Divorcing The Tycoon: The Genius Designer

Aletha walked aimlessly through the streets of Chelsea, letting the harsh wind dry the wetness on her cheeks.

The phone in her pocket started vibrating aggressively. The screen flashed with Kristopher's name.

Her fingers trembled as she pressed the answer button and brought the phone to her ear.

"Listen to me very carefully," Kristopher's voice came through the speaker, cold and absolute. "You are not to appear within a five-mile radius of Dinah ever again."

Aletha closed her eyes, the street noise fading away.

"I cherish her too much," Kristopher continued, his tone brutally honest. "I can't even bear to touch a single hair on her head. I won't let your toxic jealousy ruin her peace."

Those words acted like a physical blade, twisting into Aletha's chest and shredding the very last, pathetic shred of hope she held for this marriage.

She didn't say a single word. She pulled the phone away, ended the call, and immediately blocked his number.

She looked up and realized she was standing on the corner near the Chelsea Art Gallery. This was the venue where Sloane was hosting the new exhibition.

Aletha pushed open the heavy glass doors. The little brass bell chimed brightly. The warm air and the smell of oil paint and expensive perfume rushed over her.

She took off her trench coat, walked straight to a passing waiter, grabbed a flute of champagne from his tray, and downed it in one gulp.

The alcohol burned a fiery path down her throat, but it did nothing to melt the block of ice sitting in her stomach.

A tall figure suddenly stepped into her line of sight, blocking the crowd. The familiar, comforting scent of cedarwood and clean linen washed over her.

She looked up and met Julian's amber eyes. The usual calm, collected demeanor of the Wall Street prodigy shattered the second he looked at her face.

Julian reached out and gently pried the empty glass from her tight grip. His brows pulled together in a deep frown.

"Why are you so pale?" he asked, his voice tight with worry.

Aletha tried to force the corners of her mouth up into a polite smile, but the moment she met her childhood friend's gaze, her defenses completely collapsed.

Julian didn't say another word. He wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders, shielding her from the crowd, and guided her up the stairs to the private VIP balcony on the second floor.

The cold wind whipped across the open terrace. Julian stripped off his custom suit jacket and draped it over Aletha's shivering shoulders.

Aletha leaned heavily against the metal railing. She stared down at the blurry headlights of the traffic below, and a broken sob finally tore from her throat.

She cried until her chest ached. Between ragged breaths, she poured out the suffocating toxicity of her three-year loveless marriage. She told him about the humiliation, the coldness, the feeling of being nothing but a disposable shadow.

She kept her secret-she didn't tell him she was Lan-but she gave him all the pain of being Kristopher's wife.

Julian gripped the metal railing. His knuckles turned stark white. The veins on the back of his hands bulged, and a terrifying, murderous rage boiled in his amber eyes.

He spun around and grabbed Aletha by the shoulders, forcing her to look up at him.

"Say the word," Julian said, his voice shaking with fierce determination. "Just nod your head, Aletha, and I will take you away from him today. Right now."

Aletha offered a bitter, broken smile. She slowly shook her head.

"I can't. The prenuptial agreement... the penalty clauses. My family is tied into his trust. I can't just walk away without destroying everything."

Julian cursed viciously under his breath, calling Kristopher a blind, arrogant tyrant.

He pulled Aletha into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her. His large hand rubbed soothing circles on her back, offering her the first genuine warmth she had felt in years.

Aletha closed her eyes, letting her tense muscles finally relax in a space where she didn't have to fight to survive.

Suddenly, a loud commotion erupted from the main exhibition hall downstairs, shattering the quiet moment on the balcony.

Julian released her slightly. His eyes narrowed, instantly shifting into a defensive glare as he looked toward the top of the stairs. He sensed the danger immediately.

Aletha wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She took a deep, steadying breath, locking her emotions back behind a wall of ice, ready to face whatever storm was coming.