Chapter 3

The private civil registry Everett had reserved was quiet.

It was the perfect place to bury my past.

I walked into the registry office. Everett Sinclair was already waiting. He wore a dark, tailored suit, looking powerful, calm, and completely untouchable—the exact opposite of Connor.

Everett didn't waste time with empty greetings. He handed me a sleek, black folder.

"A prenuptial agreement," Everett said, his voice deep and steady.

I opened the folder.

It stated that Rhodes Heritage Design, my mother’s legacy, and all my future earnings belonged strictly to me. Everett wanted absolutely none of it.

I looked up at him. "Are you doing this just to help me get revenge?"

Everett stepped closer. His dark eyes locked onto mine, burning with an intense, quiet sincerity.

"I do not play games, Vivian," he said softly, his gaze holding me steady. "I am not marrying Connor Whitmore’s discarded wife. I am marrying the woman whose work I’ve trusted for years. I am simply waiting for you to be free."

My heart skipped a beat, a warm tremor shaking the hollow numbness in my chest. For seven years, Connor only saw my usefulness. Everett saw *me*.

We walked up to the registrar's desk, the reality of my new life finally settling into my bones.

By the time the registrar finished reviewing our documents, evening had settled over the city.

Just as the official prepared the final documents, my phone buzzed loudly in my purse.

Connor.

I took a deep breath and pressed answer.

I held it in my hand on speaker, letting the harsh noise pierce the quiet sanctuary of the room.

"The banquet is about to start. Where are you?" Connor's impatient voice echoed from the phone. "Get to the hotel right now. Paige is a mess. She needs you to check her speech before she goes on stage."

I looked at the registrar. Then I looked at Everett. He was watching me with quiet, protective intensity, his hand resting reassuringly near mine.

"Connor," I asked. My voice was terrifyingly calm. "Do you even know what day it is today?"

"Of course I know!" Connor snapped back. "It is the group's anniversary dinner! I am busy, Vivian. Stop being difficult and get over here."

He completely forgot.

Today was the exact day our thirty-day divorce cooling-off period ended and the decree officially became final.

But to him, it was just his company's big anniversary night, and he still expected me to run errands for his mistress.

"Are you ready, Ms. Rhodes?" the registrar asked gently.

I looked down at the phone. Connor was still demanding that I come fix his mistress's mistakes.

I looked up at Everett. He reached out and gently took my free hand. His grip was warm, solid, and real.

"I am ready," I said clearly.

Thud.

The official stamp hit the paper, sealing my escape.

I pressed the red button on my phone. The line went dead.

As of this exact second, I was officially Mrs. Vivian Sinclair.

Everett slid a brilliant, perfectly fitted diamond ring onto my bare finger. It didn't feel like a heavy cage; it felt like a shield.

"Let's go," Everett said softly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "It is time for dinner."

---

Meanwhile, at the Whitmore Grand Hotel.

The ballroom was packed with investors invited for the Whitmore Grand expansion announcement.

Connor stood proudly on the brightly lit stage, with Paige right beside him in her white maternity dress, glowing under the spotlight.

"Tonight, we celebrate a new era," Connor announced into the microphone. "I am proud to officially announce Paige Lawson as the new head of our bridal business."

The crowd applauded.

Suddenly, a staff member sprinted up to the side of the stage, looking pale and out of breath. He urgently whispered into Connor's ear:

"Mr. Sinclair has arrived."

Connor’s eyes lit up. He instantly broke into a massive, triumphant smile. He had begged for this meeting for six months, truly believing his hard work had finally paid off.

Connor turned to Paige, proudly offering her his arm. "Stand by my side tonight," he told her confidently. "Let everyone see that you are the future hostess of Whitmore."

He led Paige down the stage steps, walking eagerly toward the entrance to welcome their most important guest.

The heavy oak doors of the VIP entrance slowly swung open.

Everett Sinclair walked in first. The room instantly fell quiet, his presence commanding the entire ballroom.

Connor quickly stepped forward, reaching out his hand with a flattering smile: "Mr. Sinclair, welcome—"

But Everett did not even look at him.

Everett completely ignored Connor's outstretched hand. He stopped, turned around, and reached his own hand out toward the open doorway.

A delicate hand, wearing a brand-new diamond wedding ring, fell softly into Everett's palm.

The host looked down at the freshly updated VIP list in his shaking hands. He picked up the microphone, his voice echoing through the dead silent ballroom:

"Please welcome the Chairman of Sinclair International, and—"