No More Picking Up His Pieces Chapter 11

No More Picking Up His Pieces Chapter 11: He’s Really Gone

After Maxwell left, the workshop fell into a long silence.

Brooke stayed by the door, listening hard. Once she was sure there was no sound outside, she turned to Arabella. “Arabella, he’s really gone.”

Arabella let out a soft mm without looking up. Her eyes were still fixed on the divorce agreement. The edges of the paper were crumpled from Maxwell’s tight grip. She smoothed them out slowly.

Brooke walked over and asked carefully, “Are you okay?”

Arabella closed the agreement and set it back on the desk. “It’s not like I’m dying over it.” Her voice was flat, as if the fierce argument just now hadn’t left a mark on her at all.

But Brooke knew better. Someone who was truly fine wouldn’t have such shaking hands. She pressed her lips together, turned to pour a glass of water, and handed it to Arabella.

Arabella took the glass. The moment her palm touched it, her phone rang. It wasn’t Maxwell. It was his mother, Margaret Kingston.

The screen lit up, the caller ID flashing like a death sentence. Brooke glanced at it and whispered, “Are you going to answer?”

Arabella stared at the screen and suddenly smiled. “I’ll answer it.” She swiped to take the call and put it on speaker.

The moment the line connected, Margaret’s voice came through, simmering with anger but still clinging to the dignified tone of an elder. “Arabella, haven’t you caused enough trouble yet?”

Brooke’s scalp prickled at once. Leaning against the edge of the table, Arabella took a slow sip of water. “Not even close.”

Margaret clearly hadn’t expected such a blunt answer, and her tone faltered for a second.

Then she said, “Take back the demand letter right now, delete your post, and come back to the Kingston family. We can still talk this through.”

Arabella let out a faint laugh. “Talk about what exactly? About how the Kingston family plans to sweet-talk me into giving in?”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. Then Margaret’s tone turned ice-cold. “Arabella, I’m not here to bandy words with you. If you let this blow up any further, you’ll regret it.”

“Alma said that last night, so did Jessica, and so did Maxwell.” Arabella set down her glass, her gaze growing colder bit by bit. “Margaret, is that the only line the Kingston family knows how to say?”

Margaret was left speechless for a moment, then her voice sharpened. “Don’t be ungrateful. You’re still Maxwell’s wife. The Kingston family is willing to save you some dignity only because you’ve done your duty these past three years—”

“Done my duty?” Arabella cut Margaret off, the smile vanishing from her face in an instant.

“Margaret, restoring the bridal jewelry set and protecting the Kingston family’s name are my duty. But does your son lending that jewelry set to another woman also fall under my duty?

“I refuse to clean up your family’s mess, and that makes me ungrateful?”

Brooke stood next to Arabella, barely daring to breathe. She’d always known Arabella had a sharp tongue. But seeing Arabella lay everything bare without holding back, she still felt rather intimidated.

Two seconds of silence stretched on the phone. Margaret was clearly seething, her voice tight with fury. “Very well. If you insist on settling scores, then let me make things clear to you too.

“That bridal set belongs to the Kingston family. You’re nothing but someone who fixes trinkets. It’s not your place to question who we lend it to or who gets to wear it.”

The moment those words landed, the workshop fell dead silent. Brooke’s face went pale. She looked at Arabella on instinct.

Arabella stood frozen for a moment, saying nothing. After a few seconds, she suddenly laughed. “Margaret, you’ve finally said what you really think.”

Margaret said coldly, “Did I say anything wrong?”

“Not a thing.” Arabella nodded. “You’re absolutely right.

“In the eyes of the Kingston family, I’m nothing more than a trinket fixer, even after I spent 3 months restoring those pieces, burning the midnight oil for countless nights.

“The jewelry set belongs to the Kingston family. The prestige belongs to the Kingston family. And even my title as Mrs. Kingston is nothing but a handy thing for your family to use.”

Her voice softened a little as she went on. “So I don’t want that title anymore.”

Those words seemed to stun Margaret into silence, her breathing growing heavy. “Arabella, don’t think you can carry on like this once you’re out of the Kingston family,” she warned.

Arabella lowered her eyes and slowly pulled out the divorce agreement, pressing it beneath her palm. “You don’t need to worry about what I can or can’t do.

“What the Kingston family ought to worry about is what the board will think tomorrow, what the media will say, and how to save Kingston Jewelry.”

“As for me,” she smiled faintly, “I’m just a lowly jewelry restorer with nothing to lose. I can afford to lose face. But can the Kingston family?”

