Chapter 3

Just as I was engrossed in my work, my phone suddenly rang. An unknown number flashed on the screen.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Bray. This is Kaden Roach from Boarco Capital. We scheduled a 3 PM meeting today to discuss our collaboration," the man said.

I froze. I'd completely forgotten about this. A month ago, I'd taken on a brand consulting project in my personal capacity, and the client was Boarco Capital.

"My apologies, Mr. Roach. I've been dealing with some personal matters lately," I said.

"I understand," he said, his voice deep and steady. "I heard about what happened. Should you need to reschedule, just let me know."

"No." I took a deep breath. "I'll see you at three. Text me the address."

I needed work to distract me from everything, especially since this project concerned my professional reputation.

At 2:50 PM, I walked into an upscale café in the CBD. Dressed in a perfectly tailored navy suit and flawless makeup, no one could have guessed I was a woman who had just survived both a kidnapping and a broken marriage.

"Bianca Bray." A man's voice called out to me. I turned and saw Kaden Roach, a tall figure from the window seat.

Kaden was younger than I'd imagined, probably in his early thirties, with chiseled features and hawk-like, piercing eyes. Dressed in a simple dark gray suit without a tie, he exuded a quiet intensity.

"Mr. Roach," I said, walking over to shake his hand.

Kaden's handshake was warm and firm, but he let go quickly, keeping things professional. He gestured to the seat across from him. "Please have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Americano, thanks."

He signaled to the waiter, then looked straight at me. "First of all, Ms. Bray, I'm relieved to see you're safe."

I gave a slight nod, not wanting to discuss the matter any further.

"Secondly," Kaden continued, "if you need to put the project on hold due to your recent circumstances, I completely understand."

"My personal matters won't affect my work," I said, meeting his gaze directly. "Unless you've changed your mind?"

Kaden's lips curved slightly. "On the contrary. Having witnessed how you handled that crisis, I'm even more convinced we've got the right person for the job."

I arched an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

His gaze sharpened. "The kidnappers livestreamed 'The Choice.' Most people only saw who Finley picked. But what I noticed was that, even then, you maintained remarkable composure and dignity."

A wave of discomfort washed over me. That humiliating footage had actually been leaked.

Seeming to notice my discomfort, Kaden smoothly shifted the topic. "Let's talk about the project. Boarco is planning to acquire several domestic brands and would value your professional assessment."

For the next two hours, we delved deep into the details of our collaboration. Kaden was sharp-minded and offered unique insights into the market. During our conversation, I noticed he would occasionally reference industry perspectives I'd published years ago—he had clearly done his research.

I couldn't help but ask, "You seem quite familiar with my professional background?"

Kaden's eyes flickered for a moment. "At Boarco, we make it a point to know our partners well."

As he was about to leave, Kaden suddenly asked, "Are you still staying at the Duncan residence?"

"No, I'm staying at a hotel for now," I said.

Kaden handed me his personal card. There was nothing on it but a single phone number. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out," he said.

Back at the hotel, I found an email from Isabella, the draft divorce agreement. I was just about to review it carefully when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Looking through the peephole, I saw Finley outside the door with a bouquet of roses and a gift bag.

"Bianca, I know you're in there," Finley's voice carried through the door, soft yet urgent. "Open up. We need to talk."

I drew a deep breath and cracked open the door, leaving the security chain in place.

Finley looked worn out, dark circles shadowing his eyes. But the moment he saw me, his face lit up. "Bianca..."

"What do you want?"

Finley held up what he'd brought. "I brought you a change of clothes and that tiramisu you love from your favorite bakery."

I stared at him coldly. 'Did Naomi tell you where I'm staying?'

"I'm worried about you." Finley tried to push the door open, but the security chain stopped him. His voice softened, pleading: "Bianca, could you please take the chain off and let me in?"

Bianca Bray said coldly, "No. Drop it and go."

Finley's expression twisted in pain. "Bianca, please... I know you're angry, but given what happened back then..."

Bianca suddenly cut in, her voice icy. "So, why did you visit Megan at the hospital every day?"

Finley froze. "Who told you?"

"So it's true after all," I sneered. "You know what I realized today? Our kitchen island makes such a perfect photo backdrop, especially when she was wearing your shirt."

Finley's face went deathly pale. "You... You went through my computer?"

"You'll receive the divorce papers at your office tomorrow." I moved to close the door.

Finley suddenly reached out, bracing his hand against the door. "Bianca! Those photos don't mean anything! Megan's just a young girl. She likes to play around. That's all..."

Bianca fired back, her voice sharp with accusation. "Then why did you delete them? And why were they locked in your desk drawer?"

Finley was at a loss for words.

"Oh, by the way," I added sharply, "tell your 'little girl' that the Cartier necklace she's wearing was purchased with the supplementary card on our joint account. I want it returned intact."

With that, I slammed the door shut in his face.

Finley kept knocking for ten minutes before finally giving up. "Get some rest," he called through the door. "I'll come by tomorrow." With that, he left.

I leaned against the door, slowly sliding down to the floor. Strangely, I didn't cry. Instead, a peculiar sense of release washed over me.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from Kaden: [Given everything you've been through, you might want somewhere safer. I have a serviced apartment in the financial district with top-notch security. The offer stands anytime.]

I didn't reply, but I filed his offer away in my mind.

The next morning, I got a call from hotel reception saying that Megan was asking to see me.

I arched an eyebrow and said, "Send her up."