Divorce me I'm done serving you (Ayla) novel Chapter 761

The next day came.

Tonight was the night Draven had said he'd do it with her.

Why he'd chosen this specific day, Ayla had turned over and over in her head—but there was nothing remarkable about today's date. Just the last day of October.

She stopped herself from spiraling and went to the office.

She kept losing focus all day, which almost never happened.

But everyone around her could feel the happiness radiating off her from the inside out.

Draven didn't reach out all day.

Which only made her more curious.

Finally, she made it to the end of the workday. Right on time, Ayla got a call from Draven. "Ayla, I'm downstairs. Come on down—I'll take you to dinner."

"Okay." Ayla hung up, grabbed her bag, and left.

The elevator numbers ticked downward.

Time felt like it had slowed—and then, as if in the same breath, she'd already reached the parking level.

With a ding, the elevator doors opened.

Ayla's heart was hammering. She stepped out and looked up—and there was Draven, dressed for something serious. A sharp suit, impeccably fitted, aristocratic, and luminous. Like a man about to walk into a formal gala. He seemed lit from within.

Ayla couldn't look away. She walked toward him, one step at a time.

Every step, moving toward her happiness.

Sixteen steps total.

She reached him. She tilted her head back just slightly to meet those dark, deep, beautiful eyes—still exactly as she remembered them—and said sincerely, "Mr. Storm, you look incredible today."

Draven was always striking. Even slightly dressed up, he was devastating—and though Ayla saw that face every day, had even kissed it that morning before leaving, she still couldn't look away.

The more formal he looked, the faster her heart went—the more she wanted to know what was coming.

She hadn't looked forward to anything this much in a very, very long time.

All because of the suspense he'd been building.

Draven drove her to dinner first—a restaurant with genuinely exceptional food.

The setting suited his outfit beautifully, but whatever he was planning, this wasn't the moment for it. Other guests were here. If Draven was going for something romantic, he'd have the place to himself.

Though booking out an entire restaurant for a romantic gesture was getting a bit overdone. Draven probably wouldn't do that.

And sure enough, he didn't.

Ayla settled in and ate. After a full, satisfying dinner, Draven drove her away—not back toward Westhaven, but in another direction entirely.

So, was Draven bringing her here to see the renovation?

If that was really it, then why had he made her wait two days?

All she had to do was reach out. Her hand was caught by a warm, large grip—then a gentle pull, a sudden lightness—and Draven drew her out of the car.

Ayla stood in front of him.

Draven tilted his head down to look at her. "Nervous?"

Ayla looked up at him. "I wasn't until you said that. Now I am."

"You don't need to be."

"If you don't want me nervous, just tell me what you're doing. Though I suppose it doesn't matter anymore—you don't need to answer, because I'm already here with you."

Draven smiled. "Thank you for going along with me."

Ayla said, "You're right—you do owe me a thank-you."

Draven's smile deepened.

Ayla was curious now. "If I'd kept pushing and asking why, would you have told me?"

Draven thought about it properly. "If you really wanted to know, I probably would have."

Ayla genuinely wanted to bite him. "I held myself back for a whole day. And now you're telling me I could've just asked?"

Draven pulled her in by the waist. "That's exactly why you're so good—you respected my wishes, and you came with me anyway."