Chapter 4
780words
Enzo stared at my flat abdomen.
"Where's the child? Our child. Where is he?" His voice shook, though he did not seem aware of it.
I tugged weakly at the corner of my mouth.
"Our child? Enzo, he's been gone for a long time. Since the day the armory exploded." My voice sounded light, almost distant.
His pupils shrank, and he snapped sharply, "Stop this. Sophia, how long are you going to keep acting out? I ignored you for a moment back then. Was that really enough to drive you this far?
"You gave birth in secret, didn't you? You hid the baby somewhere. Tell me where he is. Did you send him to an orphanage?"
As he spoke, he reached out and tried to touch my stomach.
I gathered what little strength I had left and slapped his hand away.
A cold laugh escaped me. "I told you the child is dead. You keep asking all this, Enzo. What is it? Are you suddenly regretting the divorce?"
"How could I be?" He reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, his voice jumping in pitch. "Of course we're divorcing. But you have to apologize to Monica first. If you hadn't deliberately set off the explosion, would she have been hurt? Look at her."
He pointed to the faint scrape on Monica's arm. It was so light it was barely visible, yet his tone was dark and accusatory.
"This is all your doing."
I followed the direction of his finger.
Monica's eyes were red as she spoke with practiced magnanimity. "Don, forget it. What's done is done. I've already forgiven the Donna. As long as you two can reconcile, I don't mind suffering a little."
Her performance was flawless. I ignored the pain tearing through my body and looked at Enzo. "Fine. Since Monica is so generous, and everything is 'in the past,' and she's forgiven me, then let's not get divorced."
Enzo froze. He had clearly not expected that. His brows knitted as he studied me. Then understanding dawned, and he sneered, "I knew it. You're still playing games. Taking a step back to move forward, right? Sophia, this is all you've got. I already brought the divorce papers. We're signing today, no matter what."
I met the fury burning in his eyes and the open disgust he made no effort to hide.
As expected, provoking him worked fastest.
I did not hesitate. I did not bother reading the clauses that were surely stacked against me. I took the agreement, pulled a pen from my bag, and signed my name wherever it was required.
The scratch of pen against paper sounded crisp and final.
"There." I handed the documents back to him. My actions were clean and decisive.
Enzo took them. His gaze flicked to my signature, and the confident mockery on his face stiffened. He had not expected me to sign so easily, without a second glance.
The lawyer beside him checked the paperwork and lowered his voice. "The primary procedures are complete. Some asset filings will take time, but the dissolution of the marriage takes effect immediately."
"You…" Enzo looked at me. His expression was complicated.
Anger still smoldered there. Surprise followed close behind, born from losing control of the situation. Beneath it all lay a faint, almost imperceptible emptiness that even he seemed unaware of.
He had finally gotten the divorce he claimed to want so badly. Yet the breakdown, the pleading, the ugly desperation he had expected from me never appeared.
The woman standing before him was pale and weak. Blood still smeared her temple from the fall, but her back remained straight.
When it became clear that everything was truly over, Monica put on a mask of concern and drifted closer. She reached out as if to support me. "Miss Vitale, look at you. You're barely standing, and you're all alone now. You really need to take good care of yourself."
She leaned in. Her breath brushed my ear, and her voice dropped to a whisper meant only for me. "See? Even starting over, you're still just as stupid. Still a loser. You couldn't beat me in your last life, and this one is no different. I played you the same way.
"If you had known your place and crawled away earlier, your two kids wouldn't have died young in both lives. If you want to blame anyone, blame yourself for being a weak, useless mother."
The instant she finished speaking, my hand snapped up. A sharp, ringing slap landed squarely across Monica's carefully composed smile.
