"Take it off," Lorenzo growls, ripping off his tie and hurling it onto the bed. I widen my eyes in confusion.
"What?"
"Take. The. Ring. Off," He repeats, his voice rising as he devours the distance between us.
Oh. I get it. But it's best to play dumb. So, I ask, feigning a confused tone and look. "What ring?"
Lorenzo's face darkens. "Don't play dumb. The wedding ring. Take it off, now."
My eyes drops to my hand, where the ring gleams. I take a step back, creating space between us. "No."
Lorenzo's amber eyes narrow. "What?"
"I said no."
Lorenzo steps closer, the space between us shrinking to almost nothing. "Are you really refusing me?" His low, threatening tone hangs in the air as he searches my eyes.
My jaw clenches. "You can't waltz in here late and demand I remove my ring, Enzo. That's not how this works."
This moment isn't what I envisioned. I've been waiting for him, excited to share good news, but instead, he shows up with a bad attitude, ready to challenge me.
Lorenzo's expression darkens. "And how will you feel about divorce papers?" he breathes, his words striking me like a slap.
This can't be happening. He's always tossed around the idea of divorce, but never seriously. There's something different in his eyes, a resolve that makes my stomach twist with fear.
"You're drunk, Enzo. Go to bed," I murmur, turning to leave.
But Lorenzo's tattooed hand clamps around my wrist, holding me firmly. I try to shake him off, but he won't let go, boring down on me as if I've destroyed everything he holds dear.
"Let me go, Enzo," I warn, my voice rising.
Those amber eyes flare with anger. "We're not done talking."
I glare at him. "What do you want from me?"
"I want a divorce,"
There it is.
"You're not getting one," I fire back through my teeth.
His grip on my wrist tightens. "Your stubbornness won't change my mind."
I twist my hand, struggling to break free. "Let go of me and go to bed, Enzo. You're clearly exhausted. And not in your right mind."
Abruptly, he releases my wrist, his fingers raking through his hair. "You're not leaving this room until you sign the divorce papers."
Shock washes over me as I stare at him. I glance down at my wrist, the crimson bruise from his grip pulsing with a gentle ache. The edges are slightly swollen and sensitive, a searing reminder of our chaotic relationship.
We've been married for three years now, a mutually beneficial arrangement that's lost its luster. I, Genevieve King, a renowned billionaire heiress, fell deeply in love with Lorenzo Bianchi, an upcoming chef. He married into wealth to please his foster parents.
I never cared about that. What mattered was that he was mine.
But reality has been a harsh wake-up call. Our expectations remain unmet. I yearn for love and affection, but Lorenzo's distant behavior leaves me feeling isolated and unloved. He says I'm emotionally unavailable, a block of ice – a label that stings. But perhaps there's truth to it? It's a label I'm used to.
Our interactions often escalate into confrontations, with divorce threats becoming a recurring theme. Like this. But now, it feels like we're standing at the brink of a collapse.
I look at my ring. "There won't be a divorce, Lorenzo." You're hurting me.
Lorenzo's face twists in frustration. "I never wanted this!" he snaps, his intensity making me flinch. "I never asked for this life!"
He presses his hand to his chest. "I was happy before you, Evie. I had simplicity, just me and my job. You... You destroyed my life. I can't... I can't take it anymore."
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and despite my efforts, a lone droplet betrays me, trickling down my face. I quickly wipe it away.
"I destroyed your life?" I ask, my voice steady despite the pain within.
His face falls, the weight of his words sinking in, like he's suddenly realized he chose the wrong ones to say.
My eyes narrow. "You shouldn't have agreed to marry me, then."
Lorenzo's eyes delve into mine, seeking the fragile woman hidden beneath my icy facade. "I have my regrets," his voice drops to a gentle murmur.
"I know," I whisper, looking away, unsure. My mask slips, and for an instant, I know he sees the sensitive soul beneath.
Sighing heavily, Lorenzo turns away, opens his suitcase, and retrieves a document. "I've signed it already," he says, handing it to me.
I accept the paper, my heart sinking at the sight of his signature. "Hand me a pen," I request, trying to keep my voice steady.
Lorenzo promptly produces a pen from his pocket and hands it to me. I snatch it, positioning the tip over the signature line.
"I am..." I pause, breathing heavily.
1,096 days. Each one a reminder of time wasted, opportunities lost. I thought we had forever, but forever has come and gone.
The memories we should have made, the laughter we should have shared, all sacrificed to the altar of discord.
Fuck! "I... I don't want to sign it."
Surprise sparks in Lorenzo's eyes, and for an instant, he truly sees my feelings.
But then a small, enigmatic smile curls on his lips, softening the tension. "I know, Evie. I know."
His eyes drop, his shoulders sagging. "Deep down, you know this is the best decision for us – not just for me."
I shake my head, "No... No. I can't do this."
Lorenzo sighs heavily with defeat and a hint of sorrow. "I know our conversations always circle back to this, and I'm sorry to bring it up tonight, of all nights – our three-year anniversary,"
He reaches out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. "But, Evie, this is what's best for us. Trust me."
In this fleeting moment, my heart swells with love and admiration. Lorenzo's eyes, like warm honey, melt my defenses. His strong jawline, the gentle curve of his red lips, the unruly waves of his dark hair, and the warm glow of his smooth, golden skin – every detail etches itself into my soul.
My husband's rugged elegance never fails to take my breath away.
I'm selfish. But I love him. Enough to let him go.
"Would signing it bring you happiness?" I ask, my head cocked curiously. "Would you smile?"
Lorenzo nods, stunned. Still, he asks, "What?"
"Don't answer that." My throat constricts as I realize this is our longest conversation since marriage. Arguments have been frequent, but we never linger. One of us always storms off in frustration.
"Okay." I sign the papers swiftly. With a deep breath, I hand them back. "Our... My lawyer will handle the formalities. The press will announce it, but don't worry, I'll manage everything."
Lorenzo nods tensely, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."
You're not welcome!
My legs tremble as I force myself to walk away. The door closes sharply behind me, and I lean against it, exhaling a shaky breath.
"Damn it!" Tears well up in my eyes and stream down my face.
"I'm... I'm sorry, little one," I press a trembling hand to my stomach. "Daddy didn't let me tell him about you. I just... lost him."