Chapter five: Divorce 2

A silver-haired man in a dark suit stepped into the room.

Henry froze mid-way. The bank manager shot to his feet.

They all knew that face. Judge Warren. The most respected retired judge in the city.

Before leaving home, I had made one final call.

Uncle Warren had answered immediately. I told him everything and he promised to be at the bank. Although he wasn’t my uncle by blood, he has been there for me since my grandmother passed.

“Kira, darling, Forgive my lateness. Traffic was inexcusable.” He said to me.

And then, in front of everyone, he took my hand, bowed his head, and pressed his lips to my knuckles.

“Your grandmother would be proud of you,” he murmured, low enough that only I could hear.

“Thank you, Uncle Warren,” I said. “I’m glad you came.”

When I looked up, Henry’s face had turned grey.

“Kira, how do you know him?”

I did not answer.

“Let’s proceed,” Warren said briskly, turning to the others as though they were an inconvenience.

His assistant placed a neatly arranged set of documents on the table.

Henry stared at them. “What is this?”

“The divorce papers. It outlines the terms you’ve both been presented with, including the conditions attached to Clause Nine. Your signatures will end your marriage,“ Warren said.

Henry chuckled nervously.

He turned to me.

“Wait. Kira, wait. Let’s talk. Baby please . Just the two of us in private, okay? We can fix this. I know I’ve been—”

I stepped back before Henry’s fingers could touch me.

“Talk?” I asked.

“Please.”

“You’ve said everything you needed to say, Henry.”

He went still.

His eyes found mine, and for the first time, he looked at me as though he didn’t recognize me anymore.

“Kira! You can’t do this! If you go through with this divorce, we’ll be homeless! Do you understand me? Homeless! That house is all we have! How can you be so heartless? I’m your mother-in-law! I raised you like my own daughter!” Victoria shrieked.

“That is none of my concern.”

She gasped.

“And Tommy? You’re just going to abandon him? Even if you aren’t his mother, you raised him for eight years! Where is your heart? He’s a child! You have a responsibility!”

I looked at all three of them, standing there, shaking with rage and greed.

I picked up the pen and signed the settlement in a single, clean stroke.

Then I slid the pen across the table to Henry.

“Sign.”

“I won’t.” He swayed, his mouth twisting.

“I’ll fight this. I’ll drag you through every court in the country.”

“Here are your options, Henry. Sign the divorce papers, or let the evidence I’ve gathered speak for itself in court.” I kept my voice calm.

“What bloody evidence, Kira?”

“Falsified invoices. Tax evasion. Money laundering.” I tilted my head. “I’ve kept copies of the records. The police can decide what to do with them, if I hand them over.”

Warren folded his arms.

“How did you find out?” Henry stammered.

I kept my expression neutral.

In my previous life, I’d believed Henry to be a respectable businessman. Over the past few days, I revisited details I’d once ignored. And I found extremely disturbing things about him.

I had spent nights sharing my bed with a stranger I once believed I knew. Whatever affection I had left for him died with that realization.

“You would be wise to take this seriously, Mr. Zade.” Uncle Warren said to him.

Henry stared at me. His chest heaved.

I watched his face darken. Then, with a trembling hand, Henry picked up the pen and signed.

Ding!

[MISSION 1 COMPLETE.]

[REWARD: INFINITE STORAGE SYSTEM ACTIVATED.]

[ETHEREAL STORAGE SPACE NOW ACCESSIBLE.]

The light flashed before my eyes.

I was still getting used to that.

“It’s been a pleasure,” I said, and walked out.

I didn’t look back.

The elevator doors slid shut behind me, closing off Victoria’s shrieks.

By the time I reached the lobby, my heart had begun to slow, and the first real breath in hours filled my lungs.

Forty-three days left now before the apocalypse.

I had no time to waste.

I pulled out my phone, scrolled to the contact I’d saved months ago: a private supplier who dealt in bulk: Rice. Flour. Canned goods. Cooking oil. Things like that.

I pressed the call button and hurried toward the exit, head down, with the phone against my ear.

But I walked straight into someone.

It felt like hitting a wall.

A warm, solid, impossibly tall wall that smelled faintly of cedar and rain.

My phone flew out of my hand as strong fingers closed around my elbow, steadying me before I could fall.

“Careful.”

The voice was low and amused.

I looked up.

He was tall, dark-haired and dressed in a black coat. He had Gray eyes that studied me like I was a puzzle he’d just decided to solve.

He bent, retrieved my phone from the marble floor, and glanced at the glowing screen before handing it back.

One dark eyebrow lifted.

“Rice, flour, and canned goods,” he said mildly.

“Planning for a war, Kira?”

My breath caught.

I had never told him my name.