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My wealthy husband, Nathaniel, stormed in, demanding a divorce to be with his "dying" first love, Julia. He expected tears, pleas, even hysteria. Instead, I calmly reached for a pen, ready to sign away our life for a fortune. For two years, I played the devoted wife in our sterile penthouse. That night, Nathaniel shattered the facade, tossing divorce papers. "Julia's back," he stated, "she needs me." He expected me to crumble. But my calm "Okay" shocked him. I coolly demanded his penthouse, shares, and a doubled stipend, letting him believe I was a greedy gold digger. He watched, disgusted, convinced I was a monster. He couldn't fathom my indifference or ruthless demands. He saw avarice, not a carefully constructed facade. His betrayal had awakened something far more dangerous. The second the door closed, the dutiful wife vanished. I retrieved a burner phone and a Glock, ready to expose the elaborate lie he and Julia had built.
Chapter 1 No.1
The air in the master bedroom of the penthouse on 5th Avenue was always cold, regulated by a climate control system that seemed to scrub the oxygen out of the atmosphere along with the dust. It was a sterile cold, the kind that settled into the marrow of your bones and refused to leave.
Nathaniel Sterling walked through the double doors. He didn't slam them, but the heavy click of the latch engaging sounded like a gunshot in the silence. He looked tired. There were shadows under his eyes that no amount of expensive skincare could hide, and the knot of his silk tie was already loosened, hanging askew like a noose that had failed to do its job.
Victoria Vane was sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed. She was reading a hardcover book, her posture perfect, her spine straight. She didn't look up when he entered. She turned a page, the paper rasping against her fingertips.
Nathaniel walked to the nightstand. He held a thick brown envelope in his hand. He tossed it onto the polished mahogany surface. It slid across the wood with a dry hiss and bumped against the back of Victoria's hand.
She stopped reading. She didn't flinch. She didn't jump. She simply marked her page with a silk ribbon and closed the book, setting it down on the duvet. Then, she looked up.
Her eyes were calm. There was no fear in them, no adoration, and perhaps most disturbingly for Nathaniel, no curiosity. It was like looking into a mirror that refused to show a reflection.
"I want a separation," Nathaniel said. His voice was rough, gravelly from a day of board meetings and suppressed frustration. "Leading to a divorce."
Victoria looked at him. She blinked once, slowly.
"Okay," she said.
The word hung in the air between them, simple and devastatingly light. Nathaniel frowned. He had expected tears. He had expected her to throw herself at his feet, to remind him of her vows, to beg for another chance. He had prepared himself for hysteria. He had not prepared himself for indifference.
"Julia is back in New York," he added, twisting the knife he thought was already buried in her chest. "She needs me."
Victoria nodded. She reached for the envelope. Her movements were fluid, precise. She wound the string around the button of the envelope and opened it.
"I assumed as much," she said, her voice steady. "Is this the proposal?"
Nathaniel watched her, a flicker of irritation sparking in his chest. Why wasn't she reacting? For two years, she had played the role of the doting wife, always waiting for him, always smiling, always trying to please him. Now, when he was shattering their life together, she looked like she was reviewing a grocery list.
"My lawyers drafted the term sheet this morning," Nathaniel said, loosening his tie further and tossing it onto a chair. "It's a binding separation agreement. It outlines the asset freeze and the initial settlement. It's generous. More than you deserve, considering where you came from."
Victoria ignored the jab. She pulled out the documents. Her eyes scanned the pages, not reading every word, but hunting for specific numbers. She was looking for the bottom line.
She stopped at page four. She picked up a gold pen from the nightstand. She tapped the nib against the paper, a rhythmic, hollow sound that seemed to echo in the large room.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"The alimony cap is too low," she said.
Nathaniel let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Of course. It always comes down to money with you."
Victoria looked up at him, and for a second, the corner of her mouth quirked upward. It wasn't a smile. It was a business transaction.
"Two years, Nathaniel. I gave you two years of my youth. I cooked for you. I attended your boring galas. I tolerated your mother's insults. That has a price tag."
"You're unbelievable," Nathaniel muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. "You're finally showing your true colors. You were just a gold digger all along."
Victoria didn't deny it. She didn't defend her honor. She simply pointed the pen at him.
"I want the penthouse," she said.
Nathaniel stared at her. "This apartment? It's worth forty million dollars."
"And I want five percent of the Sterling Tech shares that are currently liquid," she continued, ignoring his outrage. "And I want the monthly stipend doubled effective immediately."
She was asking for a fortune. She was asking for enough money to fund a small country. In his eyes, she was being greedy, grasping, and vile.
In reality, she was just making sure he believed the lie. If she asked for nothing, he would be suspicious. If she asked for everything, he would just think she was trash. And trash was easy to discard.
"Fine," Nathaniel snapped. He just wanted her out. He wanted this over. He wanted to go to the hospital and hold Julia's hand. He didn't care about the money. He could make more money. He couldn't buy back time.
He pulled out his phone and dialed his lawyer.
"Mark the amendments," he barked into the receiver. "Agree to the property transfer. Agree to the shares. Double the monthly payout in the interim agreement. Send the revised signature page now."
He could hear the lawyer sputtering on the other end, protesting the insanity of the request.
"Do it! Send the digital addendum," Nathaniel shouted, ending the call.
He looked at Victoria. She was waiting, the pen still poised in her hand. Her face was a mask of serene patience.
A minute later, his phone pinged. He forwarded the digital document to the tablet on the nightstand.
"Sign the separation terms," he said, his voice dripping with disgust. "This freezes our assets and starts the clock. And then get out of my sight."
Victoria picked up the tablet. She scrolled to the bottom. She signed her name, Victoria Vane Sterling, with a flourish. The digital ink was black and legally binding for the separation phase.
She set the tablet down. She stood up. She was wearing a silk nightgown that skimmed her body, but Nathaniel didn't look at her with desire. He looked at her like she was a stain on his carpet.
"I'll be gone within the hour," she said.
She walked past him toward the walk-in closet. As she passed, she didn't touch him. She didn't smell like the floral perfume she usually wore. She smelled like nothing. Like she had already erased herself from the room.
Nathaniel watched her go, feeling a strange, hollow ache in his chest. It wasn't regret, he told himself. It was just relief. It was finally over.
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Chapter 1 No.1
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Chapter 2 No.2
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Chapter 3 No.3
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Chapter 4 No.4
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Chapter 5 No.5
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Chapter 6 No.6
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Chapter 7 No.7
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Chapter 8 No.8
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Chapter 9 No.9
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Chapter 10 No.10
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Chapter 11 No.11
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Chapter 12 No.12
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Chapter 13 No.13
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Chapter 14 No.14
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Chapter 15 No.15
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Chapter 16 No.16
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Chapter 17 No.17
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Chapter 18 No.18
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Chapter 19 No.19
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Chapter 20 No.20
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Chapter 21 No.21
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Chapter 22 No.22
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Chapter 23 No.23
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Chapter 24 No.24
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Chapter 25 No.25
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Chapter 26 No.26
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Chapter 27 No.27
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Chapter 28 No.28
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Chapter 29 No.29
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Chapter 30 No.30
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Chapter 31 No.31
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Chapter 32 No.32
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Chapter 33 No.33
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Chapter 34 No.34
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Chapter 35 No.35
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Chapter 36 No.36
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Chapter 37 No.37
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Chapter 38 No.38
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Chapter 39 No.39
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Chapter 40 No.40
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