Herminia stared at the man standing tall and self-righteous in front of her. A cold, empty smile touched her lips.
That smile made Bradley's jaw tighten. He reached out to grab her shoulder.
Herminia twisted away, fast. She dodged his hand like it was contagious.
Bradley's arm hung in the air. His face darkened to an ugly purple. "Stop making a scene out of nothing."
Herminia just looked at him. "In these three years of marriage, Bradley... did you ever actually love me?"
The massive living room went silent. Only the faint hum of the air conditioning filled the space.
Bradley raked a hand through his hair, staring at the floor. "We're legally married. Talking about love is childish."
That answer landed like a door slamming shut. Herminia's hands trembled once. She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath.
When she opened them, every trace of softness was gone. Only flat, hard resolve remained.
She turned her back to him and walked to the mahogany desk by the window. She pulled open the top drawer.
Bradley frowned at her back. "What kind of trick are you playing now?"
Herminia pulled out a thick document. She walked back and slapped it onto the glass coffee table.
The bold black letters on the cover read: DIVORCE AGREEMENT.
Bradley glanced down and let out a harsh scoff. He thought this was another pathetic tactic to get his attention. He dropped onto the sofa, crossed his long legs, and looked up at her with pure arrogance. "I'm not signing that. Stop this nonsense."
Herminia picked up a silver fountain pen, pulled off the cap, and held it out to him.
"I'm giving up the Manhattan penthouse," she said, voice flat. "I'm giving up all dividend shares in Elliott Capital."
The arrogant smirk on Bradley's face cracked. He stared at her, eyes narrowing.
"I don't want a single cent of alimony. I'm leaving with nothing. Just sign the paper."
Those words ignited something violent inside him. He shot up from the sofa and closed the distance in a second. He grabbed her chin, fingers digging into her skin, and glared down at her. "Do not play hard-to-get with me, Herminia."
Herminia didn't flinch. She met his furious gaze and slapped his hand away with all her strength.
"Consider these three years fed to the dogs," she said, pronouncing every word. "I think you are dirty."
The word "dirty" snapped something in Bradley. He let out a dark, furious laugh and pointed a shaking finger toward the front door.
"You think you can survive without me? A woman who didn't even finish high school? You'll be begging on the streets in a week!"
Herminia didn't argue. She simply pushed the divorce papers closer to his side of the table.
Bradley felt utterly humiliated. He snatched his suit jacket from the rack. "You'll cry and beg me to take you back," he spat.
He turned and stormed toward the entryway. The heavy oak door slammed with a massive bang. The walls vibrated.
Herminia stood alone in the empty living room. Her eyes were dry. She turned and walked toward the bedroom to pack.
