She was crying so hard that she was almost unrecognizable, and Cormac, ever patient, comforted her gently.
I just stood there, like some villain keeping two star-crossed lovers apart.
When she tried to rush at me, Cormac held her back.
I couldn’t resist adding fuel to the fire.
“Oh, that’s a shame,” I said with mock sympathy. “But since he refuses to divorce me, even if you did manage to have a child, it would still be a bastard. Who told you to play mistress?”
My tone dripped with contempt.
At my words, Hillerin’s body tensed and fresh blood began to trickle down her legs.
“Cormac! If you don’t kill her, I swear, I’ll die right here!”
In a swift motion, she grabbed a fruit knife and pressed it against her neck.
For once, the ever-composed Cormac panicked.
He grabbed the blade with his bare hand, blood instantly running down his palm. But he didn’t care. It was obvious he just wanted to hold the woman he loved.
“Put the knife down,” he ordered hoarsely. “I’ll give you an answer. I promise.”
He signed the divorce papers and threw them at me.