The bodyguards rushed in.
Just before I lost consciousness, someone shoved a divorce agreement into my hand.
So men truly could be ruthless—when they chose to act, it was swift and merciless.
I shoved the papers back at the bodyguard.
"Burn it."
I've always been stubborn.
When I was a child, my father told me if I didn't obey, he'd beat me to death. I stiffened my neck and courted death anyway.
When I grew up, I swore to live and die with Derek. Eight months pregnant, I had stormed into a rival's den, wielding a machete to save him.
And now? I had said it before—the last divorce negotiation was his only chance.
He refused.
Then from this moment on, my marriage has only two outcomes: widowhood, or nothing at all.
—
When I woke up, Penelope was already discharged, safe and sound.
This time, she sent over a file.
The bodyguard handed me her handwritten letter.
Her delicate script carried a smug arrogance that bled through every stroke.
[Did you really think Derek still had feelings for you? Are you curious why he loves me and not you?]
[You probably don't even know who I am yet, do you? Well, I've got a surprise for you~]
I tore open the file, and my breath hitched.
