Second Chance: Secret Billionaire Heir

The Smile That Broke Every Expectation

Celine Hart continued scolding Nathan as if the world owed her endless sympathy. Lyria stood beside her mother, mimicking the same angry posture, arms crossed while glaring at the man who had raised her for years. Their combined hostility flooded the living room with tension sharp enough to slice through any remaining warmth between them.

“You never try hard enough,” Celine snapped while waving her phone. “I endured your laziness longer than anyone should. I’m done pretending this marriage still works. I want a divorce.”

She delivered those words with confidence dripping from every syllable. For several seconds, she simply waited, fully expecting Nathan to collapse into panic. Under normal circumstances, the old Nathan would have apologized immediately, begged for another chance, and desperately tried to hold onto the family he cherished so much. That was the pattern she relied upon for eight long years.

Nathan looked at her calmly.

“All right,” he replied.

Two simple words dismantled every expectation Celine held.

She blinked. “What did you say?”

“I agree,” he repeated without hesitation.

Lyria gasped softly. The child’s expression shifted quickly from shock to glee. She leaned toward her mother and tugged her sleeve with excitement lighting her eyes. “Does this mean I can live with Tristan soon?”

Celine did not respond to Lyria. Instead, she stared at Nathan as if confronting a stranger. The man who once clung to their marriage with unwavering devotion now accepted their separation without argument. Her lips parted slightly, unable to hide her surprise. Something inside her twisted with unexpected discomfort.

That reaction annoyed her.

Nathan turned away from their shared confusion and walked toward the staircase. His movements remained composed, almost peaceful, like someone finishing a routine task rather than ending a marriage. The shift unsettled Celine more than she wished to admit.

She called after him. “Nathan… where are you going?”

“To pack,” he replied evenly.

Celine unconsciously bit her lower lip. The urge to demand further explanation rose inside her, yet she forced the emotion down. She reminded herself that separating from Nathan would give her freedom. She convinced herself Tristan could offer a life that matched her ambitions. Despite that reasoning, dissatisfaction lingered beneath her composed exterior.

Her memories drifted toward the past—back to that moment eight years ago when Nathan defied Alistair Veylor, a powerful father whose influence reached far across business territories. Nathan had thrown away a rising career, choosing her above every opportunity available. He fought against enormous pressure to marry her. He sacrificed everything to stay with her.

Yet now he walked away without resistance.

Her chest tightened in ways she refused to acknowledge.

Nathan entered the bedroom they once shared and pulled a small suitcase from the closet. He packed several shirts, two pairs of trousers, a thin jacket, and a few necessities. His collection of personal belongings was minimal, reflecting years of prioritizing his family's needs above his own. The house held expensive furniture, large appliances, and extravagant décor chosen by Celine, but Nathan’s clothes fit into a single small case.

He zipped the suitcase quietly.

Celine watched from the hallway, confusion swirling behind her critical glare. She had always known Nathan rarely spent money on himself. He saved every extra cent, never purchasing anything unnecessary. However, when household expenses emerged—school supplies, repairs, utilities, food, medical fees—Nathan handled them immediately, always placing familial comfort above personal desires.

Even now, that knowledge irritated her. She refused to soften.

When Nathan approached the door with his suitcase, Celine blocked his path. Her posture tightened, and her breath echoed with agitation. “Are you really doing this? You’re not pretending? You’re actually accepting the divorce?”

“Yes,” he answered with a gentle smile.

That smile pushed Celine’s frustration to the edge. She felt insulted by his calm acceptance. The expression on his face suggested he had waited for this moment, even though she remembered every instance he clung to their relationship in the past. He used to beg her to stay whenever she threatened to leave. He fought for their marriage with naive sincerity. The contrast felt unreal, almost offensive.

Before she could argue again, the doorbell rang. Celine flinched, then quickly regained composure. When she opened the entrance, Darren Hart and Nira Hart stormed inside without invitation, their expressions seething with contempt directed entirely at Nathan.

Darren pointed a rigid finger toward Nathan’s chest. “You useless man. I knew this would happen sooner or later. You made my daughter carry the entire financial burden while you lounged around this house.”

Nira joined immediately, eager to amplify the insult. “She deserves better. She deserves someone capable, someone respectable, someone who actually works instead of depending on her. Honestly, Nathan, you held her back for far too long.”

Celine did not interrupt them. Their voices validated her frustrations, strengthening her sense of superiority. Lyria watched with innocent enthusiasm, unaware of the cruelty unfolding before her.

Nathan remained still. Their words carried no weight anymore. Memories of Tristan’s betrayal, Celine’s infidelity, and Lyria’s true lineage shielded him from their insults. Darren and Nira had no idea what their daughter had done. They lacked any awareness about the hidden truth concerning their granddaughter.

He could have revealed everything in that moment. He could have dismantled Celine’s fabricated reputation with one sentence. The scandal would have destroyed her career instantly. Morraine Group would panic. Tristan would fall. Lyria’s biological identity would shake the foundation of the Hart family.

But Nathan felt no desire to retaliate—not here, not now.

They no longer mattered to him.

He wanted a fresh beginning, far from their suffocating influence. His future path no longer tied itself to this household. A lingering ember of strength, born from tragedy and rebirth, burned inside him with growing intensity.

“You two can continue believing whatever you want,” Nathan said quietly. “It doesn’t concern me anymore.”

Darren scoffed loudly. “Listen to him, acting brave now that he’s finally leaving. Don’t try twisting the story. This separation is entirely your fault.”

Nira folded her arms smugly. “Celine is liberating herself from a burden. She will have a brighter future without you dragging her down.”

Nathan looked at Celine one final time. Her expression remained conflicted, though she hid behind a mask of anger. He released a slow breath and stepped around her.

“No one is dragging anyone down,” he murmured. “This chapter simply ends here.”

Then he carried his suitcase down the steps and walked toward the street with measured strides. He had only a small amount of cash in his wallet, but money meant little compared to the sense of freedom washing over him. His life was no longer bound to a woman who despised his existence.

The air felt different outside—lighter, colder, realer. A faint breeze brushed against his cheek, almost as if urging him forward.

While walking, the sound of an approaching engine echoed down the road. A sleek black vehicle, polished to perfection, slowed beside him. The tinted window shifted smoothly downward, revealing a refined interior illuminated by subtle lighting.

The rear door opened automatically.

Two figures sat inside.

Kade Veylor, dressed in an immaculate suit, regarded Nathan with an unreadable expression. The elderly patriarch’s sharp gaze held more power than any boardroom executive Nathan had ever encountered. Beside him, Aurora Blackwell offered a respectful nod, her calm presence balancing Kade’s intimidating aura.

Aurora’s eyes carried a hint of warmth, as though she had waited for this moment longer than she dared admit. Kade’s posture suggested preparation—like someone anticipating the arrival of an important individual.

Nathan paused on the sidewalk, stunned.

He had known Kade only as a polite acquaintance who occasionally visited during his childhood. He never understood the true significance of the man’s presence. He never understood why Kade paid attention to him. And Aurora… she had always been kind whenever their paths crossed, yet her involvement today felt quite deliberate.

Kade extended a hand slightly, motioning toward the open door.

“Come inside,” he said with a tone that allowed no refusal. “We have waited long enough.”

Aurora gave a small encouraging smile. “Your seat is ready.”

Their words did not sound like polite offers.

They sounded like welcoming statements delivered to a long-anticipated successor—someone destined to reclaim a place inside a world far greater than the home he had just left behind.

Nathan stared at the open door.

Then he stepped forward and entered the vehicle, leaving his former life behind without looking back.