Amigo
11 Published Stories
Amigo's Books and Stories
Taming The Sinner: The Doctor’s Cold Game
Billionaires I stood before the double doors of the master suite, my hand hovering inches from the polished brass. As a surgeon, I was trained to steady my heart before a cut, but the silence in the Alexander estate felt like the heavy, oppressive pause that always preceded a scream.
I pushed the mahogany door open to find my fiancé, Authur, tangled in Egyptian cotton sheets with a woman named Jasmine. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and a floral perfume that wasn't mine—a brutal reality check just twenty-four hours before the merger meant to save my family from total ruin.
Authur didn't look guilty; he looked amused, coldly telling me to close the door because I was letting in a draft. When his parents unexpectedly arrived, I was forced to hide his mistress and pretend our "intensity" had ruined the room, donning his discarded shirt to look disheveled just to protect the Lawrence family stock price.
The humiliation only deepened on our wedding morning when Authur issued a sadistic ultimatum over the phone. "Wear your scrubs to the altar—the ones covered in blood—or I'll watch your father's company go belly up by lunch." He wanted to turn our wedding at St. Patrick’s Cathedral into a public execution of my dignity.
I walked down the aisle in shapeless navy cotton and crimson stains, enduring the horrified gasps of the elite who labeled me an "insane gold digger." Authur stood at the altar, reeking of whiskey and malice, certain he had finally broken me and turned my professional oath into a circus act.
But as the priest began the vows, I looked at the man who thought he owned me and realized I wasn't his victim—I was his surgeon. I had the footage of his debauchery ready to play for the world, and as we shared a punishing, hateful kiss for the cameras, I knew the real war had only just begun. Reborn To Reign: Choosing The Monster Over The Prince
Mafia The bullet tore through my chest, ending my life as the perfect mafia princess.
My fiancé, Connor Walls, watched me bleed out on the cold tile floor while he calmly cleaned his gun.
Standing beside him was my cousin Jana, the girl I trusted with my life, looking at him with adoration as I took my last breath.
I died realizing that the "Golden Prince" of the Chicago Outfit was actually a monster who had beaten me behind closed doors for years.
And the man I had been terrified of—his brother Brannon, the "Butcher"—was the only one who had ever truly protected me.
I died full of regret, hatred, and the metallic taste of blood.
But then, I gasped, my body jolting upright on a blue gym mat.
My skin was smooth. My heart was beating.
Connor stood above me, young and arrogant, offering me a hand.
I was twenty-one again.
The beatings, the betrayal, the murder—none of it had happened yet.
Connor smiled, thinking I was still the naive girl he planned to break and discard.
He thought I would walk into the Rite of Choice tonight and obediently become his property.
He was wrong.
That night, under the crystal chandeliers, the Don asked me to pledge myself to the heir.
The entire room held its breath, waiting for the rehearsed "I do."
I looked at Connor, then turned my gaze to the terrifying shadow in the corner.
"The debt requires a union with the Walls bloodline," I said, my voice steel. "It does not specify the heir."
I pointed at the monster everyone feared.
"I choose Brannon Walls." The Price Of A Mafia Queen
Mafia My marriage to Marco Ricci was a contract signed in blood, a promise to unite the two most powerful families on the East Coast. He was my future, the king chosen to rule beside me. Everyone said our union was destiny.
But he came home smelling of cheap perfume and another woman's lies. It was the scent of Angelia, the fragile orphan his family had taken in, the girl he swore he protected like a sister.
I followed him to a private club. From the shadows, I watched him pull her into his arms and give her a hungry, desperate kiss—a kiss he had never given me. In that instant, my entire future shattered.
I finally understood the whispers from his men that I was just a political prize, while Angelia was their true queen. He wanted my empire, but his heart belonged to her.
I would not be a consolation prize. I would not be second to anyone.
I walked straight into my father's study, my voice as cold as ice. "I'm calling off the wedding."
When he protested, I delivered the final blow. "I will uphold our family's need for an alliance. I will marry Don Dante Valentino."
My father's whiskey glass shattered on the floor. Dante Valentino was our greatest rival. The Call That Ruined Me
Billionaires The world was a blur, not of neon, but of fear, as I made a frantic 911 call after witnessing a horrific car crash involving social media influencer Chloe Stone.
I thought I was doing the right thing, saving a life, but that single phone call destroyed mine.
