A flash of guilt crossed Claire's face—gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by self-righteous indignation.

"Liam, what are you implying?" She straightened her spine. "Even if we are close, isn't that normal? We work together day and night. Ethan is like family. Like a younger brother."

She glared at me, eyes blazing. "Are you seriously jealous of a brother?"

I sneered. "Is that so?"

I leaned in, locking eyes with her. "Is that why you treat your 'good little brother' to special milk tea?"

Claire froze.

"Are you done?" she snapped, voice rising. "You're going to keep clinging to that nonsense? Is that all you have?"

"Fine! If it bothers you so much, I'll let you have some too!"

Claire's face flushed crimson, her voice shrill with humiliation and rage.

"No need," I said flatly. "The thought alone makes me sick."

"This won't do, that won't do—what exactly do you want?" She finally snapped.

"Divorce. How many times do I have to say it?"

Claire took a ragged breath, forcing her expression to soften. One last desperate play.

"Liam, please. I love you." Her eyes welled up. "Our daughter is so young. Do you really want her growing up in a broken home? As long as we don't divorce, I'll do anything."

The martyred wife, swallowing her pride for her family. Her performance painted me as the tyrant. Around the room, guests murmured in sympathy, casting judgmental glances my way.

In the shadows, Ethan's smug smirk vanished.

"Anything?" I repeated.

I looked past her, locking eyes with him. A slow smile curved my lips.

"Fine. We don't have to divorce."

Hope sparked in Claire's eyes.

"Fire him. Right now. Guarantee you'll never contact Ethan Matthews again. Do that, and the papers disappear."

The color drained from her face.

"You're being unreasonable," she hissed. "You've always been paranoid about Ethan. You can't stand that he's capable."

"I know exactly how capable he is." My tone cut like a scalpel. "I know your loyal assistant helps you with work. I also know he helps with your... personal needs. Relieves your stress. Handles your urgent problems."

I stepped closer, looming over her. "And as repayment, you treated him to a drink. Again and again."

I shifted my gaze between them, letting the implication hang.

I had intended to end this quietly. Leave them a shred of dignity. But Claire refused to let go, insisted on playing the victim.

If she didn't want dignity, I wouldn't force it on her.