The line went completely quiet. A few seconds later, Margaret’s voice shook with rage, cracking as she spoke. “Arabella, do you really think Maxwell can’t live without you?

“Mark my words. One word from the Kingston family, and you’ll have to shut your workshop down by tomorrow.”

Brooke’s head shot up at the threat. Arabella, however, stayed perfectly calm, as if she had seen this coming all along. “Then let’s try it,” she said evenly.

“You—” Margaret snapped.

“Margaret.” Arabella cut Margaret off, her voice turning icy. “You’re not saying all this because you hate me. You’re just terrified.

“You’re terrified I’ll blow this whole thing up, terrified the Kingston family will lose face, terrified Maxwell will crash and burn because of me. That’s why you’re panicking.”

A sharp intake of breath came from the other end of the line. In that instant, Arabella knew she had hit the nail on the head.

She tugged at the corner of her mouth and left her final words. “Go tell Maxwell this. I’ve wanted to tear down the Kingston family’s fake mask long before today.” With that, she hung up the phone.

A heavy silence hung over the workshop for a long while. Coming back to her senses, Brooke couldn’t help but swear. “What a bitch she is.”

Arabella didn’t respond. She simply set her phone aside. After a few seconds, she said quietly, “What she said is true. In the Kingston family’s eyes, I’ve always been nothing more than trinket fixer.”

Brooke grew anxious at once. “Arabella, don’t put down yourself like that.”

“I’m not putting myself down.” Arabella looked up at Brooke, her gaze calm and distant. “It’s just that today I finally understand the way they see me has never matched the way I see myself.”

With that, she tucked the divorce agreement back into its folder, her movements steady and composed. “Brooke,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Starting tomorrow, get the workshop’s storefront sign fixed.”

Brooke blinked in confusion. “Now?”

“Yes.” Arabella nodded. “Now that we’ve torn it all down, there’s no point hiding anymore.”

“The Kingston family thinks I’m nothing without them, right?” She lifted her eyes and smiled faintly. “Then I’ll open my doors again and let them see exactly what I can do.”

Brooke’s eyes lit up at once. “Got it,” she said.

Just then, Arabella’s phone rang again. This time, it was an unfamiliar number. Arabella glanced at the screen and picked up.

A man’s voice came through the line, gentle and crisp. “Ms. Wayne, this is Ryan Parker from Lumen Arcana.”

A faint flicker passed through Arabella’s brows. “Mr. Parker,” she said.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not at all.”

“The thing is,” Ryan chuckled, “Kingston Group reached out to us tonight to bury the story about the bridal jewelry set. But I’ve gone through all the restoration materials you sent over yesterday.”

Arabella said nothing. She knew the real drama was only just getting started.

Ryan went on, “I’m far more interested in you than in the Kingston family’s private affairs. Ms. Wayne, would you be interested in doing an exclusive interview with us?”

Brooke stood beside Arabella, her eyes going wide. Arabella held the phone, her gaze growing more serious. “What kind of interview?” she asked.

“Jewelry Restorer Arabella: The Story Behind the Kingston Family’s Bridal Jewelry Set,” Ryan replied.

He paused for a beat, then added one more line. “Of course, if you’re willing, we can also talk about how the Kingston family turned a talented restorer into a mere housewife.”

The workshop fell into complete silence. Brooke barely dared to breathe too loud.

Standing beneath the workshop light, Arabella held the phone in her hand. Several long seconds passed before she said, “Mr. Parker.”

“Yes?”

“You certainly know how to write a headline.”

Ryan laughed on the other end of the line. “So will you do the interview, Ms. Wayne?”

Arabella lifted her gaze to the broken storefront sign of the workshop. Dust had settled on the glass. Yet beneath the grime were the two words she had painted with her own hands before marriage: Arabella Wayne.

She stared at the storefront sign for a moment, then suddenly smiled. “I’ll do it.”

After Arabella hung up, Brooke was brimming with excitement. “Arabella, you’re going to be featured in Lumen Arcana?”

Arabella set down her phone and gave a soft mm.

“If Mr. Kingston gets wind of this, he’ll be furious,” Brooke said.

Arabella sorted through the papers on her desk, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “The angrier he gets, the better.”

The words had barely left her mouth when footsteps sounded outside the door again. This time, it wasn’t Maxwell.

The steps were light, stopping just outside without coming in. A moment later, a soft woman’s voice drifted through the door. “Ms. Wayne.”

Arabella’s hands went still. Brooke’s face tightened.

“Who’s that?” Arabella asked.

The gentle voice outside stayed soft but clear. “It’s Daisy Hart. I’d like to have a word with you.”