No More Picking Up His Pieces Chapter 13

No More Picking Up His Pieces Chapter 13: The Divorce Agreement

Arabella woke at six the next morning. Dawn hadn’t fully broken yet. Outside the workshop, the sky was gray and hazy, the whole street still quiet.

Brooke slept on the sofa, tangled in her blanket. The computer on the table was still on, the screen showing the revised draft of the agreement Charlotte had sent the night before.

Arabella sat up and stared at the document for a long time. The formal version was thinner and more concise than the draft.

Everything was laid out clearly: the property split, the project allocation, and how she would give up her status as Mrs. Kingston.

She flipped to the last page, her eyes settling on the signature line. Once Maxwell signed his name, these three years of marriage would be over for good.

Arabella stared at it for a moment, then let out a laugh. Before last night, she’d thought this step was still far off. Now it turned out to be nothing more than a few sheets of paper.

She got up to wash her face. By the time she came back, Brooke was awake, rubbing her eyes drowsily. “Arabella, what time is it?”

“Seven.”

Brooke jolted fully awake. “That early?”

Arabella gave a soft mm and slipped the agreement into a document folder.

Watching Arabella’s movements, Brooke slowly pieced it together, her mind clearing in an instant. “You’re going right now?”

“I’m going now.” Arabella glanced at Brooke. “What else, wait for Maxwell to come block my door instead?”

Brooke opened her mouth, then said after a long pause, “Arabella, you’re really something.”

Arabella didn’t smile. She picked up her bag and said evenly, “Stay and watch the workshop today. Don’t open the door for anyone you don’t know. Let me know the second Charlotte has any news.”

“Got it.” Brooke nodded, then couldn’t help asking, “Where are you taking it?”

Arabella tightened her grip on the folder. “Kingston Group.”

—

At eight forty in the morning, the entrance of the Kingston Group building was packed with cars.

Arabella stepped out of her car just as the front desk staff were changing shifts. The moment she walked into the lobby, someone recognized her.

The young receptionist’s face went pale in an instant. She stood up nervously. “Ms. Wayne.”

Arabella gave a slight nod. “Where’s Maxwell?”

“Mr. Kingston is in a board meeting.” The receptionist’s voice trailed off timidly. “Would you like to wait in the lounge first?”

Arabella smiled faintly. “No need.” She headed straight for the elevators.

The receptionist panicked but didn’t dare stop Arabella. She quickly grabbed the internal phone, her voice trembling. “Ms. Zachary, Ms. Wayne is here.”

On the twenty-third floor, outside the meeting room, Jessica came hurrying over almost at a run. The second she spotted the document folder in Arabella’s hand, her eyelid twitched hard.

“Ella—” Jessica caught herself at once and corrected it. “Arabella, what are you doing here?”

Arabella stopped and looked at Jessica. “I’ve brought something for Maxwell.”

Jessica forced a stiff smile. “Mr. Kingston is in a meeting right now. It’s really not a good time. Why don’t you wait a little?”

“Perfect timing, then.” Arabella cut Jessica off. “Saves me the trouble of tracking him down.”

Jessica’s face turned grave at once. “Arabella, don’t do this. The board members and project heads are all in there. If you walk in now, it’ll only make things uglier.”

Arabella nodded calmly. “I know.”

“Then why are you still doing this?”

“Jessica.” Arabella fixed Jessica with a quiet look that rooted her to the spot. “Isn’t your Mr. Kingston always so obsessed with propriety? Then I’ll hand this to him on the most proper occasion I can find today.”

The color drained from Jessica’s face. She could tell right away that Arabella wasn’t here to pick a fight, but to get the divorce done for real.

The meeting room door stayed shut behind them. The soundproofing was so good that only a low murmur of male voices drifted out.

Arabella raised her hand and knocked three times. The knock was steady and unhurried. Jessica’s heart nearly leapt into her throat.

The next second, the door opened from inside. The board secretary poked his head out, stunned at first, then his face went pale. “Ms. Wayne?” he said.

Arabella ignored him and glanced into the room. A long conference table was lined with seated executives.

Maxwell sat at the head of the table in a crisp black suit, his tie perfectly knotted, his expression cold and unyielding, as if he had command of any room he walked into.

Then his eyes fell on Arabella standing at the door. In that instant, his composure cracked. It was subtle, but Arabella saw it clearly.

