Don Cheats, I Quit!

Alice Ortega tried to break free from Xavier Whitmore, but he held on to her tightly like a boy who refused to let go of his favorite toy.

They looked like they were reenacting Romeo and Juliet, a pair of star-crossed lovers.

What about me? Did my official title as the Donna count for anything?

I felt my blood run cold upon witnessing their interaction.

“Xavier, let go, we can’t…”

“I’ve already given you to my brother once. Do you expect me to let another man have you again?”

The veins on his forehead seemed about to pop. His usual calm and stoic demeanor was replaced with a torrent of anger and jealousy.

I had to wrap my arms around myself to stop myself from trembling.

Six months ago, I was kidnapped by a rat in the family. He held me hostage and used me as leverage to get Xavier to step down from his position.

Xavier seemed completely unfazed during the negotiation with the traitor. Then, when there was a moment’s distraction, Xavier gunned him down.

In my mind, he was always an expressionless, stoic man.

It was a shock for me to see that he could be brought out of his shell, capable of jealousy and wanting affection.

I supposed I was not worthy of his affection at the end of the day.

“Xavier, please listen to me and let go. We can’t do this, think about Grace…”

I delusionally waited for his response, only to hear him produce a long sigh.

“Five years back, I already told her not to hatch any ideas about me. She should know better by now.

“She already got the money she wanted, while I saved myself for you. We both got what we wanted.”

His words struck me like a heavy blow. It shattered the beautiful fantasy I had about us over the last five years.

All this time, I held out the hope that as long as I listened to him and stuck by his side, he would be touched by my devotion and come to develop feelings for me one day.

As it turned out, I had been delusional this entire time. It was all but a baseless fantasy.

“Grace, you're back!”

It was Alice who noticed me first.

She gasped while shoving Xavier away from her.

She regarded me with a look of cruel pity, as if she was sorry for me because she knew I was nothing but a replacement.

When Xavier turned around, the lingering warmth in his eyes dissipated the moment he made eye contact with me.

“Why do you look so beaten up?” He frowned while scrutinizing me from head to toe.

I observed my bloodied knees before wiping the blood of an underling from my face.

“The Moores attacked us in an alleyway at the Harvest Market. It was Annie who helped me escape.”

“Alright. Get a doctor. I'll take care of it tomorrow.” I finally caught a hint of anger in his voice, but it quickly reverted to his usual tone of indifference.

“Xavier, I... I want to talk to you in person.”

He glanced at his watch and frowned before brushing me off, “That can wait until I get back. I need to take Alice to... the hospital.”

“It's important. It won't take more than a few minutes.”

I was persistent.

Xavier's patience had finally run out. At last, he stated in a tone that was not to be defied, “Grace, you’re a Donna. You should have a better sense of judgment and know not to cause trouble.”

With that, he turned around and escorted Alice outside without bothering to look back.

The roar of his car’s engine soon faded into the distance, as if mocking me for my last five years of false courage.

With that, I turned around and slowly went up the stairs.

The wound on my knee hurt so bad that I had to clench my teeth through it. And yet, it was nothing compared to the agonizing feeling in my heart.

Upon entering the bedroom, I calmly opened the bottom compartment of the safe.

It contained the same divorce papers he had chucked at me on our wedding night five years ago.

“Grace, we are both in this to get what we want. If the day ever comes when you feel like you’ve had enough or if I feel like you are no longer qualified, this divorce agreement can be invoked immediately.”

I had had enough. Besides, I did not consider myself “qualified” anymore.

My hands were shaking as I carefully signed my name on the sallow, aged paper.