The moment the car doors closed, the noise of the outside world faded into nothing.
Arianne sat quietly in the backseat, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery. The city lights blurred together as rain streaked down the glass, turning everything indistinct.
She rested her hands on her lap, fingers interlaced tightly, turning her knuckles pale. Only then did she notice her breathing. It was shallow and uneven. She didn't know how she had remained calm earlier.
As the minutes passed, the earlier events replayed in her mind. It was far from what she expected to witness tonight.
It had been a deliberate and calculated move from his end. If she were another woman, she might have cried and made a scene. But aside from the harsh words she had uttered, she had remained composed—even when he struck her.
She had seen it. The subtle frustration in Dominic's eyes. Not everyone would have noticed, but Arianne had spent years loving him. She knew his expressions too well.
He had expected tears. Anger. Collapse.
She had given him none of it—nor the satisfaction of seeing her crumble.
Her eyes darkened as she recalled details she had once brushed aside. A week ago, she had presented Dominic with a prenuptial agreement. He had refused to sign it, claiming he disliked the clauses. When she offered to revise them, he insisted on drafting one himself.
She had assumed it was a matter of pride.
Now, she knew better.
Instead of a revised agreement, she had received public humiliation.
The Dominic she knew did not act on impulse and emotion. His outburst earlier had been entirely out of character in Arianne's opinion
Whatever he was aiming for, she was the price.
Dominic's disappointed expression resurfaced in her mind. He had not expected her restraint and calmness, even when they provoked her, cornered her. Regardless of his intentions, Arianne knew there would be no reconciliation between them after tonight.
The familiar route passed unnoticed. Streets she had memorized long ago slid by without registering, as though distance was the only thing that mattered anymore.
The car slowed to a stop.
Only then did the weight finally descend.
She stepped out of the car and entered the house with hurried steps.
"Why did you come home so early tonight, dear?" Aunt Estella asked gently, not expecting to see Arianne return home by this hour. "Didn't you say you had an engagement banquet?"
"The wedding is off," Arianne answered quietly. "Please help me cancel the arrangements."
She didn't turn around.
But Aunt Estella knew her too well. A hand settled on Arianne's shoulder, coaxing her to face her.
The moment their eyes met, Arianne's composure finally collapsed.
She could not stop the tears from rolling down her face, ruining her makeup in the process.
"Oh, dear," Aunt Estella murmured, pulling Arianne into her arms as soon as she saw her lady's tears.
The familiarity of the embrace undid what little restraint she had left. It reminded Arianne of another night long ago—of being found crying alone after yet another argument between her parents, voices raised behind closed doors.
After her mother lost herself to grief following her father's infidelity, Aunt Estella had become her mother figure. She was more than a nanny for Arianne.
Her mother had never been cruel to Arianne. Only distant and emotionally unreachable. Affection was offered sparingly to Arianne. She had learned not to ask for comfort or love that would not come from her parents.
She learned to endure everything in silence instead.
When she was still young, responsibility followed soon after. Documents to review. Decisions that should not have rested on a teenager's shoulders. While others shielded themselves, they leaned on her steadiness.
She became capable before she was ever allowed to be vulnerable.
Aunt Estella held her until her tears finally slowed. No questions. No pressure to explain.
It was almost midnight when Arianne found herself sitting on the couch, eyes swollen and red. Aunt Estella moved quietly around the kitchen, preparing something light to eat. A bowl of mushroom soup was set in front of her—the same dish Arianne had liked since childhood.
She lifted the spoon and took a few mouthfuls, more out of obligation than appetite.
Her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the screen and saw the familiar group chat lighting up with new messages. Among them, Alexander Rochefort's name appeared repeatedly, his words sharp and furious as he cursed Dominic for the scene he caused. He demanded to know where she was, whether she was safe and unharmed by Dominic.
Arianne's fingers hovered over the screen.
Alex had never liked Dominic. He had warned her more than once about his ambition, his greed. She had defended Dominic every time, brushing aside their concerns.
Now, she closed the chat without replying.
The phone fell silent.
Exhaustion finally caught up with her. She suddenly lost the will to do anything.
"Don't worry too much, Aria," Aunt Estella said softly, breaking the silence. "Things will be messy for a while. What do you want to do now?"
Arianne lowered her gaze.
After what Dominic had done, she knew he wouldn't stop here. Whatever damage he intended to cause, this was only the opening move. She needed distance—space to breathe, to think.
She didn't want to drag Aunt Estella into another messy battle where she couldn't be spared. Arianne knew that to protect those who loved her, she had to protect herself.
Stepping back did not mean surrender. It meant surviving.
The answer had already formed long before she voiced it. Staying meant being watched, measured, and pulled back into a fight she had not chosen. Leaving, at least for now, would give her room to breathe.
"If I say I want to leave," Arianne asked quietly, "will you go with me?"
Aunt Estella cupped her face. She didn't need time to give Arianne's question to think about.
"Of course, dear," she said. "Anywhere you go, I will follow," came her immediate answer.
Arianne smiled genuinely this time. For now, this was enough.
Tonight had taken much from her.
But she was not done yet.