"Here, sign it," Lucas ordered, tossing a stack of documents onto the bed.
Aurora's gaze lingered on the papers, her lips curling into a bitter smile.
The room felt heavy with the silence of the previous morning, when Lucas had left the mansion abruptly after their conversation.
Now, he was back, unburdened, presenting divorce papers as if it were a routine errand.
Had Julia claimed him completely?
Should she still fight for their marriage, for the love she had once believed in?
The word "love" caught in her throat, a cruel mockery of the hope she had clung to.
Aurora reached for the documents, flipping through the pages with trembling hands. Her eyes widened as she stumbled upon the alimony package—twenty million and several houses.
Was Lucas worried she'd end up homeless, with no job and no money?
His attempt to ensure she wasn't left destitute felt almost like a cruel joke.
Three years ago, she had left her job, convinced that her dedication to Lucas and their marriage was enough. Now, faced with his unexpected financial support, she felt a sharp pang of irony.
The marriage had crumbled, and Lucas's parting gift seemed small compared to everything she had sacrificed.
Aurora's gaze narrowed on the stack of papers and the card with its hefty sum.
Lucas tapped his foot against the floor, irritation evident in his voice. "What? Is the money too small?"
Amos, his assistant, had thoroughly prepared the divorce papers, tailored to Lucas's exact specifications. Yet, Aurora remained silent, the pen poised in her hand, unmoving.
Was she hesitating? Backing out? The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn't afford to, but the sting of the situation was undeniable.
She skimmed through the documents again, her brows furrowing as she reached the alimony clause. "I didn't mention that. It's just... strange that you included alimony."
Lucas scoffed, dismissive. "Pfft, Julia was right. The money on that card and the houses should be enough to keep you quiet. I don't want anyone knowing about this so-called marriage."
Aurora shook her head, a bitter smile tugging at her lips.
Did he really see her as nothing more than a gold digger?
She had kept their relationship private out of love and respect, not out of a desire for his wealth.
If only he knew the depth of her sacrifice.
She took a deep breath and signed the papers, the pen's scratch echoing her silent surrender. With each stroke, she was reminded of the life she had given up for him. His unflinching gaze only deepened the ache in her heart.
Once the documents were signed, they went their separate ways. Lucas headed to his office, eager to present Julia Mayhem as his new business partner, while Aurora diligently packed her belongings.
She left behind the expensive bags, clothes, and jewelry Lucas had given her, along with the alimony—the card and the house transfer documents—which she planned to hand over to Amos, Lucas's assistant.
The money and properties meant nothing to her; all she had ever wanted was Lucas's love and attention, but that was something she could never have.
Taking one last glance at the room that was once warm and full of life, she sighed.
She dragged her small luggage out of the room, and just then;
"Has the witch left, or does she need a push?" Aurora heard her mother-in-law's voice ring out from downstairs.
Peering over the banister, Aurora saw her mother-in-law, Madam Rossi. Her face was flushed with fury as she was flanked by her self-righteous daughter and a group of burly guards.
Aurora descended the stairs quietly, but as soon as Madam Rossi spotted her, her lips twisted into a sneer.
"Search her bags," Madam Rossi barked at the guards. "Make sure she isn't sneaking off with an expensive night lamp or my son's money."
Aurora's face flushed with humiliation. "Mother!" she protested, her voice edged with annoyance.
The accusation stung. How could Madam Rossi suggest she'd steal a night lamp or money?
"Don't you dare call me your mother, you filthy witch," Madam Rossi retorted angrily before snapping to the guards. "Hurry!"
The guards roughly shoved Aurora aside and tore into her luggage, scattering its contents across the floor. They searched thoroughly, but surprisingly, nothing belonged to Lucas.
The luggage was only filled with Aurora's cheap clothes.
"See, I didn't take anything that's not mine!" Aurora said, irritation clear in her voice.
Madam Rossi, on the other hand, felt embarrassed.
She had arranged the hefty guards for this reason to humiliate her good-for-nothing daughter-in-law. But, it seemed like her efforts would be in vain.
"Why should we believe you?" Nora interjected sharply. Despite her innocent college-student appearance, her harsh words betrayed her true nature.
"You only married my brother for his money. You've enjoyed a lavish lifestyle for three years. We're not going to let you off the hook just because you're leaving!" Nora spat, her voice dripping with venom.
Aurora's lips pressed into a thin line. Was Nora really bold enough to insult her like this?
Aurora was no stranger to her in-laws' disdain; they had delighted in belittling her whenever they could. But Nora, who had always been the model of politeness, had never shown such cruelty.
Aurora pushed aside her surprise. Like mother like daughter.
She quietly began to gather her belongings, trying to restore some order to her scattered luggage.
Suddenly, Nora's hand clamped down on her wrist with surprising force.
