At that very moment, my phone lit up with Raymond's furious call.
"Madeline! The trending news—you arranged it, didn't you? Delete it immediately!"
I said nothing. I simply hung up without a second of hesitation.
When his messages came flooding like bullets, I blocked him with one tap.
Still, they kept popping up on the screen, notification after notification.
Raymond: [Madeline, what are you trying to do? Do you realize how much damage this is causing the company? The stock price is already plummeting!]
[Maddy, I know you're angry, but can't we talk this through properly?]
[If that's what it takes, I'll apologize...]
Expressionless, I powered off the phone, set it face down on the table, and lifted my gaze to the lawyer across from me.
"Let's continue." I pulled out the old document I'd hidden away at the bottom of my drawer and slid it across the table.
"Please take a look. Is this divorce agreement still valid?"
Years ago, before our marriage meant anything, Raymond had personally signed this blank agreement.
At that time, his words had been ice-cold. "If you ever want to leave, just sign this. You'll always have the freedom to walk away."
I had thought it was a gesture of security, of trust.
Later, as our relationship deepened, he changed. The cold-hearted CEO cooked for me three times a day. He fussed over me endlessly—whether I was too cold, too hot, too tired. I believed it. I believed that kind of love could last a lifetime.
So I tucked the paper away, never once thinking of using it.
Until Dorothy appeared.
Other than his violent hatred for red, Raymond had treated me well enough. Even when I lost our child to his outburst, I forced myself to forgive. I could endure pain.
But I could never endure being made a fool.
The lawyer examined the agreement carefully, then nodded.
"Miss Alvares, this agreement is still valid. As long as you sign, it takes effect immediately."
I took the pen, signed my name, and pushed the paper back across the desk. "I want the divorce finalized—as quickly as possible."
When I walked out of the café, rain had begun to drizzle. A black car honked sharply in front of me.
It was Raymond's car. He rolled the window down, revealing his stern face.
"Get in."
I didn't pause, didn't even look at him, and kept walking past.
"Madeline!" He jumped out, grabbed my arm. "Are you still going to make a scene?"
My palm cracked against his cheek before I even thought about it. "Don't touch me. You disgust me."
He froze, staring at me with eyes that had gone cold, his gaze dropping to my flaming red dress. His brows twisted tightly together.
"Why must you oppose me in everything?"
"Maddy, wasn't our relationship always good before? Can't we go back to that?" His voice frayed, heavy with frustration. "Dory was lucky it was only superficial injuries. The baby's fine. But if something had happened—"
"If What then?" I cut him off. My voice was like ice. "If she'd lost the child, would you have killed me instead?"
"Madeline!" His shout was ragged. "How did you become like this?"
"How did I become like this?" My laugh was sharp and bitter. "Tell me, Raymond—did I change? Or was it you?"
His eyes, when they met mine, were full of exhaustion, full of disgust.
"Don't forget," I said, turning away. "It was you who betrayed me first."
I didn't want to waste another word. I walked off.
But he refused to let go, still chasing me down.
"That reporter—you set her up. Call her! Tell her to delete the video!"
So that was why he had come.
"Dory saw the article," he said, his tone accusatory, almost urgent. "She was so shaken she tried to throw herself off the building. It took me a long time to calm her down!"
