Too Late, CEO: Your Ex-Wife Is Gone

Arielle stepped into the softly lit nursery. The faint scent of baby powder and lavender washed over her, briefly calming her racing heart.

She approached the toddler bed. She looked down at three-year-old Leo. He was sleeping soundly, his small chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

The door clicked open behind her.

Julian had followed her inside. He was unwilling to let the argument drop. He hated losing control of any conversation.

"What do you want in the settlement to drop this nonsense?" Julian asked. He kept his voice low, but it was demanding and sharp.

Arielle gently pulled the soft blanket up over Leo's shoulders. She did not look back at Julian.

"I want nothing from your empire," she stated plainly. "Only full custody of Leo."

Julian crossed his arms over his chest. A cruel, dismissive smile formed on his lips.

"And how do you plan to provide for a Sinclair heir?" he questioned.

He stepped further into the room, his expensive leather shoes silent on the thick carpet.

"Your producer salary barely covers Leo's private preschool tuition in Manhattan," he reminded her. His tone was laced with financial superiority.

Arielle finally turned to face him.

"Money cannot replace a father who is never present," she countered.

Julian stepped closer to the bed. He looked down at his son. His gaze was analytical, as if inspecting a minor corporate investment rather than a child.

"I provide the best life possible for him," Julian argued. He pointed to the expensive, imported wooden toys scattered around the room. "He lacks nothing."

Arielle looked at him, feeling a deep, aching pity.

"What is Leo's favorite bedtime story?" she asked quietly.

Julian hesitated. His eyes darted to the massive bookshelf filled with colorful spines. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was completely unable to answer.

Arielle pressed further. "What is he severely allergic to?"

Julian frowned, annoyed by the interrogation. "Peanuts," he guessed. It was a standard answer.

He completely missed the mark.

"It's strawberries," Arielle told him. Her voice was laced with pity. "We have known that since he was one year old."

Julian's jaw tightened. A flush of humiliation crept up his neck at his own ignorance. But he refused to show weakness.

"Gena is paid handsomely to know those trivial details," Julian deflected, referring to the nanny. It was a blatant, defensive lie to cover up his sudden flush of embarrassment. He knew a severe allergy wasn't trivial, but his monumental ego refused to let him admit fault in front of the wife he usually dominated.

Arielle shook her head slowly. She realized the man standing before her was a complete stranger to his own child.

Suddenly, Julian's phone buzzed loudly in his suit pocket. The vibration broke the tense silence of the nursery.

Leo stirred in his sleep. He whimpered slightly at the sudden noise, his small hands clenching the blanket.

Arielle quickly leaned over, patting Leo's back in a rhythmic motion. She glared at Julian, silently demanding he silence the device.

Julian pulled out the phone. He glanced at the screen. The name 'Karli Lee' flashed brightly in the dim room.

Instead of declining it, Julian swiped the screen and answered the call right there in the nursery.

"Yes?" Julian said.

His tone shifted instantly. The icy arrogance vanished, replaced by a gentle, accommodating warmth.

"Did you make it to your cab safely?" he asked Karli, completely ignoring his wife's furious glare.

Arielle watched him. She listened to the soft timbre of his voice-a voice he never used with her anymore. The last invisible string tethering her to this marriage snapped silently in her chest.

Julian ended the call a moment later. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned back to Arielle as if nothing inappropriate had just happened.

Arielle pointed to the door. Her hand was steady.

"Get out," she whispered. Her voice was deadly and quiet.

Julian smirked. He felt he had regained the upper hand by showing he didn't care about her anger.

He turned and walked out of the room, confident she would yield by morning.