Goodbye Ex Husband - The Real Heiress Has Returned

Chapter 4

Outside the grand, gilded entrance of the Grand Bellevue Restaurant in the heart of the financial district, the afternoon sun gleamed off the pristine paint of parked luxury vehicles.

Seraphina stood on the top step of the marble plaza, looking entirely breathtaking. She was clad in a custom-tailored, backless beige silk dress that clung to her figure with effortless sophistication. Her long, dark hair fell in deep waves over her shoulders, her lips were painted in a striking, unapologetic shade of crimson, and expensive blue-tinted sunglasses masked her eyes.

Passersby, high-end shoppers, and wealthy businessmen paused as they walked past, casting intrigued glances in her direction, whispering among themselves and wondering if she was a visiting European heiress or an international film star.

“Excuse me,” a young boutique assistant had said to her only an hour earlier, trailing behind her with an armful of garment bags, “may I ask who styled you? I’ve never seen anyone wear that cut so well.”

“No one styled me.” Seraphina had answered simply, examining herself in the mirror as though meeting a stranger for the first time.

For three long years, she had worn drab, oversized clothes, muted tones, and zero makeup, intentionally dulling her own light so as not to overshadow Sebastian or draw unwanted attention from his corporate social circles. Standing here now, stepping back into her true skin felt like taking her very first breath of fresh air after years underwater.

A sleek, black Maybach accompanied by two heavy armored SUVs pulled up to the curb, cutting off traffic with absolute authority.

Seraphina’s gaze sharpened behind her dark lenses as the rear door opened. Recognizing the intimidating security detail that began pouring out, her lips twitched upward in annoyance. She turned on her heel, preparing to slip away before a scene could break out.

She took two steps before four massive, suit-clad bodyguards smoothly materialized around her, blocking every escape route with military precision.

“Move,” she commanded, her tone dropping into a cold, authoritative hum that caught the guards off guard.

Before the men could respond, a firm, heavy hand clamped around her waist from behind. With embarrassing ease, Roman Frost hoisted his younger sister over his broad shoulder like a sack of rice.

“Hey! Let me down right now, Roman!” Seraphina hissed, beating her fist against his back as onlookers gasped in absolute shock. “People are looking! I am not a child!”

“You acted like one for three years,” Roman replied calmly, completely unbothered as he carried her toward the open door of the Maybach. “Consider this your punishment.”

“I had a lunch reservation!”

“Cancelled. You’re having lunch with me instead.”

“That’s k********g, Roman.”

“Family reunions don’t count as k********g,” he said, finally setting her down onto the plush leather seat inside the car and sliding in beside her, unbothered by the glare she leveled at him. “Besides, you’ve had worse things happen to you this week than being carried to a car by your own brother.”

That silenced her.

From across the avenue, stepping out of a rival financial institution, was Kevin Vance, Sebastian’s long-time friend and business partner. Kevin stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he witnessed the commotion across the street.

He stared at the striking woman in the beige dress being effortlessly handled by the personal security force of the Frost Conglomerate. He zoomed in with his phone camera, took three rapid-fire photos, and instantly sent them straight to Sebastian’s private chat.

Kevin: [Image Attached]

Kevin: “Bro, tell me I’m losing my mind. Isn’t this your wife? Who the hell is the guy throwing her into a Maybach??”

Miles away, sitting in the backseat of his town car on his way to an emergency board meeting, Sebastian’s phone buzzed. He picked it up with an irritated scowl, expecting another update from his PR team.

He clicked the image, and his breath caught violently in his throat.

The woman in the photo was radiant, wearing bold red lipstick, high heels, and a dress that showed off a stunning silhouette. She looked confident, wealthy, and completely out of reach. But there was no mistaking those features, that sharp jawline, or that proud tilt of her chin.

It was Seraphina.

Red lipstick? Designer dresses? Publicly mingling with high-society men?

A sudden, sharp pang of jealousy and confusion slammed into Sebastian’s chest, so intense it made his hands shake. The image of another man touching her, lifting her, and driving away with her sent a wave of furious dark heat rushing to his brain.

He called Kevin immediately, not bothering with a greeting. “Where did you see her? When?”

“Like two minutes ago, outside Grand Bellevue,” Kevin said. “Sebastian, that car had Frost Conglomerate plates. Do you understand what that means? Do you even know who Roman Frost is?”

“I know exactly who Roman Frost is,” Sebastian snapped. “Everyone in this industry knows who Roman Frost is. What I don’t understand is why he’s putting his hands on my wife.”

“Maybe you should ask her that,” Kevin said carefully. “You’ve barely mentioned her in three years, man. I didn’t even know her maiden name until right now.”

Sebastian said nothing to that, his jaw clenched so tight it ached. He hung up and immediately dialed Elliot’s number.

“Elliot! Drop whatever you are doing. I need a full trace on my wife’s known associates and any connection to the Frost Conglomerate. Find out who she really is.”

“Sir,” Elliot said hesitantly, “with respect, shouldn’t you simply ask her?”

“Just find the information, Elliot.”

Inside the spacious, leather-lined interior of the Maybach, Seraphina sat with her arms crossed, glaring across at her brother, who was casually reviewing financial documents on his tablet.

“I had everything under control, Roman,” she muttered, adjusting her sunglasses. “I didn’t need you putting on a show outside a public restaurant.”

Roman paused, setting the tablet down. His expression softened slightly, revealing the deep, protective warmth he held for his only sister.

“You disappeared for three years, Seraphina,” Roman said, his voice dropping into a low, serious register. “You cut off your family, abandoned your inheritance, and let a mid-tier corporate executive treat you like invisible garbage. Did you really think I was going to let you walk around this city alone after what happened last night?”

Seraphina’s defensive posture melted away. She swallowed hard, looking out the tinted window as the city lights blurred past.

“I thought I loved him,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I thought if I gave up everything, he would eventually see me.”

“And did he?” Roman asked quietly.

“No,” Seraphina admitted. “He never even tried.”

Roman reached across the seat, taking her small hand in his giant palm and giving it a firm squeeze. “He was blind. But the Frost family isn’t. You’re coming home, Seraphina. And by the time we are done, Sebastian Lloyd will realize exactly what kind of giant he dared to step on.”