2. The Ruthless Queen

Once again, Mario booked a ride-hailing motorcycle to meet his ex-wife at the office of attorney Rinaldo Situmorang downtown.

After a 30-minute trip, he arrived at the law firm. He thanked the driver, and entered the impressive five-story office building.

"Good afternoon, Sir. How may I help you?" the front desk receptionist greeted him.

Mario stood at the counter and replied, "Good afternoon, Ma’am. I have an appointment to meet Rosita. Is she here?"

The receptionist glanced at a colleague beside her, who gave a meaningful nod. "Oh yes, Sir. Please wait just a moment while I let her know. Have a seat first," she said politely.

Soon after, Rosita emerged from the back of the office, and walked toward where Mario was sitting. She gave him a sweet smile, looking striking in a black cocktail dress that showed off her smooth white arms, and thighs. She carried a designer handbag, and the click of her high heels echoed clearly against the floor as she approached the sofa.

She brushed her long, straight hair over one shoulder, and looked at him. "What do you need, sir? It’s unusual for you to look for me," Rosita said casually, as if she felt no guilt at all.

Mario stared at her with a troubled expression, part anger, part sadness, part despair. "Ros, my house, car, and gym equipment have all been seized by the bank. Did you know about this?"

To Mario’s shock, Rosita burst out laughing. "Hahaha … so they seized everything today, did they?"

Mario was stunned. "Why are you laughing, Ros?!"

"I’m sorry, Mario. I used the bank loan money for my daily expenses. You know how it is, women have so many needs," Rosita said without a hint of remorse, still smiling.

"Daily expenses? Ros, that loan was nearly two billion rupiah. Have you lost your mind?!" Mario shot back, barely able to believe his ex-wife’s words. He felt like exploding with rage.

Rosita glanced down at her sharp, blood-red manicured nails. "Lots of things, Sir, body treatments, bags, clothes, group savings clubs … I mean, there was a lot. I don’t feel like listing everything one by one!"

Mario pressed his palm to his forehead. All his assets had been used as collateral for a loan his ex-wife had spent on frivolous luxuries. His heart shattered, just like his future.

"Ros, have you gone crazy? My life is ruined! You’re having fun at my expense," he said weakly.

His ex-wife scoffed, eyeing him coldly. "You should know better! You married me, yet you were so stingy with spending money. Women need cash to take care of themselves, and look good. How embarrassing to be married to a fitness celebrity, and look plain!"

"Oh my god, Ros. I never knew you were this materialistic. Did you ever even love me during our two years of marriage?" Mario asked in disbelief, as if he didn’t recognize the woman in front of him. This was the same person who’d shared his ups, and downs since the start of his career, who’d shared his bed for nearly two years.

"LOVE?!" Rosita exclaimed with a sneer. "What’s love, sir? It doesn’t fill your stomach, and it certainly doesn’t make you beautiful!"

Mario covered his face with both hands, fighting back tears. His ex-wife felt no guilt, or concern for his situation, instead, she judged him. The love he’d once given her meant nothing to her now.

He remembered how she’d showered him with praise in the past, how she’d whispered words of love when they were dating, and in the early days of their marriage. Nothing like now. It was just like that popular saying these days: "If you have money, I love you, dear. If you don’t, I’ll kick you to the curb."

Mario suddenly recalled why he’d come to see her. "Ros, what about our joint savings account? Is that still there?" he asked hopefully. It held money he’d set aside throughout his career.

Rosita laughed loudly, looking at him with bewilderment. "Sir, what joint savings account? That’s been empty for a long time."

Her answer left Mario reeling. There should have been several hundred million rupiah in there—earnings from his commercial contracts, and social media endorsements.

"ROSITA, YOU’VE GONE TOO FAR!" Mario shouted, standing up, and pointing at her face. He could no longer hold back his emotions.

Rinaldo Situmorang rushed over to him. "Sir, please calm down!"

Rosita stood up quickly, and wrapped her arm around Rinaldo’s waist. "Mr. Aldo, I’m scared … my ex-husband has been yelling at me this whole time," she said in a feigned innocent tone, acting as if she were terrified.

Seeing his ex-wife being affectionate with their divorce lawyer left Mario stunned. Had they been seeing each other behind his back?

"Mr. Aldo, are you dating Rosita?" Mario demanded impatiently.

Rinaldo looked at him seriously, and replied, "Rosita is my wife now, sir. We got married two weeks ago."

The words hit Mario like a punch to the gut. It hadn’t taken his ex-wife long to move on from him.

Mario let out a heavy sigh. Life had dealt him a cruel hand. He’d clearly chosen the wrong wife. His mother had been right when he’d asked for her blessing to marry, beauty wasn’t a guarantee of marital happiness. His luck was truly terrible!

"Mr. Mario, if you’re done talking to me, you should probably head home …" Rosita said sarcastically, still clinging to her new husband’s waist.

"Oh, Mr. Aldo. Should we go have lunch at PS Mall?" she asked.

"Absolutely, let’s leave now, Ros," Rinaldo replied tenderly.

"We’ll be going now, Mr. Mario," Rinaldo said, smiling with a look of triumph as he put his arm around Rosita’s shoulder, and led her toward the building’s exit.

Mario collapsed onto the sofa. His world was in ruins. He held his head in his hands, and stared at the floor.

Clear tears streamed from the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t hold back the pain in his heart any longer.

Once, he’d been adored, and praised by millions of women across the country. They’d called him handsome, sexy, hot, macho, and more.

Now, he couldn’t even bear to look at himself in a mirror. Everything inside him was gone. His confidence was shattered, and he felt his self-worth had been trampled into the ground with no way to fight back. Everything he’d owned had vanished without a trace. He’d become a penniless man with no future.

Mario Chandra was no longer the glamorous fitness celebrity admired by women everywhere. He was nobody at all!

Finally, Mario left Rinaldo Situmorang’s office building, and began walking. He had no idea where to go. He wandered along the sidewalk until he spotted a small street food stall, then stepped under its awning, and sat on the long wooden bench in front of the cart.

"Sir, one sweet tea, and one serving of vegetable rice, please," he ordered, feeling weak from not having eaten all day.

When his food arrived, Mario ate it quickly without complaining about its simple appearance, or taste. He needed to regain his strength, that was all that mattered right now.