Chapter 1: Finally, a Divorce

“Sign it,” a deep, pleasing yet chilling voice resonated. “After the divorce, I won’t press charges. I’ll give you two hundred million more and your city-center studio. And the one downtown…”

Isabella Jeannet stifled a laugh. Her beautiful almond-shaped eyes reflected the dizzying number of zeros in the divorce agreement. She meticulously counted them.

Across the desk, the tall man’s handsome, noble brows were furrowed. His dark, glossy eyes, radiating a cool intensity, watched as the trembling Isabella lowered her head and covered her mouth. A chill deepened in his heart.

If Alexander Quirk had known what would happen, he would never have tolerated it. Isabella was both pitiful and detestable. Her parents, lifelong friends of the Quirks, had died before she came of age. Fulfillment of their dying wish had brought Isabella into the Quirk family. She repaid their kindness with treachery, scheming to become his wife.

His life since then had been a relentless, unwarranted harassment. She’d driven him to the brink, culminating in the theft of company secrets and their loss of a major project—a betrayal that ignited resentment throughout the company. To appease the board, he had to divorce her.

“I’ve shown extreme benevolence,” he said. “I hope you know when to stop.” If not for her deceased parents, he would have shown her no mercy. He’d expected vehement resistance, perhaps even a suicide attempt. Instead, she tremblingly picked up the pen.

A sigh of relief escaped him. He thought she’d finally realized the gravity of her actions. Finally, a divorce—

“Woohoo! Finally, a divorce!” Isabella’s voice echoed in his mind.

Alexander was stunned. Was that…Isabella’s voice? He’d rarely heard such joy from her. Unsure, he looked up. Her expression, however, was fierce, pen poised over the agreement. Anger? Joy? She hadn’t spoken.

“Fantastic! Two hundred million! Houses! Young men! My dear ex-husband is so generous!” Her voice rang out again, but not audibly.

A flicker crossed his elegant, deep-set eyes. He was certain she hadn’t spoken, yet he'd heard her voice. What was happening? He glanced at Hannah Gates, his secretary.

She was intently studying the agreement. Noticing his gaze, she offered a sympathetic expression, lamenting their situation. He dismissed her unusual demeanor. The important thing was that she couldn't hear the voice.

“Ms. Jeannet, you’ve caused Mr. Alexander considerable trouble,” Hannah said, frowning earnestly. Secretly, she was counting down, anticipating Isabella’s inevitable outburst. An outburst might cost Isabella the generous compensation. Hannah felt Isabella undeserved such treatment.

Isabella merely glanced up, then quickly signed, as if in a rush to be reborn.

“Annoyed at taking the blame, but given the smooth divorce and compensation… I’ll let the culprit off the hook,” Isabella's voice echoed in Alexander’s mind.

Alexander stiffened as she flung the agreement to him. A storm brewed in his eyes. She took the blame? She’s not the culprit?

The shock intensified. Isabella hadn’t intentionally caused trouble to get his attention; it wasn’t her dissatisfaction with his indifference. She was the only one who’d entered his office that day. Photos confirmed a private meeting with a rival company's vice president. The evidence seemed irrefutable.

She’d initially refused to admit it, creating a scene. Eventually, enraged, she’d roared, “Since you don’t trust me, assume it was me! What can you do?” He’d thought it was anger at being caught. Now, it seemed reckless despair.

“Mr. Alexander, it’s time to sign,” Hannah urged, her usual calm replaced with urgency as he hesitated. He felt she was overstepping.

Remembering Isabella’s words about the culprit, resentment stirred. Hannah, his university classmate and trusted confidante, had betrayed the company. She impatiently offered him the pen. He was responsible, protective of his family, and soft-hearted; otherwise, he wouldn't have stayed with Isabella so long. Previous near-divorces had been averted by her tears, tantrums, and suicide threats. Hannah wanted to avoid any issues on Alexander’s side.

“Tsk, tsk, someone’s impatient,” Isabella’s voice echoed. “Ms. Gates is uneasy, afraid her efforts will be wasted.”

Alexander’s gaze shifted. He pressed the pen to the table. Both Isabella and Hannah were startled.

His dark eyes fixed on Isabella, who couldn’t mask her gossipy expression. “I’m asking you one last time. Were you behind this?” His caution was paramount. If the voice was true, he'd wrongly accused someone, risking the company. He needed verification.

Hannah’s face paled, but she didn’t panic; Isabella couldn’t prove her innocence. Isabella felt uneasy under his gaze.

“What does he mean?” Isabella’s voice echoed. “Is he questioning this because he doesn’t want to pay? Can’t he sign first?”

A knot tightened in Alexander’s heart. He stared intently, desperate for an answer.

Isabella’s eyes darted around. “Of course, I didn’t do it! Everyone else is blind! Ms. Gates went in and out after me, but the staff conveniently overlooked it. They didn't check surveillance. Classic bias!”

Alexander was stunned. Isabella wasn’t the only one? Eyewitness accounts and evidence had implicated her; no one had checked the footage. He’d assumed Isabella's guilt.

Before he could speak, Isabella said coldly, “I have nothing to say. Sign it.”

Alexander’s face hardened. He didn't understand her silence. Was she afraid he wouldn't believe her?

He stood abruptly. Hannah stared, stunned by his single, chilling glance. She shuddered.

He strode past Isabella, commanding, “Retrieve the surveillance footage from the evening of the eleventh! Mrs. Quirk is unwilling to submit, so let her see for herself if she was the only one!”

Hannah paled. “Mr. Alexander!”

Isabella was confused. When did I say that? I was willing to go along!