"Search her bag," Nora ordered the guards, her gaze dripping with contempt as she looked down at Aurora.
Aurora was taken aback. She was stunned to watch Nora glare at her.
As soon as a guard took Aurora's bag, Nora let go and stepped back as if Aurora was disgusting.
"I didn't steal or take anything—" Aurora started, but she left the statement hanging.
The memories of their harsh voices filled her mind—the sneering comments about her not being good enough, the cruel jabs at her every move.
Understanding their intent to provoke her, she refused to give them the satisfaction.
Instead, she focused on moving out, choosing silence over a pointless confrontation.
As the guard rifled through her bag, Aurora clenched her fists, frustration simmering beneath the surface. They were wasting her time.
"Madam Rossi, there's a bank card and a few house transfer documents in her bag!" The guard announced, drawing the attention of Madam Rossi and Nora.
"I was going to hand that over to Amos," Aurora protested.
"Shut it!" Madam Rossi snapped. "A good-for-nothing like you should be burnt alive. I knew you'd steal something valuable. Despicable!"
"Mother, I promise. I was going to hand it over! I would never steal your son's belongings!" Aurora's voice trembled with frustration.
The sting of their ridicule was unbearable. As Madam Rossi opened her mouth to hurl more insults, Nora's face tightened with worry. She glanced at the door, then at the guard, and back at her mother.
"Mother, that's enough," Nora whispered urgently, her voice low and anxious. "We've got what we came for. If Brother finds us here, he'll be furious and might force us to apologize to that hypocrite. Let's go before he comes back."
Aurora barely heard them. Her clothes were scattered across the floor, and she worked frantically to stuff them into her luggage.
Tears welled in her eyes as the sting of their harsh words resurfaced. She had tried so hard to earn their affection, only to be met with disdain.
Madam Rossi's voice cut through her thoughts. "I'll leave you to your miserable life. Goodbye, Aurora. I do not want to see you near my son again. He deserves someone better, like Julia. She's a far better fit than you."
With that, Madam Rossi and Nora departed with the guards in tow.
Aurora felt the sting of those words like a slap. They knew about Julia's return, and they couldn't wait to push her out of the way.
The housekeeper, who had witnessed the cruel scene, rushed over with sympathy in her eyes. She knelt down, helping Aurora gather her things.
Aurora swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing a faint smile at the housekeeper. "Thank you, Mrs. Hayden... for everything," she whispered as she zipped up her suitcase.
Mrs. Hayden hesitated, her hands fidgeting with the edge of Aurora's bag. "Will you be all right... without Sir?" she asked, her tone heavy with worry.
She had overheard Madam Rossi discussing Aurora's departure, and the weight of that knowledge had pressed down on her since.
For three years, Mrs. Hayden had watched Aurora pour her heart into every meal she made for Lucas, hoping for even the smallest sign of appreciation. But Lucas rarely touched her food, always pushing the plate aside with a grimace and demanding something else.
Each rejection had dimmed Aurora's spirit, but she never gave up, continuing to prepare his favorite dishes with the same quiet determination. Mrs. Hayden often found Lucas sneaking into the kitchen late at night, eating the meals he claimed to despise. She would catch the faintest smile tugging at his lips as he swallowed the food.
From then on, Mrs. Hayden had become Aurora's quiet supporter, offering encouragement and help in the kitchen. She had seen the small, hidden gestures of Lucas's affection, even when Aurora could not.
Aurora forced a smile, though it wavered. "I'll be fine, Mrs. Hayden," she said, but the tremor in her voice betrayed the strength she was trying so hard to muster.
Mrs. Hayden's chest tightened. She had watched Aurora fight so hard for a love that was never returned. Seeing her now, so worn down, made her heart ache.
Without a word, the housekeeper pulled Aurora into a tight embrace, her own eyes welling up. How would she manage in this house, filled with the cold, ungrateful Rossis, without the gentle presence of her kind Madam?
"I'm going to miss you, Ma," Mrs. Hayden murmured, her voice thick with emotion. She pulled away reluctantly, quickly wiping her eyes before Aurora could see the full extent of her tears.
"Wait here, Ma," Mrs. Hayden said, already turning toward the kitchen. "Let me make your favorite meal. After all that's happened, you must be starving."
"Mrs. Hayden," Aurora called after her.
"And a fruit smoothie, too. You'll need your strength."
"Mrs. Hayden," Aurora repeated, softer this time, stopping her in her tracks.
Mrs. Hayden turned back, seeing the sadness in Aurora's eyes. She realized that no amount of comfort food could change what was about to happen.
"There's no need," Aurora said, her voice heavy. "The taxi's already waiting. I should go."
Mrs. Hayden nodded, biting back her own sorrow as she watched Aurora pick up her luggage and leave.