My billionaire ex-husband divorced me because he convinced himself I was the reason we couldn’t have children.

Two weeks passed, transforming Nia’s quiet life into an intense, surreal whirlwind.

Luca hadn't tried to force his way into their lives legally or aggressively. Instead, he did something far more dangerous: he was patient, humble, and completely devoted. He moved into a townhouse three blocks away, hired private security to discreetly guard Nia’s street without being intrusive, and showed up every single afternoon at 4:00 PM to walk Eli and Mara home from school.

He didn't bring extravagant gifts. He brought books, art supplies, and endless patience. He listened to Eli explain every single detail about dinosaurs, and he let Mara paint his fingernails pink without complaint.

Standing in Nia’s kitchen on a Tuesday evening while the twins were washing up for dinner, Luca leaned against the counter, watching Nia chop vegetables for a salad.

"You're quiet tonight," Luca observed softly.

"I'm tired," Nia replied, her knife moving methodically across the cutting board. "And I'm still trying to process all of this."

"I know," Luca said, stepping closer. The subtle scent of his expensive cedarwood cologne filled her senses, intoxicatingly familiar. "Evelyn’s lawyer served me with divorce papers yesterday."

Nia stopped cutting. She kept her eyes fixed on the board. "I heard she moved out of your apartment."

"It was never a real marriage, Nia," Luca said, his voice dropping an octave, rich and full of regret. "It was an arrangement structured by my mother to consolidate Moretti Holdings with the Vance family estate. I stayed away from home, immersed myself in work... because every time I looked at another woman, I felt disgusted. Because she wasn't you."

"Don't do that, Luca," Nia whispered, turning to face him, her wooden spoon held like a shield between them. "Don't pretend that six years didn't happen. You walked away from me because you thought I was broken."

"I walked away because I thought I was breaking you!" Luca took a fast step forward, closing the distance between them, his hand coming up to hover just inches from her cheek, desperate to touch her but terrified of pushing too far. "Every night I saw you crying over another negative test, I felt like a failure. And when Dr. Vance showed me that report, when he told me you were lying to spare my feelings... I thought I was freeing you from a life of feeling inadequate!"

"You should have asked me!" Nia’s eyes flashed with fierce, burning anger, her chest heaving. "You should have looked me in the eyes and said, 'Nia, is this true?' You chose to believe a piece of paper and your mother’s serpent tongue instead of the woman who held your heart for seven years!"

"I know!" Luca yelled softly, tears glistening in his dark eyes. "I know I failed you! I hate myself every single second of every single day for not fighting for you! I spent six years living in an icy, dead room of my own making, thinking I deserved the misery!"

He reached out, his long fingers gently wrapping around her wrist, pulling her spoon down. Nia meant to pull away, but as his thumb brushed against the pulse point on her wrist, a jolt of pure, electrifying heat shot through her body.

Their eyes locked. The anger in the air shifted instantly into something raw, thick, and suffocatingly intense. The unspoken desire that had been buried under six years of grief flared to life.

Luca took her chin in his hand, his touch infinitely tender. "I don't expect you to forgive me, Nia. I don't expect you to take me back today, or next month, or next year. But I am never letting you go again. I will spend the rest of my life earning back one percent of your heart."

Nia’s breath hitched. She looked at his lips, so close to hers, remembering how they felt, how they used to whisper promises against her skin in the dark.