Chapter 3: Divorce Him and Claim Your Reward

Veldana

The glowing blue screen floated in front of my face. I didn't touch it. I shrank back against the bedpost, my heart pounding in my ears.

'Hallucination,' I thought, wiping my cold forehead. A dying mind could make up all kinds of things. Maybe my body was still lying on the frozen ground outside the bunker while the horde chewed on my bones.

[ALERT: HOST MENTAL STATE STABILIZING.]

[REMINDER: THIS IS NOT A HALLUCINATION.]

The chime sounded again inside my skull. It felt smooth and cold, nothing like my racing heart.

"What are you?" I whispered, glancing at the bed. Leo was still asleep under the duvet.

[DESIGNATION: CELESTIAL SYSTEM.]

[FUNCTION: SURVIVAL PROTOCOL AND DOMAIN CONVERSION.]

[MISSION STATUS: TEMPORAL REGRESSION PHASE ONE DONE.]

"Can anyone else see you?" I asked.

[NO. ONLY THE HOST CAN SEE THE SYSTEM.]

"Good."

Blueprints flashed across the panel: underground forts, air filters, defense grids, medicine labs.

[THE SYSTEM GIVES ACCESS TO HIGH-TIER ASSETS: COMBAT UPGRADES, FORTRESS BLUEPRINTS, RARE RESOURCES, AND SURVIVAL GEAR.]

[TO UNLOCK THEM, THE HOST MUST FINISH MISSIONS.]

The words sank in. In my old life, our bunker had failed because of greed, empty shelves, and old technology. We had no antibiotics. Our farm system died after three months. And I had no power to stop the people who turned on me.

"What does this system want from me?" I asked quietly.

[CORE DIRECTIVE: HOST SURVIVAL AND DOMINANCE.]

[FIRST STEP: REMOVE ALL LIABILITIES.]

[GENERATING STARTER MISSION...]

[MISSION #001: CUT OFF THE PARASITE.]

[OBJECTIVE: END ALL LEGAL, MONEY, AND MARRIAGE TIES WITH LINCOLN GIBSON.]

[REWARD:

1. STARTER SPATIAL STORAGE (500 CUBIC METERS, TIME STOPPED INSIDE).

2. STARTER SURVIVAL SUPPLIES (10 METRIC TONS OF MEDICINE, FOOD, AND WATER PURIFIERS).

3. ONE SAPPHIRE GEM (TIER 1 UNLOCK).]

Storage where time stopped. Food wouldn't rot, and medicine wouldn't expire. An army would kill for that. A real smile curled my lips for the first time since I woke up.

"Accept," I said, without a second of doubt. "I accept."

[MISSION ACCEPTED. TIMER: SEVENTY-TWO HOURS.]

The window shrank into a small icon in the corner of my eye. I didn't waste a minute. The fog that had clouded my mind for three years was gone, burned away by the memory of Jenny in my sweater while I bled.

I took my phone to the home office down the hall, closed the door, and sat at my father's old desk. I dialed a number I knew by heart.

"Julian Vance speaking."

Julian had been my father's lawyer for twenty-five years and managed the Cross Family Trust. I had pushed him aside for two years because Lincoln said he was "overstepping."

"Julian, it's Veldana."

"Veldana. Is something wrong? It's not even seven in the morning."

"I need every account under my name frozen. Stop all transfers to Gibson Enterprises today. Then pull the full records for every account tied to Lincoln and his mother for the last two years."

Julian paused. "Are you sure? A full freeze means invoking the trust charter. Lincoln will lose his working money."

"Do it. And send your accounting team into the Gibson Holdings books by noon. I think someone has been stealing from the trust."

"Does Lincoln know?"

"Not yet. He will soon. And not a word to Evelyn."

"I've waited eighteen months for this call," Julian said. "Give me three hours."

"Thank you. Start the divorce papers too. Full separation of assets and sole custody of Leo."

"Consider it done. Veldana, what changed?"

"I woke up," I said, and hung up.

I opened my laptop. For three years, I had let Lincoln run our household money because he said it protected me from stress. I had been an idiot.

Within forty minutes, Julian's files arrived, and I clenched my jaw. Over four million dollars had gone through shell companies in the Cayman Islands in one year.

One payment stood out: forty-five thousand dollars every month to a high-rise in the city center. The tenant was Jenny Hall.

Then I found Cartier bracelets and weekends in Aspen and St. Barts, trips Lincoln had called "work conferences."

And there was Evelyn. Eighty thousand dollars a month came out of my father's property income, labeled "family allowance."

In three years she had taken almost three million dollars while she sat on my furniture and told people I smelled like the lower class.

I didn't cry. The tears had run out on that frozen ground. I selected every linked account and card.

Lincoln Gibson: Access Revoked.

Evelyn Gibson: Allowance Terminated.

Gibson Holdings Line of Credit: Suspended.

I pressed the master key and the wheel spun, then turned green.

[CONFIRMED: ALL SECONDARY CARDS AND TRANSFERS ENDED BY ORDER OF THE PRIMARY OWNER.]

"Enjoy your breakfast at the club, Lincoln," I murmured.

Ten minutes later, my phone buzzed across the desk. Lincoln's name lit up. I let it ring. It buzzed again, then a third time. By the fifth call, I answered and stayed silent.

"Veldana! What the hell is going on?" His voice shook with anger. Behind him, I could hear plates and silverware at his club. "My black card was declined! My business account shows zero! Did you touch the accounts?"

"Yes."

"Why?" he demanded. "Have you lost your mind?" he hissed, keeping his voice low. "The Vanguard directors are sitting at my table! Call the banker and fix this!"

"The Gibson family can use Gibson money," I said, leaning back in my chair. "My father's money won't pay for your lifestyle anymore."

"We're married! That's marital property—"

"The trust is protected by a prenup your own father read before our wedding," I cut in. "None of it is marital property. Neither is this house, the warehouses in the eastern harbor, or the offshore accounts."

"Stop this stupid game, Veldana! If this is about last night, or Mother's retreat, we can talk at home. But don't touch my business! Call the bank, or I swear to God—"

"I found the payments to the Highline apartment, Lincoln," I said softly.

Silence. For four long seconds, he said nothing. I heard his uneven breathing.

"You went through my files?" he stammered. "That's an investment property. Jenny is just managing the staging. You're jumping to conclusions—"

"Save it," I said. "I saw the Cartier receipts. I saw the St. Barts bookings. I know what you've been doing, and I know who Jenny is to you."

He breathed out, shaken. But he didn't say sorry. His voice turned into a sneer.

"You're spying on me now? You think you're so smart? Who would ever want you for your charm? You're an insecure, paranoid woman who buys people because you have nothing else to offer!"

"That's why you married me, isn't it?" I asked, unmoved. "You needed my money. Well, the bank is closed. Your mother's allowance is gone too."

"What? You can't cut off Mother!"

"I just did."

"You need me," he snarled. "Who will run your father's supply chains? Who will represent you in high society? A divorced mother with no manners? This city would eat you alive in six months."

"I'm serving you divorce papers this afternoon," I said, looking at the skyline. "Pack your things and leave my house before five o'clock. If you or your mother come back, security will drag you out in handcuffs."

He laughed, the same arrogant laugh Evelyn made in the bunker before the nightmare began. He truly believed I was throwing a tantrum, and that my love would pull me crawling back to him.

"A divorce?" he sneered. "Fine. If you think you can survive without me, sign the papers. Let's see how long you last."