~~~DIVORCED BY MY HEARTBEAT~~~

~~~DIVORCE BY MY HEARTBEAT~~~

~~~ Soane’S POV~~~

The diamond on Soren’s finger glitters under the chandelier like it is mocking me.

My ring.

The one Jophiel slid onto my finger barely two hours ago while he promised me forever in front of hundreds of people.

Now, it sits on her hand.

For a moment, my brain simply refuses to process it.

The room feels like it tilts sideways. Music is still playing somewhere in the background, but it sounds warped and distant, like I’m hearing it from underwater.

Every single person in the room is staring at me now. Their eyes are glued to my face, my body, my reaction.

Some look uncomfortable. Some look curious. And some… some look entertained, like this entire situation is the best drama they have seen all year.

Soren raises her hand a little higher, twisting her wrist just enough so the light catches the diamond again.

“My fiancé proposed tonight,” she says sweetly, her voice dripping with fake innocence.

My heartbeat slams violently inside my chest. My fingers curl into fists at my sides as my brain finally catches up with what I am seeing.

“That’s… my ring,” I say, my voice coming out thin and strangled.

Soren’s lips stretch into a slow smile.

“Oh sweetheart,” she murmurs, her tone full of patronizing pity. “It was your ring.”

The room explodes with laughter.

Something in my chest breaks.

Before I even realize what I am doing, my hand swings forward and cracks across Soren’s face with a loud, vicious SMACK.

The sound slices through the music like a gunshot.

Gasps ripple through the crowd.

Soren’s head snaps violently to the side, her hair whipping across her face as she stumbles back half a step. The music cuts off abruptly as someone near the speakers scrambles to pause it. The entire room falls into stunned silence.

My hand is still raised in the air, trembling.

“You fucking bitch,” I breathe, my chest heaving as rage surges through every vein in my body. “You wore my dress to help me get married this morning and now you’re sitting on my husband’s lap with my ring on your finger?”

Soren slowly lifts her hand and touches the red mark blooming across her cheek.

Then she laughs.

Not embarrassed.

Not ashamed.

Just… amused.

“Oh my God,” she says, shaking her head as if she finds the entire thing hilarious. “You finally grew a spine.”

Before I can even react, her arm swings back and her palm crashes across my face with equal force.

The impact explodes across my cheek.

My head jerks sideways as pain bursts behind my eyes.

“You pathetic little idiot,” Soren spits, stepping closer to me, her eyes blazing with open hatred. “You think you get to hit me and walk away?”

My palm flies back toward her before my brain can stop it.

SLAP.

Her head snaps back again.

A collective gasp erupts around us.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME!” I shout, my voice shaking with fury. “You slimy, backstabbing slut!”

Soren lunges forward, grabbing a fistful of my robe collar.

“Oh please,” she sneers. “Stop acting like the victim. You practically handed him to me on a silver platter.”

Jophiel finally steps forward between us, his expression twisted with irritation rather than shock.

“Enough,” he snaps coldly, grabbing my wrist when I try to shove Soren again. “Stop embarrassing yourself, Soane.”

Embarrassing myself.

The words hit me harder than the slap.

“You left our bed,” I say hoarsely, staring at him like I am seeing a stranger. “You left me naked upstairs and came down here to propose to her.”

He exhales slowly like I am exhausting him.

“Oh my God, are you really going to start crying about this now?” he mutters.

The room murmurs.

People whisper.

Somebody actually chuckles.

Soren wraps an arm around his waist and leans comfortably into him like she belongs there.

“We didn’t plan to drag it out this long,” she says casually, examining her nails. “But honestly? Watching you smile at the wedding today was too good to interrupt.”

My stomach drops.

“What?”

“Oh come on,” she says with a shrug. “You didn’t think he actually loved you, did you?”

The words punch the air out of my lungs.

Jophiel runs a hand through his hair and sighs dramatically like he is finally tired of pretending.

“You made things very easy for us, Soane,” he says. “You’re rich, hardworking, predictable, and stupidly loyal. It was the perfect setup.”

The room bursts into low laughter again.

My ears ring.

“You’re lying,” I whisper.

Soren laughs outright.

“Oh honey, the whole relationship was the plan,” she says. “I told Jophiel exactly what kind of man you liked. The sweet, respectful type. The patient gentleman. The man who pretends to admire your ‘independence’ while quietly letting you fund his life.”

She pats Jophiel’s chest proudly.

“And he played the role perfectly.”

My knees nearly buckle.

“You’re all insane,” I say hoarsely, my gaze darting desperately around the room for someone—anyone—who looks uncomfortable enough to defend me.

No one does.

My parents stand near the bar.

Watching.

Not shocked.

Not angry.

Just… waiting.

“You divorce me for her?” I demand, my voice rising. “After everything I’ve done for you? After everything I’ve given this family?”

The room erupts into laughter again.

Jophiel shakes his head, smiling like he finds my outrage adorable.

“I actually love the fact that you’re this dumb,” he says. “It made the entire plan work.”

Soren claps slowly beside him.

“That’s right,” she says. “Five years of investment finally paid off.”

The words feel like knives being shoved into my ribs.

“Investment?” I choke.

“Oh relax,” she says. “At least we let you have your dream wedding first.”

She lifts her champagne glass and clinks it against Jophiel’s.

“Congratulations,” she adds mockingly. “You got one perfect day with the love of your life.”

My chest feels like it is collapsing.

Then Soren reaches forward suddenly and shoves a folder against my chest.

“Sign,” she says.

The impact jolts me back a step.

“Divorce papers,” she continues casually. “And the prenup you signed earlier makes things very convenient.”

My fingers tremble as I open the envelope.

The words blur at first.

Then they come into focus.

All properties owned by Soane Winston… transferred to Jophiel upon divorce under clause 8 of the prenuptial agreement.

The blood drains from my face.

They didn’t just betray me.

They robbed me.

I look up slowly.

“You planned this,” I whisper.

Soren smiles.

Jophiel shrugs.

And behind them, my father steps forward.

“Yes,” he says calmly.

The final piece of my heart cracks.

“Dad…?” I whisper.

His expression is cold.

“I’m not your father,” he replies flatly.

The room spins.

“Neither am I your mother,” the woman beside him adds casually.

“And of course we planned it,” Soren says brightly.

The laughter returns.

The music starts playing again.

And I realize something horrifying.

Every single person in this room already knew.

Every single one.

Soren presses a pen into my shaking hand.

“Sign the papers,” she says sweetly. “Then go pack your things.”

My chest rises and falls rapidly as I stare at the page.

For a moment I think I might collapse.

Instead, I sign.

SOANE.

The moment the ink dries, the music explodes back to life.

People cheer.

Champagne bottles pop.

And Jophiel pulls Soren into his arms and kisses her like I never existed.

This is all I have left of my mother. She owned everything and left it to me, and now it is gone. Just gone. Stolen like it never belonged to me.

The sight finally breaks whatever control I have left.

Igrabbedb Soren by the arm and yank her away from him.

“YOU FUCKING SLUT -”

My hand flies across her face again.

The slap echoes through the room.

“You ruined my life!” I scream.

Before I can move again, Jophiel grabs me from behind while Soren storms forward and slaps me three times in rapid succession.

Each one harder than the last.

“GET OUT!” she screams, shoving me toward the staircase. “Get the hell out of my house!”

Stars burst behind my eyes.

The room spins.

And for the first time tonight, I finally start to cry.