Chloe' s ruthless tech-mogul brother, Liam Stone, twisted my act of good Samaritanism into an act of malicious ruin, systematically dismantling my career and coercing me into a horrifying marriage contract.
His demand was simple: provide him an heir to secure his family' s legacy because his sister was "broken."
I became his prisoner, my body and future no longer my own.
During a coerced fertility procedure, everything went horribly wrong; I woke up in a hospital bed to the devastating news that I' d needed an emergency hysterectomy-I could never have children.
The one thing he forced me into, the one purpose I was meant to serve, was now impossible, violently taken from me.
Liam, enraged by my "uselessness," dragged me home to humiliate me further, demanding I play the grieving wife at a public gala despite his own role in my suffering.
But as I stood on that stage, forced to perform my pain, a piece of something snapped inside me.
I had lost everything, but I would not let him break my spirit entirely.
I looked him dead in the eyes and refused to give him the performance he craved.
I would expose his lies, reclaim my narrative, and start fighting back to survive. Love Lost, Self Found
Billionaires The invitation sat in my hand, a gilded lie addressed to "The Chen Residence," leading me into a lavish hall humming with triumph.
On a giant screen, my husband, David Chen, was hailed as a visionary billionaire, the man behind Genesis Inc.-a stark contrast to the humble app developer who used to struggle for our rent.
My mind reeled as I remembered selling my grandmother's treasured necklace, donating every penny of my art money to his "struggling startup," and watching him feign humility while I slaved away at three jobs, my dreams gathering dust for ten years.
Then, I saw her: Emily Hayes, his COO, his collegiate sweetheart, their public smiles melting into an intimate embrace as I overheard her murmur, "She' s still useful," and David dismissively add, "The story of my 'struggle' is good for PR."
My stomach churned-my entire married life a calculated performance, my sacrifices the fuel for his betrayal, leaving me with nothing but raw hands and a shattered heart.
The truth hit me like a physical blow: he hadn't just taken everything; he had laughed while doing it, while I counted pennies in our hovel as he built an empire with another woman.
Back in our cramped apartment, memories flooded back of his manufactured poverty, the cruel deception surrounding my miscarriage, and his chilling inaction as my father died, money he had all along.
The final insult came in a lavish penthouse suite where David and Emily, dripping with feigned concern for his "debt," demanded I kneel and then crawl before them, a twisted game designed to bleed me dry of dignity.
My fury finally broke through the numbness as David, mask discarded, grabbed me, warning, "You're not going anywhere. You'll do as you're told."
Then, Emily slapped me, showering me with hundreds of dollars, sneering, "Pick it up. Isn't that what you're good at? Scrabbling for scraps?" as David watched, complicit.
His final betrayal arrived with Emily, wearing my deceased mother's sacred jade bracelet, stolen by David, prompting me to lash out and her to feign injury.
He believed her instantly, his eyes pure hatred, so I grabbed a plate shard, dragging it across my own arm-a desperate, bloody truth in their world of lies.
Abandoned, bleeding, and aching for justice, I made a choice: there would be no more lies, no more victims, only the chilling dawn of revenge. The Price of Familial Betrayal
Modern The front door of my childhood home opened, and my mother' s face soured.
"Sarah." Her voice was flat, holding no warmth. "What are you doing here?"
I' d stopped by, thinking it might bridge the endless chasm between us. Instead, another demand was already forming in her eyes, even before I stepped inside.
For years, I was their bank. I paid Mike' s overdue rent, his credit card debt, even their mortgage-a mortgage only high because they' d refinanced to bail him out yet again. My entire adult life had been spent cleaning up their messes, while they praised my brother, Mike, the "heir" who hadn' t worked a steady job in a decade.
Then, my father gathered the family and announced his updated will: everything-the house, the family business-would go solely to Mike. My years of sacrificing, of financially propping them up, were dismissed as merely "my duty as a daughter." "You' re just a daughter," he' d hissed, "Your only duty is to support your family."
The injustice burned, yet it wasn't the first time they' d declared me less for being a girl. But this time, watching my brother' s smug, triumphant grin, something inside me finally snapped.
"Fine," I said, my voice calm, but filled with a resolve they' d never heard. "From this day forward, you won' t get anything from me." I walked out, leaving their shock and fury behind, finally free. When Forever Crumbles
Romance For ten years, my life was a dedication, a detailed blueprint for his Broadway dreams, meticulously built with every dollar from my three jobs, every hour as his unpaid assistant.
