Chapter 2

Victor's head throbbed as he stepped out of his car, staggering. His white shirt was covered with red lipstick stains.

He'd had a wild night in the hotel room with Rosa, his secretary and one of his numerous side chicks. Compared to the other girls, Rosa was different. They'd been together for two years, and all his employees and some of his business partners knew about their affair.

But recently, Rosa had become too greedy and jealous. She wanted a wedding ring. She wanted to be his lawfully wedded wife. God knew he'd never elevate his mistress to that status; she wasn't worth it. She was only worth satisfying his cock.

He smiled to himself as he remembered how wild Rosa had been in bed last night—they'd had sex all night. And this morning, Rosa had started with her nagging for marriage. Victor shook his head, and the ache worsened. Maybe he shouldn't have drunk so much, but Rosa had been throwing a fit. He replayed the morning's events in his mind.

"Just divorce that ugly bitch already," Rosa shouted. "You don't love her anymore, right? You don't even like her! You can't even stand to look at her for more than ten seconds! You're still with her because of your daughter, right? I can take care of your daughter if that's what's still holding you back from divorcing your wife."

Victor scowled. He knew he would never divorce his wife, so whenever Rosa brought it up, he brushed it off or shut her down.

"She's still a good wife, and she hasn’t wronged me in any way," Victor replied. "She just changed and became fat after giving birth to our daughter, and the public sees me as a devoted husband. A divorce would be terrible for my image right now."

It was ironic, but he always defended Gloria whenever Rosa brought up the topic of divorcing his wife, and Rosa could not understand why.

Rosa scowled. "It would also be bad press if I leaked our affair to the tabloids, or what do you think?"

Victor shot her a menacing glare, and Rosa quickly added, "Oh, come on. You'd have me as your new wife—that's a huge upgrade! And for the chores, you can just hire help! I’m too pretty to stay at home and do house chores."

She rolled her eyes and poked his chest. "I've been with you for two years. Don't be so indecisive! Don't tell me you still have feelings for that ugly wife of yours?"

Victor stayed silent, as if her words didn't deserve a response. Rosa stamped her foot on the floor, but he ignored her.

"I'm warning you," she hissed. "I won't put up with this forever. I want us to get married! I want a big diamond wedding ring, and make sure it's impressive!"

Victor didn't even glance back at her as he lit a cigarette.

Rosa tied her hair into a ponytail, snatched her bags, and stormed out of the hotel room, angrily slamming the door. Victor winced. His head pounded, but he poured another shot of gin as he gazed at the city below. "What do women truly want?" he asked himself.

He didn't want to go home and face Gloria—heck, he couldn’t even stand her presence—but he owed it to his daughter to check in. It was his duty as a father, and he had to fulfill it.

Victor pulled into the garage. He was drunk to stupor, but right now, he just wanted to see his precious daughter, Annabel.

A pang of guilt hit him for missing her birthday. He'd been too wrapped up with Rosa to think of anything else last night.

He entered the living room and scanned for Annabel.

But only his wife, Gloria, sat on the couch, her face a blend of fury and disappointment, with a wine glass in her hand, which surprised him—since when did Gloria start taking alcohol?

"Finally, you decided to come back home," Gloria greeted, her voice icy. "Do you know what time it is? I'm surprised you made it back. I thought you'd forgotten us entirely."

Victor clutched his head as her voice aggravated his hangover. He was not in the mood to make small talk with her.

He approached her. "Where's Annabel? Call her here. I want to take her out and spend time with my baby girl."

"Oh, you remember you have a daughter? Well, she’s at my mom's right now," Gloria replied. "She didn't get the birthday she deserved, so I let her celebrate with my sister and cousins."

Victor frowned. "Why did you take her there? We always celebrate Annabel’s birthday together. I just missed one day, and you already sent her to your sister’s house! Are you trying to make me look like a bad father in front of my daughter?"

"One day?!" Gloria said angrily, glaring at him. "Victor Anderson, do you realize you've been gone for six months? You only came back home once in the last six months, and you came back to pick up a few of your clothes, not to see Annabel! If you want to spend your time with that secretary, just leave!"

"Oh, shut up, Gloria. I don't have time for this crap! So what if I fuck my secretary? That doesn't mean I'm not worn out from work. You should be grateful that bitch is taking care of your husband. Arguing with you just drains me more!" Victor snapped. He was already irritated. He had come home to see his daughter, not to hear Gloria’s endless complaints.

"Worn out from work?" Gloria bit her lip. Her fists were clenched; she was tempted to strike him. But she had a bigger plan. After a sleepless night and tears, she was done holding things together.

The family she had fought so hard to preserve had shattered when she'd signed those papers.

In the past six months, she would lie awake every night, hoping that Victor would come back home. She would rush to the window at every car sound, hoping it was him.

But it never was. He had been with his secretary all the while, neglecting his real family.

Gloria snatched the divorce papers from the table and thrust them at Victor’s chest.

He staggered back, bewildered. Squinting through his haze, he struggled to read the fine print.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded.

"Let this fix it," Gloria said. "It's our divorce paperwork. I've signed my part. You just need to do yours. You can call your lawyer to over the agreement since you're clearly hungover? And I want to have full custody of Annabel.