Chapter 3

The Stanley estate had never been this quiet before.

Not a single snide remark from Yanique. No disdainful glances from Chairman Stanley. Even my mother-in-law, who usually had a pitiful smile plastered on her face whenever I was being berated, had retreated into silence.

A full week had passed since I announced I wanted a divorce.

A full week of watching them tiptoe around me as if I were a ticking time bomb. A full week of silence.

They didn’t want to lose me—not yet. I was still valuable to them. My father’s influence in Prestige Global Enterprises was too great for them to risk cutting me loose. Without his backing, their grip on the business wouldn’t be as firm.

It was strange, almost eerie, how the house, once filled with veiled insults and cutting remarks, had turned into something… else.

The tension hadn’t disappeared—it had simply shifted. Instead of open disdain, there was cautious quiet. Instead of outright hostility, there was forced kindness.

Because they still needed me.

And Eric?

Eric had transformed overnight.

For the first time in our marriage, he was playing the part of the perfect husband. It was almost comical how easily he slipped into the role of a doting husband now that I had decided I wanted out. He’d never been this attentive before. Never this patient.

As if three years of neglect could be erased with a few well-timed gestures.

At breakfast, he pulled out my chair for me. He asked about my sleep. He commented on how lovely I looked, his voice smooth, calculated.

At dinner, he made conversation—actual conversation. Not just his usual passive comments but deliberate attempts to engage me. As if he actually cared.

And at night, he didn’t disappear into his study like before. No, now he sat beside me, talking in that low, warm voice that had once made me fall for him.

I used to crave this attention.

I used to dream of the day when my husband would look at me like this, talk to me like this.

And now that it was happening?

It meant nothing.

Because I knew it was all an act.

Because I knew what he had done.

I played my part well, though.

I smiled when appropriate. I responded when necessary. I let him believe that his efforts were working, that he was slowly easing me back into the life he thought I would never leave.

The irony was almost laughable.

For years, I had endured his coldness, his indifference. I had tried so hard to be the perfect wife, to be worthy of his love.

And yet, all I had ever needed to do to gain his attention—was stand up for myself.

It was that simple.

The thought was almost insulting.

“Would you like some tea?” Eric’s voice broke through my thoughts.

I glanced at him from across the dining table. His expression was careful—concerned, even. It was the same look he had given me a thousand times before, only back then, it had always been hollow.

I wasn’t sure if it was any different now.

I picked up my water glass instead, taking a slow sip before answering. “I’m fine.”

Eric hesitated, as if debating whether to say something more. Then, after a moment, he set down his fork and leaned forward slightly. It seemed like my nonchalance all week had finally gotten to him.

“I don’t understand why you’re acting this way, Sydney. Is this about the adoption?” His voice was gentle, measured, as if he were speaking to a child. “If you don’t want to adopt, that’s fine. I’m okay with not having a child. You don’t have to overreact like this.”

Overreact.

The word slithered into the air between us, settling heavily.

A month ago, a year ago, I would have flinched. I would have panicked, worried that I had somehow upset him, desperate to fix things.

Now?

Now I only felt the bitter taste of amusement. I smiled. Soft. Sweet. Deceptive.

“I see.” I set my glass down, meeting his gaze evenly. “So… if I had just said no from the beginning, would you have been this understanding?”

Eric blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Of course,” he said smoothly. “It was never about forcing you into something you didn’t want.”

Liar.

I gave a small, thoughtful nod, as if considering his words.

The truth was, I already knew.

He didn’t care about my feelings. He never had.

The only reason he was backtracking now was because he was afraid.

Not of losing me.

But of losing everything that came with me.

For a long time, I had thought my presence in this family was an inconvenience. That they barely tolerated me because I was useless to them. No one brought up the divorce word again, and so neither did I. It was a fun game, and I wished I had done it sooner. 

I had been wrong all along about myself. I wasn’t useless—I was a resource.

I was leverage.

They had always needed me—just not for the reasons I had once hoped.

I leaned back slightly in my chair, letting out a soft sigh. “I don’t want a war with your family, Eric.”

His eyes sharpened just a little.

“I’m just trying to understand everything,” I continued, keeping my tone light, almost hesitant. “It all happened so fast. You said you wanted to adopt, but we never really talked about it before.”

Eric nodded, as if reassured by my words. “I should have discussed it with you earlier.”

“Yes, you should have.” I offered him a small, almost apologetic smile. “But now that I’ve had time to think… I should at least meet the child first, shouldn’t I?”

His body stiffened.

It was subtle—barely noticeable—but I saw it.

“The child you want to adopt…” I let my words trail off, watching him carefully. “Which orphanage is he from?”

Silence.

For the first time in days, Eric didn’t have an immediate answer.

The mask faltered—just for a moment.

And I knew, without a single doubt, that I had just cornered him.