Our tenth anniversary was approaching, but a strange dizziness sent me to a clinic where I received a devastating diagnosis: a rare, aggressive illness, with only a month left to live.
I rushed home to tell the man I sacrificed everything for, only to find a pair of unfamiliar red stilettos discarded by the door and a woman' s bright laughter echoing from our bedroom.
He emerged, annoyed by my early arrival, while his starlet mistress, Scarlett, wrapped in our bedsheet, smirked triumphantly, reducing me to a forgotten piece of furniture in my own home.
His cold dismissal, "It's not a good time. We need to talk later," shattered something inside me, confirming I was nothing more than a tool, malfunctioning at the most inconvenient moment for his career.
Later, from a borrowed couch, I heard him on the phone, his voice tender for her, then contemptuous for me: "She's just being difficult… terrible timing. Don't worry about her. I' ll handle it."
The foundation of my entire world, built on his promises and my sacrifices, crumbled into a bitter lie.
But then, a twisted irony: the experimental treatment that could save me was fully funded by a grant awarded to his new Broadway production with Scarlett, essentially using my life's hope to fuel his infidelity.
As I walked away, clutching my old art portfolio, leaving the key behind, I heard him celebrating his "miracle," utterly unaware it was built on my death sentence.
My world ended, only to reveal the deeper, darker truth: the illness, the betrayal, his ultimate downfall – it was all part of a loop.
A loop that began when a shattered man, drowning in grief and regret, was given an impossible second chance, returned to the very moment we first met, desperate to rewrite our tragic ending. He Wanted 50/50, She Took 100%
Modern My six-figure tech career was just wiped out, leaving me, four months pregnant, vulnerable and reeling.
But nothing prepared me for the chilling "family budget meeting" called by my husband, Kevin, and his mother, Brenda.
They proposed a draconian 50/50 split of every expense, from utilities to groceries, and even my pregnancy and delivery costs.
Worse, they demanded I pay Brenda $2,500 monthly for her non-existent "household management" services, effectively turning her into a tenant I funded.
Then Kevin delivered the gut punch: any extra cost for a C-section would be "my body's issue," my financial responsibility alone. My stomach churned, not from morning sickness, but from the chilling realization that my husband and his mother saw me not as a partner or a parent, but as a walking ATM and a mere incubator.
The air in the room felt toxic. My entire being, my baby, my potential medical needs-all reduced to heartless figures on a spreadsheet.
How could the man I loved, the father of my child, and his own mother, demonstrate such ruthless greed and absolute disregard for my well-being? Every hidden red flag from our relationship now screamed in my ear.
They watched me, triumphant smiles on their faces, as I calmly agreed to their outrageous terms. But they had no idea. They wanted to play with spreadsheets? Fine. A cold, steel clarity washed over me. The deal wasn't off; it was just about to be rewritten – by me. Rising From Ruin: A Gold's Unstoppable Comeback
Billionaires My hand trembled as I prepared to call Kevin.
I had sacrificed everything for him, cutting ties with my tycoon father, Harrison Gold.
But finally, my father had agreed to meet Kevin, even considering funding his tech startup.
Peace and success felt within our grasp.
Then, a new Instagram post from Jess Vance, Kevin's business partner, popped up.
It was an ultrasound picture, captioned, "Love knows no timeline."
My blood ran cold when Kevin called moments later.
"Jess is pregnant," he stated flatly.
"It's mine," he continued, "and she' s Harrison Gold's daughter."
He demanded a divorce, claiming it was "just business" to secure vital funding.
He violently shoved me as I resisted, sending me crashing into a table.
A searing pain ripped through me as I crumpled, bleeding profusely.
I was losing our baby, and he just walked out, leaving me there.
The man I loved and gave everything for had brutally betrayed me.
He destroyed our marriage, our future, and our unborn child for a lie and for money.
How could he commit such a monstrous act, all for a fabricated identity for his mistress?
But he made one critical mistake: he provoked a Gold.
He dismissed me as unsupported, never realizing my powerful father's true reach.
My father, seeing my brokenness and the loss of his grandchild, vowed cold, absolute revenge.
This wasn't just a breakup; it was a war, and I, Sarah Gold, was about to rise from its ashes. When Love Turns to Ash
Romance My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend.
From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down."
That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny.
But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded.
I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said."
Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off."
My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers.
I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal.
Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing.
As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury.
In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho."
How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me?
Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault?
Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred?
I would not be his victim.
Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done.
I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties.
