Chapter 3 - The Price of Arrogance
Reporters swarmed the stage,
flashes from cameras blinding everyone in the vicinity.
Ethan was shouting,
trying to command the room,
but no one was listening to him anymore.
He was no longer the brilliant CEO of a rising tech empire.
He was a man who had just insulted the daughter of a titan,
and the world was watching him burn.
“You can't do this!”
Ethan screamed at me,
his composure completely gone.
“We’re married!
That money belongs to both of us!”
I smiled,
and it was the first real smile I had felt in years.
“Actually,
Ethan,”
I said,
pointing to the divorce papers sitting on the podium,
“you just had me sign a waiver of all marital claims.
You insisted on it.
You said five thousand dollars was all I deserved.”
The irony hit him like a physical blow.
He looked at the papers,
the very documents he had used to humiliate me,
and realized he had just signed away his right to the Evans fortune.
By forcing me to sign that specific agreement,
he had ensured that he had no legal claim to a single penny of my family's wealth,
even the wealth he had enjoyed during our marriage.
Miranda grabbed his arm,
her nails digging into his tuxedo.
“Ethan,
do something!
Tell them they're wrong!”
But Ethan was looking at my father's security team,
who were now moving toward the doors of the ballroom to lock them.
“Nobody leaves until the audit is complete,”
Marcus announced.
The guests were panicking now.
Some were trying to call their brokers.
Others were trying to distance themselves from Ethan as quickly as possible.
The board members,
men who had laughed at Miranda’s jokes moments ago,
were now surrounding me,
offering their apologies.
“Olivia,
we had no idea,”
one of them said,
his voice shaking.
“We were misled.
We want to keep you on the board.
We want to make this right.”
I looked at the man,
a billionaire in his own right,
and felt nothing but pity.
“The board is being dissolved,”
I said coldly.
“My father’s firm has already acquired fifty-one percent of the shares through various shell companies over the last hour.
The market is reacting to the news of the divorce,
and the price dropped exactly where we wanted it.”
Ethan fell to his knees.
The custom tuxedo I had picked out for him was now stained with the champagne he had spilled in his shock.
“Olivia,
please,”
he sobbed,
the microphone picking up his pathetic whimpers.
“I loved you.
I was just confused.
The stress of the company...”
“The stress of the company didn't cause those miscarriages,
Ethan,”
I said,
my voice dropping to a whisper that only he could hear.
“Your neglect did.
Your absence did.
And your cruelty tonight?
That was your own choice.”
May you like
I turned away from him,
refusing to watch him crumble any further.