Standing in the doorway before the entire room, Arabella held out the document folder. “Maxwell.”

The meeting room went dead silent.

Maxwell stared at Arabella, his gaze dark and heavy. “What are you doing here?”

Arabella smiled faintly. “Delivering the divorce agreement.”

The moment those words landed, every face around the table shifted.

Maxwell made no move to take it. Arabella was in no rush either. She stepped forward and set the folder down on the conference table, right in front of Maxwell.

On the brown paper bag, the words Divorce Agreement were plain for all to see. The room went so quiet that even the rustle of papers stopped.

One of the directors sitting near Maxwell coughed awkwardly, looking utterly flustered. Some stared down, pretending to read documents. Others stole glances at Maxwell’s darkening expression.

Maxwell stayed motionless. He stared at the folder, the veins on the back of his hand straining tightly.

After a few seconds, he lifted his head and looked at Arabella, his voice ice-cold. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

Arabella nodded. “I know. I was afraid you might overlook it, so I brought it to you myself.”

Someone in the room failed to hold back a gasp.

Maxwell’s face turned thunderous. “Get out.”

“I’ll leave once you’ve read it.” Arabella stood her ground without backing an inch. “Just take a look.”

Maxwell’s eyes blazed with barely contained rage. “Arabella, I told you to leave.”

Arabella looked at him and suddenly smiled. “Mr. Kingston, didn’t you always think I was just throwing a tantrum? Now that the divorce agreement is sitting right on your table, do you still think I’m messing around?”

Maxwell’s Adam’s apple bobbed sharply. He finally reached out and picked up the folder. His movements were restrained, but every person in the room watched him closely.

He opened it and pulled out the first page. After he read just two lines, his expression darkened bit by bit.

When he reached the clause stating that Arabella voluntarily gives up using the public identity tied to the title of Mrs. Kingston, his grip on the paper visibly tightened.

Across the table, another director was so awkward that he didn’t dare lift his head.

Arabella looked straight at Maxwell, her voice soft. “Do you understand now?”

Maxwell raised his eyes to meet hers. His gaze was no longer just cold. It burned with barely held rage. “Do you really have to push things this far?” he asked.

Arabella nodded. “Yes. Maxwell, I don’t want it anymore.” With those words, she turned and walked out without a second’s pause.

Behind her came the harsh scrape of a chair being shoved violently back. The sound rang out loud enough to startle everyone in the room.

Maxwell had stood up. It was the first time he’d lost his composure so openly since the meeting began.

Jessica stood frozen in the doorway, watching helplessly as Maxwell strode out after Arabella with the divorce agreement still in his hand.

The meeting room stayed deathly quiet. After a long, awkward pause, someone spoke haltingly. “Mr. Kingston, should we continue the meeting?”

No one answered. Everyone knew perfectly well that this meeting was over for the day.

—

Arabella had just reached the elevator lobby when Maxwell’s voice called out behind her. “Arabella.”

She stopped, but didn’t turn around.

The next moment, Maxwell caught up, seized her wrist, and spun her around to face him. “Who told you to bring this to the company?”

Arabella looked up at him. “I decided on my own.”

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Arabella nodded. “I did it on purpose.”

Her answer made Maxwell’s face twist with rage. He stared at her, his breathing heavy and ragged. “Do you have to back me into a corner like this?”

Arabella suddenly found it absurd. “I back you into a corner? Maxwell, did I tell you to lend out the bridal jewelry set? Did I tell you to defend Daisy? Did I tell you to drag the Kingston name through the mud?”

Her gaze turned ice-cold. “The only reason you’re being laughed at right now is that you brought it all on yourself,” she said.

Maxwell’s grip on her wrist tightened hard. Arabella winced but didn’t pull away. She looked at him and said softly, “Maxwell, didn’t you always think I’d never leave you? So what are you afraid of now?”

At those words, Maxwell’s face went utterly dark. He stared at her, unable to find words for a long moment.

Arabella didn’t give him another chance. She slowly pulled her wrist free and stepped back half a pace. “Take your time reading the agreement. And don’t forget to sign it when you’re done.”

With that, she turned and stepped into the elevator.

As the doors slid shut, Maxwell stood rooted outside, his face as black as a gathering storm. The agreement was crumpled in his fist.