Her New Lover Made Me Sign the Divorce Papers

The year I loved her most, my mother forced me to break up.

The year I hated her most, I crippled her father and made her sign a letter of apology.

And in that same year, a man I’d never seen before barged into my house, slammed a divorce agreement on the table, and sneered:

“God has punished her by marrying someone she doesn’t love. Now she’s carrying my child. If you know what’s good for you, sign it.”

I turned to Aveline.

“Really?”

She hesitated—half a minute of silence that said everything. I dropped the iron rod at my feet.

“Abortion, or watching me beat him to death. Your choice.”

Without flinching, she told the bodyguard, “Book me an abortion.”

I struck her across the face.

“No. You’ll do it yourself.”

——

Her fists clenched, veins rising on her temples.

“Gideon, that’s enough!”

“Enough? Killing isn’t enough. After all, that’s my flesh and blood.”

Laurent Hale, pale moments ago, suddenly straightened, clinging to her like a shield. His delicate hands were spotless, unlike mine—scarred by blades, guns, and years of bloodshed. She’d kept him untouched, sheltered, and yet foolish enough to bring him here.

“Brother, do you hear me? Aveline won’t hurt me or our child. You’ve been married to her for five years without giving her a son. Don’t you get it? We’re just offering you a way out—”

His words dissolved into screams. By the time Aveline blinked, he was on the floor, darts buried in his groin and knees.

I lit a cigarette with the divorce agreement, exhaling a ring of smoke as I admired him writhing in blood.

“She never told you, did she? I only go up, never down. I crippled her father once—who the hell are you to me?”

The bodyguard leaned in and whispered that Laurent’s groin was destroyed.

“Good. Cut it off. Let’s see what kind of ‘taste’ our President Drayton really has.”

“Gideon!”

Cold steel pressed against my throat. Aveline Drayton’s eyes burned crimson.

“Don’t drag Laurent into your madness! He isn’t like us. Must you be this ruthless?!”

That fury—I’d seen it once before, when my mother forced me to leave her. She’d turned those eyes on my family, driven my mother insane, and laughed when I crippled her father. Back then, she had whispered to me with blood on her lips:

“Yes, Gideon, that’s it. Be as crazy as me, as brutal as me. Then no one will say we aren’t a match.”

But now? She was crying over her angel.

I stroked the edge of her blade with my fingertips and smiled.

“I gave you a chance. You refused. Husband and wife are one—so I did it for you. Look at him now: your lover can’t even crawl. He’s nothing but a dog.”

The crack of shattering glass split the air.

I picked up a jagged shard and pressed it against her arm, dragging it until blood bloomed.

The room reeked of iron. Her gasps mingled with his howls.

Guns cocked, dark muzzles aimed at me from all sides. I only shrugged, pressing the shard closer to her artery, hands steady as ever.