chapter 7

I texted back, "Want to be Mrs. Vance that badly? Fine. You can have him."

Then I deleted Juniper on WhatsApp.

I waited out the night. In the morning, I took off my wedding ring, placed it on the coffee table in our marital home next to the signed divorce papers, and headed for the airport. I was going to visit my best friend, Peggy Moon, in another city to clear my head.

But just as I was going through security, Leander showed up.

"Olivia, where are you going?" His face was grim in a way I'd never seen before.

Everything about him—his expression, his voice—was pulled tight.

"Veridia," I replied.

"What for?"

"To see Peggy."

"Fine. We'll take the next flight together." He took my suitcase, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I frowned. "That's not appropriate."

"I'm your husband. What's not appropriate about it?" he suddenly snapped, losing his composure.

I raised a brow. So he'd seen them. Well, no point hiding it now. I said, "You were my husband. You won't be for much longer. Once you sign the papers, it'll just take about a month for everything to be final..."

"Olivia! No. That's not happening. Over my dead body!" Leander's grip on my arm tightened. He steered me forcefully out of the airport.

"Leander, let me go." I struggled, but he just picked me up, shoved me into his car, and I watched my flight take off without me.

"You're not leaving me." He wrapped his arms around me and bent his head for a kiss, but I went completely numb, giving him nothing. He finally pulled back, defeated, and just kept stroking my face, mumbling that he loved me.

I let out a scornful laugh.

Did loving me give you the right to treat me like dirt?

If abandonment was a form of love, then I wanted no part of it.

Leander took me back to the marital home.

He tore up the divorce papers, locked me in the bedroom, and said I needed to "cool off."

It wasn't until that afternoon, when the new housekeeper brought me food, that I understood. He'd actually imprisoned me. He'd changed all the locks of the villa and hired guards to keep watch around the place.

He'd even jammed the phone signal. I couldn't contact anyone.

I was so furious that I smashed all the food trays. Hearing the noise, Leander appeared at the door, looking at me almost pleadingly. "Olivia, can we please stop this?"

"Leander, I'm not your property." I casually grabbed the nearest object and threw it at him.

It was a photo frame.

It hit his forehead. Glass shattered everywhere, just like our marriage—impossible to piece back together.

He said, "I'll call them off when you start thinking clearly."

Even with a cut on his head, Leander didn't get angry. He started trying to please me in every way he could.

Expensive jewelry, limited-edition clothes, bags with waiting lists—if it existed on the market, it showed up in front of me.

But I couldn't even be bothered to unwrap a single gift box.

Whatever came in went right back out, completely untouched.

Leander seemed to sense something then. He asked me in despair what he could possibly do to earn my forgiveness.

Did he really not know?

My demand had never changed from the very beginning: a clean, peaceful break.

Three days later, Fiona returned to Aurelia.

The moment she found out about Leander's ridiculous behavior, she slapped him across the face.