4.Chapter 4 Sure About The Wedding

Byron answered his phone with a sneer. “Figured it out yet? If you’re done sulking, get the hell back here.”

Everyone in the room heard Sylvia’s voice.

“Byron, nine o’clock tomorrow morning,” her voice came through, calm and steady. “I’ll be at the county clerk’s office. Let’s get this divorce finalized.”

She hung up without another word.

Liana’s temper flared. She slammed her hand on the table. “You hear that? We give her a little slack, and she walks all over us! Divorce? Who does she think she’s fooling?”

“Mom, don’t bother,” Byron said, a cold smirk tugging at his lips.

Then he added, “She thinks I won’t call her bluff? Fine. I’ll meet her at the clerk’s office tomorrow and see how she wraps up this little stunt.”

No one took Sylvia’s divorce talk seriously. Just another one of her outbursts.

The next morning, Sylvia showed up at the county clerk’s office right on time.

She wore plain jeans and a white button-up, her hair pulled back loosely. Nothing flashy, but she looked fresh, like a cool breeze people couldn’t ignore.

“You sure about this?” Byron asked.

He stepped out of his Maybach, his sharp features twisted with mockery while he looked at this “pretentious” woman.

“Save it,” Sylvia said, grabbing her ID from her bag. She walked into the clerk’s office without looking back.

Byron’s “kindness” was rejected, and his annoyance spiked. He couldn’t believe she was keeping up this act till now. He followed her inside, steaming.

The divorce agreement was ready. All they had to do was sign and file.

The clerk said, flat and routine. “Take your copies of the agreement. Come back in three months to pick up the divorce certificate after you’re done with the court.”

Byron’s face stayed icy, like a winter storm. He’d been waiting for Sylvia to cave, to back off. But she didn’t. She went through with it.

“You’ll regret this, Sylvia,” he growled, his eyes flashing with warning.

“Byron, don’t give me that look,” she fired back. “You think I’d care?”

With that, she jumped into a cab and was gone.

Ditching this jerk would add years to her life. She knew she deserved better and should’ve dumped Byron ages ago.

Now, she knew she’d be busy because she had big plans for her new life.

As for that toxic family? She wasn’t their psychiatrist or something. They could stay out of her way.

Byron stood there, eyes narrowed, watching her cab vanish. Veins popped on his clenched fists, his face dark enough to scare off a storm.

*****

Time flew by. Three years passed.

In the middle of the night, Edward Blair, the family patriarch, had a massive heart attack. The family rushed him to the hospital in a frenzy.

“Dr. Groove, how’s my grandfather?” Byron stormed into the hospital director’s office.

Three years had changed him. The brash young man was gone, replaced by a sharp, commanding figure. But now, his eyes blazed with worry.

Cedric Groove was a top expert and head of the elite private hospital. He wiped sweat from his forehead, replying, “Edward’s heart is badly damaged. This surgery… no one in the country can pull it off.”

Byron’s face turned cold, like ice settling in. “Then what’s the plan?”

Liana, frantic, cut in. “If no one here can do it, send him overseas! Get the best doctors!”

Cedric sighed heavily, his face grim. “This procedure’s too complicated. Even overseas experts might not be able to help.”

His words landed like a death sentence.

The Blairs’ faces went pale. Edward had built their empire from nothing. They couldn’t just watch him fade away.

“Mr. Blair, don’t give up yet,” Cedric said, a sudden idea sparking. “I can call my mentor. Maybe she’ll come back to save Edward.”

Liana’s eyes lit up, grasping at the hope. “Your mentor? She must be incredible!”

She grabbed Cedric’s arm, her voice desperate. “Name the price. Just get her here!”

Byron gave a sharp nod. “Dr. Groove, money’s no issue. Whatever it takes to save my grandfather.”

Cedric let out a heavy sigh, his face lined with doubt. “I’ll try… but I’ve asked her to come back before, and she’s always said no. It’s not about the money.”

He grabbed his phone and stepped out of the office. After a long, tense call in the hallway, he came back, his face bright with excitement. “She said… she’s coming!”

The Blairs let out a collective breath. Edward was stable for now, but the expert was eight hours away by plane.

No one could promise he’d hold on, and their nerves stayed on edge.

The next morning, outside the operating room, the Blair family paced in a frenzy. Edward’s life hung in the balance inside, and all their hopes rested on Cedric’s mysterious mentor.

Byron’s brows were furrowed, his sharp eyes scanning the hallway. Then, two people appeared—one tall, one small.

Byron’s gaze snapped to them. Then he recognized that the tall one was Sylvia!

Three years since their divorce, and they hadn’t seen each other once.

Sylvia wore a sharp blue dress, her presence cool and commanding, nothing like the quiet woman she used to be.

“Mom, I’m hungry!” A little girl beside Sylvia whined in a sweet, lilting voice, her big, bright eyes blinking up cutely.

Sylvia pulled a bottle from her bag and handed it to the girl with a gentle smile. “Ruby, be good. When I’m done, we’ll get something tasty, okay?”

“Thanks, Mom!” Ruby’s face lit up, her smile pure sunshine.

Byron’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening. He couldn’ve believe that, after just three years, Sylvia had remarried and had a kid.

Sylvia looked up, catching sight of the Blairs. Her face flickered for a moment before settling back into calm indifference. She wasn’t here for them—she was here to save a life.

The moment Liana saw Sylvia, she stormed forward, eyes flashing. “Sylvia, what are you doing here?”

She yelled fiercely, “You’ve been gone three years, and now you show up? Let me be clear: you divorced Byron, so don’t even think about weaseling back into this family!”

Sylvia’s lips curled into a sharp, mocking smile. “No worries, ma’am. I don’t take back trash I’ve already tossed.”

“You…” Liana’s face turned red with fury, her whole body shaking. “You little punk! Three years, and you’ve gotten cocky!”

“Who’s that?” Byron asked, his voice low and sharp. His piercing eyes flicked to the girl beside Sylvia, digging for answers.

“My daughter,” Sylvia said, lifting Ruby into her arms, her gaze softening with warmth and protectiveness.

“Mom, who are they?” Ruby asked, her voice shaky as she glanced at the Blairs. “They look so mean!” She hid her face in Sylvia’s neck.

Sylvia rubbed Ruby’s back gently. “Don’t be afraid, Ruby. When your daddy gets here, he’ll keep you safe.”

Her words were a direct jab at Byron, and he stiffened. The hit landed hard.

He knew he’d been careful about protection back then—Ruby couldn’t be his.