I shifted my gaze to the woman, who was calmly adjusting her dress. "And this way, she can take my place."
Compared to Jonah's visible panic, the woman remained composed. She stepped forward, smoothing her dress with practiced ease and extended her hand toward me.
"Hello, Mrs. Robert. My name is Violet, Mr. Robert's assistant."
Her voice was smooth and self-assured, a honeyed facade that only deepened my disdain. I didn't even glance at her, keeping my eyes locked on Jonah. His posture was rigid, his jaw clenched, as if bracing for my next move.
"Hurry up and sign the papers," I said, my tone cold and detached. "Before coming here, I've packed my things and moved out of the house. My lawyer will handle the rest."
Each word was delivered with finality and I watched as Jonah's expression shifted from disbelief to simmering rage. Without waiting for his response, I turned on my heel, ready to leave the suffocating office.
But Jonah's hand shot out, gripping my wrist tightly. His strength caught me off guard and I stumbled slightly as he blocked my path. "Sasha," he growled, his voice low and threatening, "what on earth has gotten into you? If you want a divorce, at least give me a reason! Haven't I treated you well enough? Do you even realize how many women would kill to be Mrs. Robert?"
I yanked my arm free with a sharp motion, the sting of his grip lingering on my skin. The fire that had been burning inside me erupted as I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the office, silencing even the subdued hum of the city outside.
Jonah staggered back slightly, his cheek reddening with the imprint of my hand. His eyes widened in shock, more at my audacity than the pain. I met his gaze, my voice trembling with anger but steady in its resolve.
"Jonah, you've got no shame. Do you really need me to spell it out for you? For the past year and a half, who is this Rosa you keep calling out for? And who is the rose tattoo on your chest really meant for?"
The corner of his lip curled into a sneer as he tilted his head, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. "So you know?" he said, a mocking lilt in his voice. "I was wondering what this was all about. Sasha, let me tell you something—being a stand-in for Rosa is a blessing. You should be grateful! Otherwise, who do you think you are? How could you ever compare to her?"