8

He scowled, his brows tightening. Wh-what was she saying? What did she mean by those words?

"If it weren't for you, how would he die?" Miriam continued, her confidence seemingly starting to soar.

Roberto was honestly confused. How could she say such a thing?

"You're trying to play mind games? That's not going to work on me," 

She scoffed. "This isn't a game. Roberto, mention one word about divorcing me again, and I'll help you tear down your image. You'll watch from behind bars as your treasured company hits its most-deserved nadir," 

Having let out this warning, she made a sharp pivot, heading towards the room's exit.

Roberto, though flustered, didn't attempt to stop her. For all he knew, he was innocent. He would never kill anyone.

Seeing that he wasn't frantically following her, Miriam stopped in her tracks but didn't turn back. "You do recall Myles, right?"

Myles....

"Myles Watson. He used to be your rival in love." 

Roberto remembered that man. Indeed, he had once felt the latter was a threat to him winning Miriam's heart back then. Yes, that man was dead as well, but he didn't have a hand in it. What foul nonsense was his wife spouting?

"I didn't kill him,"

"He died thanks to you. You can keep doubting me. That's alright. Tomorrow, we'll see," scoffing, she exited the room, not even bothering to shut the door.

Roberto was expectedly worried. How could Myles' death have been related to him? What so-called proof did Miriam have? Why didn't he remember doing anything that could be counted as solid proof to be used against him and his business?

He paced about the room, his brows furrowed.

He was sure he was innocent.

But then... could Miriam really be right? Had he perhaps gotten drunk and killed someone and didn't remember?

No.

He shook his head. That shouldn't be possible. Right...?

"This..." he exhaled a worried sigh.

He wanted to end their relationship as husband and wife, but she brought this issue up now. And she seemed so confident that he would be locked behind bars, surely.

He facepalmed, sitting on the bed once more, his thoughts running different pessimistic tracks.

Ten minutes later, he descended the stairs and found his wife perched on the couch with a leg draped over the other. Atop the tree stump side table on her left, a bowlful of snacks rested. Miriam's eyes were fixed on the TV screen, looking very much engrossed.

In contrast to a worried him...

He slowly made his way over to her. He stood beside her; his lips parted and moved, but... no words showed up.

Two minutes passed...

Her gaze was still on the movie playing out. She didn't seem to notice him at all.

He couldn't continue like this.

So he summoned every boldness in him and spoke up. "M-miriam..."

She didn't look at him.

He tried calling her again. This time, she looked at him. Only for a second, though, because her gaze quickly returned to the film.

A sense of despair and mounting apprehension tugged at his insides.

"What is it?" Her voice was cold.

"I'm sorry. I won't divorce you anymore," he felt a bitter taste in his mouth as he said this. But what could he do?

He couldn't risk his image and business hitting the pits. So whether his wife's claim was true or not, he wouldn't insist on the divorce... for now.

"Nah, you need not worry. I'll agree to sign the papers. Just give me 30 minutes," she told him without tearing her gaze off the screen.

Roberto sighed, "I'm sorry for hurting you. It...wasn't intentional,"

Whipping her head to look at him, a sarcastic look on her face, she asked, "Really? Do I look like I have vision problems?" 

"Look, you hurt me as well."

"Did I try to snuff out your life?" She asked, a brow lifted. "True, I slapped you. That wasn't right. But if you wanted to return the favour with one or two slaps, that's enough to count as revenge, no?"

Roberto didn't say anything. 

"Forget it, you've ruined my mood." She rose and, ignoring his calls, rushed up the stairs, heading to their matrimonial bedroom. 

When Roberto got to the room, she handed him a signed document. "Congratulations, you've gotten your wish."

With that, she returned to start packing her things. 

Flustered, Roberto rushed up to her. "I already told you I'm no more interested in ending our marriage," he stressed. 

She rolled her eyes but didn't answer. 

Roberto gritted his teeth and did what he never thought he would be doing in a million years, today. He lowered himself to his knees and tore the document into shreds, letting the pieces fall over his head.

"Miriam, please, don't leave me. I'm sorry for how I treated you," he pleaded.

"I won't forgive you. Thankfully, you have more copies. I'll keep signing until you can no longer tear the documents," she spat, turning to head to the closet.

Roberto held her leg and continued imploring.

A while later, she harrumphed and sat on the bed. "Fine, I will remain your wife. As a good wife, I won't expose your secret. As long as we remain hubby and wifey, we'll only prosper. Don't you agree?" She smiled daringly at him. 

He could only nod in agreement. 

She helped him stand up and told him to kiss her. 

He felt sick. The thought of kissing her. 

He felt queasy. 

"I can sign the papers if you have second thoughts," she reminded him with a grin. 

Roberto quickly locked his lips with hers. 

The kiss ended quickly, though. 

Miriam looked happy in contrast to him, who had to wear a contrived smile. 

"It would have been nice if this kiss had led to the bed groaning," she smirkingly said, "...but... I have something else in mind. Since you won't give me the ten million, it's alright; I want you to accompany me to tonight's event, though."

"Miriam, I have a lot to do tonight," he divulged. That was true. 

Miriam shook her head in disagreement. "No, hubby. You have to follow me and reaffirm your love for me as your darling wife in public."

Roberto wanted to keep refusing, but he didn't want her exposing his supposed dirt and ruining him. 

So, with no other choice, he agreed to accompany her to the function.