For a few seconds, he just stared at me. Then his expression hardened, and a cold, mocking smile twisted his lips.
"Samantha, don't be stupid. You don't have a cent to your name. Leave me, and you'll be sleeping on the street tonight—you and that baby both."
I lifted my gaze to meet his. Held it.
"The baby isn't yours anyway," I said, ice in every syllable. "Why do you care?"
The mockery hit its mark.
Cyril's face contorted—Loss control, reached for the fury beneath it. He snatched the divorce papers from his assistant's hands and signed with such force the pen nearly tore through the page.
I reached for the document to add my own signature, but before the ink could dry—
He ripped it from my grasp.
"Ungrateful bitch."
He jabbed a finger toward the hospital entrance, veins bulging at his temple.
"Get out. Get out of my hospital. Now."
I held my daughter close and headed for the exit.
Beep beep—
A sleek black car idled across the street. I quickened my pace toward it.
But before I could take more than a few steps, two bodyguards materialized out of nowhere and dragged me back inside.
"Did you see the trending topics? Mrs. Sanchez was forced into a divorce—all because of that adopted sister."
"What a vile sister-in-law. Accusing her own brother's wife of cheating? I'd expose her online too."
The hospital buzzed with the same conversation at every turn.
This had Ruth's fingerprints all over it.
What I couldn't figure out was why she'd deliberately thrown herself into the eye of the storm.
Then Cyril's palm cracked across my face—no questions asked, no explanation sought.
"Samantha, I never knew you could be this vicious." His voice was ice and venom. "No wonder you were so eager to sign those divorce papers. You'd planned to destroy Ruth all along, hadn't you? Playing the sympathy card with your postpartum divorce story, dragging me into your scheme—you're despicable."
"The press will be here any minute. You will apologize to Ruth publicly. Do you have any idea how brutal the comments are? She's still so young—if I hadn't gotten here in time, your little stunt would've pushed her to slit her wrists!"
On the hospital bed, Ruth sat perfectly upright.
Whole. Unharmed. Not so much as a pink mark on her wrists.
A person pretending to sleep will never wake, no matter how loud you call.
Besides—someone was waiting for me.
"No need to make this complicated."