The Strong-Willed Sean O'Connor

CHAPTER 3

Sean stood in the elevator, his face expressionless. He slid the necklace through the ring and fastened it around his neck—the only way to protect it.

He glanced at the ring in his palm, a deep sigh escaping him. Four years of marriage, gone in an instant. It had felt like a union, not just a contract, but now it seemed like he’d been living in a fantasy—one where love was supposed to be enough. 

Instead, it had become a checklist of obligations until everything fell apart.

The elevator doors dinged open. Sean stepped out and headed for the exit. Halfway there, his phone rang.

He checked the screen: Richard Calloway.

“Mr. O’Connor, this is Richard Calloway from Benton Corporation,” the voice on the line said.

“I know.”

“Congratulations on your anniversary! The reservation is secured. When will you and Mrs. O’Connor arrive?”

Anniversary. The word hit him like a punch.

He froze, staring at the floor. He had reserved a table for the occasion, but after her call and the divorce agreement, it had slipped his mind.

“Mr. O’Connor?” Richard prompted.

“We won’t be coming. Cancel the reservation. And the gift too—I won’t need it.”

A brief pause. “Are you sure? It’s your anniversary, after all. This was supposed to be special.”

“I’m sure,” Sean snapped. “But let me ask—did you call about the reservation, or is there something else?”

“Well…” Richard hesitated. “Titan Technologies was hacked. Their entire system’s compromised. Experts can’t fix it. Could you help?”

Sean leaned against the wall, a smirk forming. “You know my terms, Mr. Calloway.”

Richard quickly added, “There’s a project at Titan—bioinformatics research into rare medicinal plants. It could change medicine, but the data’s at risk. Help us, and you’ll get access.”

Sean’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll help. But my terms are clear: full access, no interference.”

“Agreed,” Richard said without hesitation.

“I’ll take a look,” Sean replied, more interested in the research than the money.

“Thank you, Mr. O’Connor! I’ll send someone to pick you up. Just send your location.”

Sean paused, then nodded. “I’ll send it in a few minutes. I have somewhere to be first.”

“Alright, take your time.”

Despite running Benton Corporation, Richard always sounded nervous around Sean.

The call ended. Sean exhaled, his frown deepening. How long would he have to chase endless research?

Minutes later, he stood in front of the Springfield family home. He hated the house, but he had always liked coming back because of Rosalind. Now, with the divorce finalized, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to go inside.

‘My stuff’s still in there,’ he thought. ‘I should get it.’

But then he shook his head. He didn’t need it. He could replace anything inside.

Just as he turned to leave, someone at the window spotted him. A smirk spread across their faces.

Before Sean could move, three figures rushed out of the mansion, frowns plastered on their faces.

He turned, recognizing Rosalind's mother, Eleanor, her brother Julian, and her sister Lillian.

“Mom? Julian, Lillian? Why are you all outside?” Sean asked, confused by their urgency.

Eleanor’s glare cut into him.

“Why are you still calling me ‘Mom’?” she snapped. “Didn’t you and Rosalind get a divorce?”

“We did,” Sean said, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t blame her. She had her reasons.”

He didn’t know all the reasons, but he didn’t want to throw her under the bus. He had hoped to part peacefully.

Eleanor sneered.

“Blame her? She did the right thing, divorcing trash like you,” she spat. “And as for her reasons—it's clear you were at fault. I used to wonder how she stayed with you for so long. Glad she finally woke up and saw what you were doing.”

Sean’s jaw tightened. ‘What the hell is she talking about? He had done nothing. Still, he stayed calm.

“I’m sure I did nothing that would justify a divorce, Mom.”

Eleanor let out a cold laugh, her eyes narrowing with mock amusement.

“Of course you didn’t. Poor little Sean, always the victim. You really think doing nothing is something to be proud of? No wonder she left you. You were about as useful in that marriage as a broken chair—just sitting there, taking up space.”

Sean stiffened. “Aren’t you going too far?”

She didn’t flinch.

He knew she didn’t like him, but this? Acting like he tore the marriage apart single-handedly?

If he hadn’t stepped in to clean up their family’s messes, they wouldn’t be where they were now. And after everything he did, after all his sacrifices—this was how they saw him?

Just a broken chair?

Seriously?

“What the hell do you mean by ‘going too far’?” Lillian snapped, eyes blazing. “Isn’t she just telling the truth?”

Sean stared at her. Arms folded, lips pursed—she looked like a younger, sharper version of Rosalind, but with fire instead of grace.

“If anything,” Julian added smugly, stepping forward, “you should send Rosalind a thank-you card for lasting as long as she did. That woman deserves a medal.”

“And now that you’re here,” Lillian said coldly, “I hope you’re not planning to take anything from the house.”

Sean blinked, stunned. Was this actually happening?

“That’s right,” Eleanor chimed in, arms crossed. “You and Rosalind are divorced. Coming here to take anything? That’s just plain diabolical.”

“It’s not like you paid for anything in there anyway,” Julian scoffed. The others nodded in agreement.

“What? What are you talking about?” Sean’s voice rose with disbelief.

Everything he had, he’d bought himself. Rosalind hadn’t given him a thing—except for one birthday shirt. That was it.

“Why pretend?” Lillian’s voice turned icy. “We all know you’ve been getting an allowance from Rosalind every month.”

“And not only that!” Julian added, practically shouting. “She said she’s giving you five million in alimony! Plus a condo in downtown Manhattan!”

Eleanor nodded, a smug smile curving her lips. “Now that you’re here, you can give back everything she handed you.”

“What are you talking about?” Sean frowned, confusion flashing across his face. “What allowance? I never took money from Rosalind.”

He couldn’t even remember her offering him any kind of allowance. Where were they getting this from?

Hearing his response, Eleanor’s glare deepened.

“How long are you going to play dumb?!” she shouted. “You fed off my daughter for years, and now you think you deserve luxury? You’re an ungrateful brat! Living off her, taking everything, and now acting like you owe her nothing? You’re a parasite—leeching off Rosalind’s wealth with nothing to give in return! Now, give it back!”