This was not an escape; this was my rebirth.
Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises. You might like
I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Jessica C. Dolan Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé.
Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one?
Wrong.
One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup.
So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise.
Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol.
Enter him.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life.
And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with.
And now, he's not letting me go. Divorced By Mistake: Reclaiming My Ex-wife
Daisy-kim "Wasn't I good in bed? Didn't I spoil you enough? What the hell did those fuckers give you that I couldn't?" My husband, Dean, yells at me for the very first time, gripping my hand and when I look into his eyes, I see how much he's hurting, how much he believed all the lies, how much he's not willing to listen.
"I'd never do that to you, Dean. I love you, please believe me," tears streamed down my face as I pleaded with him.
"You're meant for the streets Bella, and that's where you'd always be,"
And just like that my once perfect marriage hits the rock edge in a twinkle of an eye.
A stripper, an exotic dancer but none of that mattered to Dean, he promised to love me and he kept to his words, not until this day.
And even worse, he used my past against me, something he swore never to do..
*****
Ethan Fernandez, is a notorious casanova and unlike his friend, he never commits to any woman until his path crosses with Ivy, the formidable lawyer and the last person that gives a fuck about men and their shenanigans.
Now, the player becomes the played as his life takes an unexpected turn with the walking temptation that lurks in the form of Ivy Reynolds.
SCORNED EX WIFE : Queen Of Ashes
Annypen Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace.
But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge.
A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart.
Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn.
But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left?
A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again?
She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.
Craving The Wrong Brother
Elysian Sparrow She spent ten years chasing after the right brother, only to fall for the wrong one in one weekend.
~~~
Sloane Mercer has been hopelessly in love with her best friend, Finn Hartley, since college. For ten long years, she's stood by him, stitching him back together every time Delilah Crestfield-his toxic on-and-off girlfriend-shattered his heart.
But when Delilah gets engaged to another man, Sloane thinks this might finally be her chance to have Finn for herself. She couldn't be more wrong.
Heartbroken and desperate, Finn decides to crash Delilah's wedding and fight for her one last time. And he wants Sloane by his side.
Reluctantly, Sloane follows him to Asheville, hoping that being close to Finn will somehow make him see her the way she's always seen him.
Everything changes when she meets Knox Hartley, Finn's older brother-a man who couldn't be more different from Finn. He's dangerously magnetic. Knox sees right through Sloane and makes it his mission to pull her into his world.
What starts as a game-a twisted bet between them-soon turns into something deeper. Sloane is trapped between two brothers: one who's always broken her heart and another who seems hell-bent on claiming it... no matter the cost.
CONTENT WARNING:
This story is strongly 18+.
It delves into dark romance themes such as obsession and lust with morally complex characters.
While this is a love story, reader discretion is advised.
The Bride He Cast Away on Their Wedding Night
PageProfit Studio In the glittering world of high society and cutthroat ambition, a single sentence shatters a marriage: "Let's get a divorce."
For three years, Claire Thompson has lived in exile, her marriage to the powerful Nelson Cooper a hollow shell existing only on paper. Shipped abroad on her wedding day and utterly forgotten, she returns only to be handed divorce papers. But Claire is no longer the timid, heartbroken girl she once was. Behind her quiet facade lies a woman transformed, secretly rejoicing at her newfound freedom.
However, freedom comes with a price. As Claire signs the papers with relief, a chilling phone call reveals a dark truth: the threats she faced overseas were no accident, and the trail leads shockingly close to home-to the family that raised her and the husband who discarded her.
Just as she prepares to sever all ties, a twist of fate pulls her back into the gilded cage. Nelson, for reasons unknown, suddenly stalls the divorce. Meanwhile, the family that disowned her and the fragile, manipulative sister who stole her life are determined to ruin her reputation and drive her out for good.
