

I tried to move, but my knees weakened. My hand clutched at the wall for support as a wave of nausea and regret hit me all at once. People were watching, employees, secretaries, investors, I didn’t care. My world had just collapsed in front of them, and all I could think of was how stupid I had been.

How cruel I had been.

How blind I had been.

I dragged myself to one of the empty benches in the lobby and sat down, staring blankly at the floor. The flowers lay a few feet away, ruined. The security guard tried to pick them up, but I snapped, my voice hoarse.

“Leave it.”

He froze immediately and walked away.

I rubbed my hands across my face. “What have I done?” I whispered under my breath.

Images flooded my mind, the night of the argument, Serena’s terrified expression, my raised voice, her tears, the shock in her eyes when I’d cornered her that night.

“No...no,” I muttered, shaking my head violently. I didn’t mean to...

But I did.

Even if I hadn’t touched her, even if I stopped myself that night, the intent was there. The anger, the desperation, the loss of control.... it had all been there.

And now she looked at me like I was a monster.

Maybe I was.

I leaned back against the cold glass wall, staring at the ceiling. Everything I built, every empire, every investment, every speech about control and success, none of it meant anything now. I could feel my composure slipping with every breath.

“Sir?” a familiar voice approached hesitantly. It was Daniel, my personal assistant. “Are you...are you all right?”

I looked at him, and the words that came out of my mouth didn’t sound like mine.

“She left.”

His expression changed. “Ma’am Serena?”

I nodded weakly. “With him. Adrien.”

Mark sighed quietly, unsure of how to respond.

“They looked happy,” I continued bitterly, almost laughing. “She smiled at him. You should’ve seen it, Daniel. She smiled like she used to, when we first met. And he looked at her like she was everything.”

Daniel stood in silence, his expression softening. “Sir, maybe you should go home. Rest.”

“Home?” I laughed dryly. “There’s no home anymore. Just a house full of memories and...”

He hesitated, then placed a folder beside me. Theodore’s school called this morning. They said his placement test went well. He’s doing fine without.... Serena.

Hearing my son’s name twisted something sharp inside me. I clenched my jaw and nodded. “That’s good.” My voice cracked. “He deserves better than the father he got.”

Daniel didn’t respond, and I didn’t blame him. What could he possibly say?

I looked toward the elevator again. The doors had closed long ago, but my gaze remained fixed, as if staring hard enough could bring her back.

“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” I asked quietly.

Daniel shifted uneasily. Sir...forgiveness isn’t something you can force. Maybe time.

“I don’t have time,” I cut in, voice trembling. “I had time, Daniel. And I wasted all of it.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

My hands began to shake. I pressed them together to steady myself, but the trembling only worsened. I could feel it, the beginning of an emotional collapse I’d been holding off for months.

All the arrogance. All the pride. All the pretending.

It was gone.

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, burying my face in my hands. A raw, guttural sound escaped me before I could stop it. It wasn’t the composed Killian people knew, the powerful CEO, the man with answers to everything.

It was just me. A broken man.

I don’t know how long I stayed like that. Minutes. Hours, maybe. The world blurred into meaningless noise. People came and went, whispering, staring, but I didn’t care.

Finally, I stood, picking up the crushed flowers from the floor. One by one, the petals fell from my grasp.

“They were for her,” I murmured, staring at the last petal that clung stubbornly to the stem. “I just wanted to say I was sorry.”

I looked up at my reflection in the mirrored elevator doors, disheveled, pale, lost.

“She’ll never believe me,” I whispered to them. “And she shouldn’t.”

The elevator doors opened again, empty this time. The sound pierced through the numbness, reminding me of earlier, of her soft gasp when she saw me, of the disgust in her eyes.

I strode towards the garage and slid into my car.

As the doors closed, I swore I could still hear Theodore’s small voice echoing faintly.

“Mom, please don’t go.”

My throat tightened. “I’m sorry, son,” I whispered. “I made you yearn for her.”

I leaned into the car, unsure whether to remain there or start the engine. Every breath I took was heavy with regret.

But then I gathered myself together and drove straight ahead.

When I reached my house, I went straight to the study and stared outside the window watching the city below.

I’d built this empire for them, for her and Theodore. But in the process, I’d destroyed the very people I claimed to love.

Now all I had left was the view.

And silence.

I sank into my chair, gripping the edge of the desk. My fingers brushed over the photo frame that still sat there, Serena’s laughter frozen in time, Theodore’s chubby hands wrapped around mine.

My vision blurred.

“I don’t deserve to miss you,” I said to the photo. “But I do. Every damn day.”

The words hung in the air, unanswered.

Outside, the sky darkened.

Inside, I broke, quietly, completely.