The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 285

Claire didn't think much of it and nodded.

"It's just a ribbon supplier. If you think they're reliable, go for it."

Julian forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "They're definitely reliable. I'll let you get back to work."

Claire looked down, scrolling through her photo gallery until she settled on a custom white rose-themed wedding dress.

She sent the picture to Miles.

"Want to come wedding dress shopping with me tonight?"

His reply came almost instantly.

"Yes. Send me the address."

By evening, Claire and the rest of the staff clocked out and left the building.

Julian stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching her get into a cab. He looked away.

Opening his photo gallery, he found the picture of the divorce agreement.

With a tap of his finger, he hit send.

You can only be mine, Claire.

At the Zimmerman Pharmaceuticals parking garage.

Miles was about to drive straight to the bridal boutique. He had already planned to give Claire the letter in his suit pocket the moment she stepped out in her dress.

His phone chimed with an email notification from an unknown number.

It was a high-resolution photo.

Black and white text.

Divorce Agreement.

The words were blindingly sharp.

His fingers froze over the screen. Before he could process it, a second photo came through.

At the bottom of the page, Claire's signature was neat and decisive, every stroke bold and clear.

He had stared at her handwriting for ten long years; it was carved into his very bones.

"Dr. Zimmerman, enjoying the show? If you have time, take a look in Claire's desk."

A cold chill seeped into Miles's palms.

The anticipation that had lit up his eyes just moments ago froze into a stiff, hollow stare.

Impossible.

He refused to believe a picture.

The sky was growing darker, brewing a massive thunderstorm that made the air heavy and suffocating.

Clinging to the last shred of his rationality, Miles drove to OCHH Luxury. The office building was practically deserted as he made his way to Claire's office.

He stopped in front of her desk.

Bending down, his trembling fingers pulled open the drawer.

He shoved aside the sketchbooks and design drafts.

There it was—the divorce agreement, flat, crisp, and immaculate.

She had hidden it so perfectly.

Holding onto a pathetic, desperate shred of hope, Miles slowly opened it.

It was drafted by a professional lawyer, the terms crystal clear.

Party A, Claire, and Party B, Miles, willingly agreed to dissolve their marriage. Party A would leave with nothing, severing all ties without any future contact.

Every single word dripped with her cold, calculated resolve.

The world fell into a dead silence.

Miles's fingers curled tighter around the pages, trembling violently.

He read it over and over.

"But Miles, she doesn't love you either. She will never love you."

Julian laughed, a cruel, vicious sound.

"She stayed by your side, defended you, and agreed to marry you, all because she was putting on a show."

He unlocked his phone and held it up, displaying an exclusive partnership agreement.

OCHH Luxury partnering with the Sterling family in Queenshaven.

"This was signed today. If you helped OCHH, she could use those resources to help Jefferson rebuild his empire."

"Take a good look. They've been in love for six years. She only loves him. The moment he looks her way, she'll run straight back into his arms."

"You're nothing to her, Miles."

The rain fell harder, accompanied by the deep rumble of thunder.

He wanted to look away, but his eyes were glued to the screen.

The contract bore Claire's official stamp. The signature for Party B was Jefferson's.

Miles clenched his hands at his sides, his knuckles turning white. His eyes held nothing but a dead, freezing emptiness.

Everything she had given him was for Jefferson. Ten years of longing, shattered.

Seeing Miles's agonizingly contained breakdown, Julian smiled—a toxic, satisfied smirk. He turned and walked away into the storm.

The fierce wind whipped the freezing rain, but the true chill was seeping from his bones.

The thread had snapped. Severed completely.

His limbs began to go numb, trembling uncontrollably as his muscles locked into painful spasms.

The psychosomatic illness he had suppressed for years erupted with devastating force.

Miles stumbled backward, crashing into a cold concrete pillar. His vision went black at the edges, a deafening ringing filling his ears.

He struggled to lift his wrist, barely able to grip his phone. After countless failed attempts, he managed to open his contacts.

It was raining. She was probably still at the bridal boutique, but he didn't think he could bring her home anymore.