But Claire is playing a different game now. With a mysterious new identity, powerful allies, and secrets of her own, she is no one's pawn. As hidden truths unravel and loyalties are tested, a stunning question emerges: In this high-stakes battle of love, betrayal, and revenge, who is truly trapping whom? A Divorce He Regrets
Alissa Nexus The day Raina gave birth should have been the happiest of her life. Instead, it became her worst nightmare. Moments after delivering their twins, Alexander shattered her heart-divorcing her and forcing her to sign away custody of their son, Liam. With nothing but betrayal and heartbreak to her name, Raina disappeared, raising their daughter, Ava, on her own.Years later, fate comes knocking when Liam falls gravely ill. Desperate to save his son, Alexander is forced to seek out the one person he once cast aside. Alexander finds himself face to face with the woman he underestimated, pleading for a second chance-not just for himself, but for their son. But Raina is no longer the same broken woman who once loved him.No longer the woman he left behind. She has carved out a new life-one built on strength, wealth, and a long-buried legacy she expected to uncover.Raina has spent years learning to live without him.The question is... Will she risk reopening old wounds to save the son she never got to love? or has Alexander lost her forever? Sexy Behind The Mask
Ellie Wynters She hides behind ugly suits and fake names. He's done trusting women. When they meet in a masked sex club, neither realizes they've been fighting each other across boardroom tables for eighteen months. At Taylor Industries, she's Joy Smith-the frumpy CFO who drowns her curves in shapeless polyester and wearing a wig. At home, she's the forgotten wife of a cheating lawyer who hasn't touched her in so long she's starting to wonder if she's broken. When she finds hot pink lace panties stuffed in her couch cushions...definitely not hers, it's not heartbreak she feels. It's freedom. Grayson Taylor doesn't do relationships anymore. Not after walking in on his actress fiancée with another woman. Now he channels everything into hostile takeovers and board meetings, especially the ones where his overcautious CFO fights him on every goddamn acquisition. Joy Smith is brilliant, infuriating, and funny when he pushes all her buttons. But Honey is tired of being invisible. Tired of never having felt real pleasure. So, when her best friend gives her the details of The Velvet Room-Manhattan's most exclusive masked club-she promises herself just one night. One night to find out if her husband's right, if she really is frigid, or if she's just never been touched by the right hands. She doesn't expect the masked stranger who claims her the second she walks in. Doesn't expect the chemistry that ignites between them, the way he makes her body sing, or the orgasms that leave her shaking. Doesn't expect him to hand her an email address with one command: "Only me. No one else touches you." Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father
Temple Madison I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires.
Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world.
My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets.
I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her.
The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money.
I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table.
"Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead." I'm Divorcing with You, Mr Billionaire!
The Wine Press I received a pornographic video.
"Do you like this?"
The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts.
"Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response.
"You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!"
The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed.
I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella.
************************************************************************************************************************
"I want to get a divorce, Mark," I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time-even though I knew he'd heard me clearly.
He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!"
The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him.
"I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster.
He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table.
I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house. 
/1/105562/coverorgin.jpg?v=ecfa56889faec8140b7d67269622b31f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101978/coverorgin.jpg?v=a803a489fb4c7da8eae42211e7723515&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/94878/coverorgin.jpg?v=86da8d2aefbb0d347e480b658e1ab083&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86232/coverorgin.jpg?v=0cc5187a2be806c8ab305e598ccc9fda&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86168/coverorgin.jpg?v=2570eeff2eb71772e8b4319570530609&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85851/coverorgin.jpg?v=f79158d2bb8de73cebf405229143fd56&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84562/coverorgin.jpg?v=85bfdf4574776c994e52fbb32e8b2f35&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83389/coverorgin.jpg?v=b8b50f8f0011665e3bfa6fbd9a001303&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83291/coverorgin.jpg?v=2d4b7c61bd2bb10ed804e3218fdf68ff&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81266/coverorgin.jpg?v=0db1c7c8f8a19b04bdc562ca1e003e13&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/60801/coverorgin.jpg?v=e279440f9b8e5f638d2b4487ca9c39e6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82937/coverorgin.jpg?v=2907194aa510c647b04f7cba8770d5c5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/87511/coverorgin.jpg?v=2e775422334f670e69f6c64b54372b11&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/77336/coverorgin.jpg?v=b0064f360b5858825f4c662e7fe502c8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/79297/coverorgin.jpg?v=fe543bb15bba3ade67a28f4e3ec58313&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/98478/coverorgin.jpg?v=927d35927a69a3203fdac828619f8bd6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/73040/coverorgin.jpg?v=de0760cf2bd001aa298f2033e9d9d2cd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101569/coverorgin.jpg?v=9bdb867482765b0ee643a9d9b3e3565d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/105401/coverorgin.jpg?v=18c7d752621a50bc5635d2f1604ddeba&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/78458/coverorgin.jpg?v=eeae7fcbdf452e964c10ce9006d36655&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/64082/coverorgin.jpg?v=3b6497ddf8ecfa841031756b6c683c74&imageMogr2/format/webp)