I couldn't hold back a cold laugh.
Thirty million was nothing.
In my last life, I only found out after I died: Amelia had taken out a massive insurance policy on me.
The moment I died in that ring, she'd collect a hundred million.
I nodded, playing the man who'd accepted his fate.
"Fine. Once we file for the divorce, I'll go."
Something smug flickered through Amelia's eyes.
Then she made up an excuse about creditors coming to cause trouble and sweet-talked me right out of the house.
I didn't care. I turned and went straight to Carter.
Carter had known since dawn that oil had crashed, and he was pacing in circles, frantic.
I, on the other hand, calmly pulled up the security feed from home.
All those years boxing away from home, I'd worried about the place, so I'd installed cameras with no blind spots.
Never thought they'd come in this handy.
On the feed, the second I walked out the door, Amelia and Percival were locked together, going at each other's mouths.
Something curdled in my chest.
When she was with me, Amelia always said she was cold-blooded about that sort of thing, that she could barely manage it once every six months, that even holding hands put her out.
Now here she was, burning like a torch.
When they finally came up for air, Amelia spat out furiously,
"Neal, that piece of garbage. Racks up a billion in debt without a word to anyone."
"Good thing you found a way to make him divorce me on his own, or he'd have dragged me down with him."
Percival held her close, pleased with himself.
"Don't be upset, baby. Once the divorce is final, Neal goes to Thailand, fights in that ring, and dies in it."
"Then we collect a hundred and thirty million!"
"After that I throw a little of it into some investment, and we're set for life."
Amelia looked at him like he'd hung the moon.
"You're the one with the real talent."
"So much better than Neal, that useless idiot who only knows how to throw punches."
Holding the file Carter had dug up on Percival, I nearly laughed out loud.
Amelia. When you find out who Percival really is, I wonder what your face will look like.
The month passed fast.
Bright and early, Amelia and I arrived at the county clerk's office.
Amelia put on a face full of reluctance.
"Neal, I don't want to let you go either, but I have to think about the children."
A whole month of watching her and Percival carry on had left me sick to my stomach.
I nearly threw up on the spot.
I couldn't be bothered to act with her anymore.
"Enough. Let's just get the papers done."
Amelia hadn't expected that from me.
She froze for a second.
Then, uneasy, she pressed,
"So are you still going to Thailand to fight?"
"Yeah. Definitely."
I brushed it off, though inside I was burning with impatience.
Last night the United States had suddenly moved on Landore, and by this morning oil prices had shot through the roof.
If I didn't get these papers signed fast, the second they caught on, there was no way they'd let Amelia divorce me.
Lucky for me, the whole family had gotten dead drunk last night, celebrating that they'd finally be rid of me today.
I was the one who couldn't wait, the one who drove over to pick Amelia up. Everyone else was still passed out.
I pulled Amelia inside and shoved the divorce agreement across the counter, unable to wait a second longer.
The clerk gave us a glance, picked up the seal, and moved to stamp the divorce certificate.
Amelia's phone suddenly went off like it was on fire.
The moment she answered, Percival's panicked shouting came pouring out.
"Amelia, don't do it, don't get divorced! Oil jumped thirty percent this morning!"
Amelia's face changed in an instant.
She lunged at the clerk, shrieking,
"Stop! Don't stamp it!"
I crowded forward too, my throat so tight I could barely get the words out.
"Stamp it, hurry, don't listen to her!"
The clerk's brow knotted at all our noise.
His hand paused, and he lifted his head, irritated.
He picked up the divorce certificate and flung it at us.
Amelia and I both scrambled to look at the spot where the certificate had been stamped.
