Chapter 4: The Divorce Trap

Chloe froze in the entryway of the foyer, her soft, doe-like eyes widening in dramatic, feigned shock as she took in the chaotic scene unfolding before her. She saw Marcus stumbling awkwardly away from the mahogany coffee table with a bright crimson handprint stamped viciously across his swollen cheek, and Scarlett standing tall in the center of the room, radiating an untouchable, icy majesty that seemed to fill every inch of the space.

"Marcus! Your face—what on earth happened?!" Chloe gasped, rushing forward with theatrical alarm, her voice trembling like a frightened maiden's. She hovered frantically around him like a protective angel, placing her delicate hands gently on his shoulders while casting a look of profound, wounded betrayal toward Scarlett. "Scarlett, how could you? How could you ever raise your hand against Marcus? He works so hard every single day for this family, providing everything you could ever ask for, and you—you're just so bitter, mean, and ungrateful!"

Marcus grabbed Chloe’s slender arm tightly, his chest heaving violently as he glared at Scarlett with raw, venomous hatred. His breathing was ragged, his male pride deeply wounded by the brutal strike he had just taken. "She's completely insane, Chloe! The woman has completely lost her mind! I've tolerated her neurotic outbursts, her passive-aggressive behavior, and her endless insecurities for years, but this physical attack crosses every single line of decency!"

In her past life, this was the exact moment Scarlett would have felt a painful, sickening pang of jealousy, self-doubt, or exploding anger seeing Chloe cling so affectionately to her husband. She would have tried frantically to defend her honor, fallen straight into their deliberate emotional traps, and allowed them to paint her as the unstable, irrational villain of the household in front of everyone they knew in their social circle.

Now, looking at the two of them acting out their pathetic, predictable little charade, Scarlett felt only profound, bone-deep disgust. They were two parasitic, hollow souls bound together by greed, vanity, and double-dealing. They truly deserved each other in every possible way. And very soon, when the sky cracked open and the dead rose from the cold asphalt, they would share a front-row seat to the end of human civilization with absolutely nothing to protect them from the frozen, bloody horror outside.

"Are you finished with your little performance?" Scarlett asked coolly, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked down at them with absolute detachment.

Chloe bit her lower lip nervously, artificial tears welling up in her large eyes as she put on her most helpless, pathetic expression. "Scarlett, please... don't be like this. Marcus only wants what's best for all of us. If you're feeling overwhelmed and stressed out, maybe you should just step away for a bit and take a long vacation—"

"Save the fake tears and the crocodile performance, Chloe. They don't work on me anymore," Scarlett interrupted, her voice cutting through the thick, quiet air like a sharp razor blade.

Without breaking eye contact, Scarlett reached into her tailored jacket and pulled a crisp, white legal document from behind her back. She tossed it casually onto the glass coffee table, where it slid across the smooth surface and landed right in front of Marcus’s bruised, twitching face. "Sign these right now."

Marcus squinted down at the papers lying on the table, his brow furrowing in deep confusion as he read the bold, formal header printed across the top of the first page.

Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.

A slow, arrogant smirk spread across Marcus’s bruised face as the reality of the document set in. The initial shock and humiliation of the slap quickly faded into the background, replaced instantly by a massive surge of smug, triumphant satisfaction. For months, he had been trying to figure out a clean, quiet way to ditch Scarlett without losing too much face among his corporate peers or getting bogged down in messy, protracted asset divisions—especially since he wanted to publicly integrate Chloe into his life as his official partner and co-parent. He had always assumed Scarlett was far too weak, far too emotionally dependent on him and his family status to ever dream of walking away on her own.

Now, here she was, stupidly handing him a full divorce on a silver platter without him having to lift a single finger or pay expensive lawyer fees.

"You want a divorce?" Marcus laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that echoed off the high ceiling as he leaned back against the plush velvet sofa, eager to reassert his total dominance over the room. "You're actually divorcing me over a minor disagreement? Fine by me! You'll regret this deeply, Scarlett. Mark my words, you'll be crawling back to this very house, begging for my forgiveness on your knees within a single week!"

"Oh, I promise you, Marcus, the only one who will be begging on their knees is you," Scarlett replied evenly, her eyes flashing with dark, terrifying amusement. "As for our shared assets, since you're so eager to prove your financial dominance and independence, you can keep the heavy primary mortgage on this house, your expensive sports car debts, and all of our joint checking accounts. I want no part of your accumulated liabilities."

Marcus’s arrogant smirk widened into a triumphant, foolish grin. To his greedy, narrow mind, Scarlett was merely acting out of foolish, wounded pride—acting on emotional impulse and walking away from the bulk of their shared marital property while leaving him completely free to inherit the core estate and liquidate whatever liquid capital remained in the accounts. He reached into his coat pocket, grabbed a sleek black pen, and scrawled his signature violently across the dotted lines with aggressive, boastful satisfaction.

"Consider yourself officially divorced, Scarlett," Marcus spat with cold disdain, tossing the pen aside so hard it rattled against the glass. "Don't expect a single dime of alimony or financial help when you finally realize how completely helpless, broken, and weak you are out there in the real world without my protection."

"Keep the house, Marcus," Scarlett whispered softly, her voice smooth and completely devoid of any lingering regret as she turned on her heel and walked toward the grand front entrance of the mansion. "Enjoy every single square inch of it while you still can. Because in exactly sixty days, none of it will matter anymore."