We stared at each other, neither willing to back down.
Until my vision blurred, he finally sighed.
"You've been by my side all these years. I thought you'd have some understanding of others," he said.
"Reina, you really disappoint me."
His words hit me like a punch to the chest.
My eyelashes trembled, and tears slipped down my cheeks.
For him, I had abandoned the perfect life my parents planned for me. I even learned to cook and manage the household.
I gave up a carefree, indulgent past to force myself into the rigid, tedious world of refinement and elegance.
The thing I had worked hardest at in this life was shaping my entire personality into someone who could stand beside him.
I thought he would feel it, deep down.
But all I received was disappointment.
Nevertheless, I refused to let myself fall apart.
I wiped my tears, retrieved a slightly yellowed document from the study, and tossed it in front of them.
"Then let's get a divorce."
The room fell silent. The man let out a soft, almost mocking laugh. "Put it away. You'll need it again next time."
The ridicule in his voice was like a needle stabbing straight into my ear.
Claire, who had looked embarrassed moments ago, actually laughed aloud upon hearing that.
My nails dug into my palm. The last flicker of light inside me died out.
This agreement... Lyndon had prepared it himself.
Six months into our marriage, he had proposed divorce.
That day had been the darkest in my life.
I had grown up spoiled, sheltered, never knowing how cruel human hearts could be. I couldn't understand why the little tree I nurtured with all my warmth was suddenly withering, even though I had given him enough water, sunlight, and love.
I cried until I couldn't breathe, using both kindness and force to beg him not to divorce me.
In the end, he gave in.
After that, I gave him status, money, resources—the best of everything.
Gradually, I learned to control my emotions.
Slowly, his eyes toward me began to soften.
But my sense of security only dwindled further.
So I took out the divorce agreement again and again.
At first, he coaxed me helplessly.
Later, he would only frown and tell me not to be dramatic.
Now... He still thought I was using it as a ploy to win his affection.
I slid the ring off my finger and tossed it into the trash can.
"There won't be a next time."
Before leaving, I notified Miranda Corporation's lawyers to prepare for the division of assets.
I also had someone come over to tally the clothes and items Claire had damaged and request compensation accordingly.
Once everything was set, I opened the group chat with my friends.
[Tonight at the Red Pavilion. My treat. Who's in?]
The Red Pavilion was New York's most decadent hotspot, infamous for its extravagance.
My message detonated the chat.
[What's going on? Ms. Miranda isn't playing the dutiful wife anymore?]
[Isn't your husband the type who hates you going to places like that?]
[I already took a screenshot. If you back out tonight, I'll send it straight to your iron-faced husband.]
I typed calmly. [Divorce is already in motion.]
A ripple effect exploded through the group chat.
After casually replying to a couple messages, I closed my phone.
Before heading to the Red Pavilion, I stopped by a beauty salon.
With striking makeup, a black backless gown, and heels that clicked like a declaration, I walked into the private room.
My thoughtful friends had even arranged a row of handsome male escort.
