Chapter 5

Arielle stepped out of her yellow cab. She looked up at the towering glass facade of the Manhattan network building. The morning air was crisp, biting at her cheeks.

She walked through the revolving doors and swiped her security badge at the turnstiles. The green light beeped, signaling her entry into the bustling lobby.

Walking toward the executive elevators, she spotted Anthony Walton. He was Julian's personal assistant, standing near the marble pillars.

Anthony looked surprised to see her. He quickly tried to hide a manila folder behind his back, his posture stiffening.

Arielle approached him. She maintained her professional composure. "Good morning, Anthony."

Anthony stammered, shifting his weight nervously. "Mrs. Sinclair. How are you feeling? Do you need me to clear your schedule for a few days off?"

Arielle frowned slightly. "Why would I need time off?"

Anthony looked confused. His eyes darted around the lobby. He assumed Julian had already discussed the incident with her at home.

"Well, after the scare..." Anthony inadvertently mentioned. "Mr. Sinclair received an emergency notification about your flight yesterday afternoon. His executive team was notified. We were all very worried."

Arielle's blood ran instantly cold. Her heart skipped a heavy beat, thudding painfully against her ribs.

"Clarify that, Anthony," she asked. Her voice was dangerously quiet and steady.

Anthony realized he might have misspoken. He tried to backtrack, looking nervously at the elevator numbers ticking upward. "I just meant... the office was notified."

Arielle stepped directly into his personal space. Her authoritative producer persona took over. She demanded the truth with a single, piercing look.

Intimidated, Anthony swallowed hard. "Julian was notified when your jet lost engine power. The airline called his direct line."

Arielle processed the words. Julian knew. He knew she was plunging toward the earth. He knew she was facing imminent death.

"What exactly was Julian's reaction when he got the news?" she asked. Her fingertips went numb.

Anthony's silence spoke volumes. He looked at the floor before muttering, "Mr. Sinclair had a board meeting. He said he couldn't be interrupted."

Arielle felt the air leave her lungs. Julian chose to continue a routine corporate meeting rather than check if his wife survived a plane crash.

Worse, he spent that very evening drinking bourbon with Karli Lee on their living room sofa, completely unbothered.

A physical wave of dizziness hit Arielle. The lobby spun. She reached out and gripped the brass railing of the wall to steady her swaying body.

Anthony reached out to help her. "Mrs. Sinclair-"

She held up a hand, stopping him instantly. "Don't."

The elevator doors chimed open. Arielle stepped back. She let Anthony go in alone.

She stood in the bustling lobby. The noise of the crowd faded into a muted, underwater buzz.

The last lingering shred of hope she subconsciously held for her marriage incinerated into ash.

She pulled out her phone. Her fingers were stiff. She scrolled to Julian's contact and stared at his name.

With a decisive swipe, she blocked his personal number.

She then called her assistant, Nina Hayes.

"Nina," Arielle said, her voice devoid of emotion. "Cancel all my joint appearances with Julian. Immediately."

"Is everything okay, Arielle?" Nina asked through the receiver.

"Everything is finally clear," Arielle replied.

She squared her shoulders. Her expression hardened into an impenetrable mask of resolve. She walked toward the staff elevators, completely abandoning any remaining sentimentality for Julian Sinclair.