CHAPTER 2: THE DIVORCE

Ethan was already standing at the door. He did not even look back.

"Ethan, wait!" I called.

"Sign the papers, Clara," Margaret said. "My son has nothing more to say to you."

"Then he can say it to my face."

Ethan stopped with his hand on the door handle.

"Fine. Say whatever you want to say."

"You just watched your daughters being born. Don't you want to hold one of them?"

"I looked. I saw five girls." He slowly turned to face me. "That is all I saw."

"That is all you saw? Nine months, Ethan. Nine months, and that is all you saw?"

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

"Harder for whom?"

He did not answer.

Margaret took a thick envelope from her handbag. It was clear that she had come prepared.

"You knew about this before I went into labor," I said, staring at her.

"I knew my son's patience had limits," Margaret replied coldly. "Sign the last page. The yellow tabs show you where to sign."

I looked down at the first page.

DIVORCE AGREEMENT.

Ethan Sterling and Clara Sterling.

My name looked strange in black ink, as if it belonged to someone else.

"I know what I'm giving up," I said quietly. "I'm giving up you."

For a moment, Ethan's expression changed. He moved back slightly, as if my words had hurt him. But the moment passed, and his face became cold again.

"You're giving up the Sterling name," he said. "Nothing more."

"Nothing more?" I looked down at my daughters. "Ethan, there are five of them."

"Five girls who cannot carry on the family name."

"They are your own blood!"

"Girls are not blood. Girls are only visitors in this family," Margaret said. "They leave when they get married."

"Visitors? They are your granddaughters!"

"Granddaughters I never asked for."

"Mother, not now," Ethan said.

"Then when? After she has spent all our money?"

The nurse moved closer to my bed.

"Mrs. Sterling, you're still bleeding. You shouldn't sign anything right now."

"Please," I said softly. "Just give me a minute. If I sign the papers, will you leave my daughters alone?"

Margaret tapped the third page with one of her long red nails.

"Sign here, and the girls will not be part of the family trust. Refuse, and my son will fight you for full custody. Do you really want to go to court over five jinxes?"

I stared at her in shock.

"You would take my babies to court?"

"We would make your life very difficult," she replied without any shame. "You will lose either way."

"The court will not take babies away from their mother."

"The court will listen to the Sterling lawyers," Ethan said. "I have the best lawyers in New York."

I turned to him, hoping there was still some kindness left in his heart.

"Ethan, please. They are your daughters."

"Then prove it by signing," he said. "Sign the papers, and they will be safe from this family. Refuse, and you will never see them again."

My heart sank.

"You would threaten to take your own children away from me?"

"I would threaten to take five mistakes."

"Stop it!" the nurse said sharply. "Sir, you cannot say that in this room."

"I can say whatever I want in a room I paid for."

My hands were wet with sweat. I tried to hold the pen, but my fingers were shaking.

I pressed the pen against the paper, but it slipped from my hand and rolled onto the floor.

"Clara, just sign it," Ethan said impatiently.

"Don't rush me!"

"Then stop wasting time."

"Time? You gave me one minute to choose between my husband and my children!"

"Then choose quickly."

The nurse bent down, picked up the pen, and placed it back in my hand.

"Take your time, Mrs. Sterling. But don't take too long."

I looked down at my daughters.

One of them made a small sound from inside her blanket. Another opened her mouth and yawned. The third turned her little face toward my chest, looking for milk.

"Look at her," I whispered. "She's looking for me."

"Sign," Margaret ordered.

"Don't you dare rush me again. I am signing my life away, Margaret. Give me that much respect."

"Then sign it," Margaret said with a smile.

I took a shaky breath and lowered the pen to the paper.

I signed the papers to protect my daughters. I did not sign because I believed in this family or accepted what they were doing to me.

My signature was shaky, but it was there.

Then I signed the second line.

Then the third.

"There," Margaret said with satisfaction.

She took the papers from the bed and carefully placed them inside her handbag.

"That wasn't so difficult."

I stared at her, unable to believe how heartless she could be.

"I just gave birth," I said. "You could have waited one day."

"Yes, and you are no longer useful to us."

The nurse gasped.

"Mrs. Sterling! You cannot say that to a woman who has just given birth!"

"I can say whatever I want in my son's hospital," Margaret replied proudly. "He pays for it."

Ethan's eyes moved toward the babies for a moment before he looked away again.

He did not hold them.

He did not even try to reach out and touch one of them.

"Ethan," I said quietly. "Please. Just hold one of them."

"No."

One word.

That was all he gave me.

He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a black card. Without saying anything else, he threw it onto the bed.

It landed on the blanket, right beside Aria's tiny fist.

I stared at the card, confused.

"One million dollars," Ethan said. "Consider it your payment. Spend it wisely. Once it's gone, you won't get another penny from this family."

"Payment for what?"

"For the years you spent as my wife."

"I didn't spend those years. I gave them to you."

"Then call it even."

I slowly picked up the card.

It felt heavy and cold in my hand. There was no name printed on it.

"You think a card can pay for five daughters?" I asked.

"I think it is more than enough."

"One day, you will regret this, Ethan."

"Regret?" He gave a short laugh. "I never regret anything."

Then he walked out. Margaret followed him without saying a word.

The door closed with a soft click.

"Mrs. Sterling, are you all right?" the nurse asked softly.

"No," I whispered. "But I will be."

"Is there someone I can call for you?"

"There is no one. Only them."

I looked at my five daughters, and for the first time that day, I did not feel afraid.

I held the card tightly. My heart was full of pain and anger.

Was this what my marriage meant to him? A few signatures, five unwanted daughters, and a card worth one million dollars?

He thought money could solve everything.

Then, suddenly, a familiar voice sounded inside my head.

"Ding! Host, the black card has been linked to your account."

My eyes widened.

The blue screen appeared in front of me again.

"Mission Two: Make the billionaire regret every word he said today."

I stared at the words, hardly believing what I was seeing.

Then another line appeared.

"Regret Meter: 1 percent."