“Go ahead,” I whispered.
I closed my eyes, feeling the life I had longed for vanish inside me.
Along with it went the last shred of affection between Ethan and me.
When I woke again, a hand was gripping mine tightly.
I looked up to see Daniel Evans, face full of worry.
He had been my father’s proudest protégé, and now he led the Harris Group.
“Sophia, I can’t believe how he treated you. Without your behind-the-scenes help, do you think Ethan would’ve ever gotten this far?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll have him dragged here to beg you for forgiveness!”
I stopped him and calmly dialed Ethan’s number instead.
The booming noise of a club echoed through the line.
His first words were: “What, finally realized you were wrong?”
I ignored him and asked, “Where are you? There’s a contract you need to sign.”
He hesitated, clearly surprised. After a pause, he gave me the name of a bar they often went to.
I hung up and told my lawyer to bring the divorce agreement.
Some endings need to be written in person.
That evening, I pushed through the pain and arrived at the private booth. Ethan was already drunk.