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05|Don't make a scene

Author: Nyssa Kim
last update Last Updated: 2025-06-08 00:01:10

Celeste pov.

I didn’t know what was more shocking, hearing Emma say I’d signed a prenuptial agreement without knowing, or the fact that if I divorced Ethan now, I wouldn’t receive anything. That I wouldn’t make him pay for all the pain he’d caused me over the past three years.

One second passed. I counted, hoping she’d laugh and admit it was some cruel joke. But another second slipped by, and she said nothing. Instead, she waited for me to speak, to explain why I had signed the agreement but what could I tell her when I had no idea it even existed?

“Why aren’t you saying anything, Celeste? Don’t you understand what this means? What you signed says you won’t get a single thing from the marriage, even if that bastard cheats on you. You’ll be walking away with nothing! I don’t know why you trusted Ethan enough to let him do something like this. God, I’m really mad— this is so unfair...”

Her voice trailed off, drowned out by the pounding of my heart as my thoughts began to blur and cloud. Despite the suffocating weight pressing down on me, I reached for my phone with trembling hands and held it to my ear, shaking my head as I tried to speak, my voice breaking.

“No... I didn’t sign a prenuptial agreement, Emma. I didn’t even know one existed. I—I remember Ethan asking my family to convince me to sign one, but I told them I wouldn’t.”

I paused, my voice trembling. “Are you sure I signed it?” I hoped that she was wrong but the silence on the other end told me everything I needed to know.

I heard the rustling of papers, and after a brief moment, she finally spoke, her voice laced with confusion.

“If you didn’t sign it like you said, then why are your name and signature here? It was signed on the 28th… in the year 2022. A day before you married him.”

My eyes widened at her words, and a sharp gasp escaped me as the memory from that day hit me all at once.

“Wait, isn’t that the day we went to that club Liora told us to—”

Before she could finish her sentence, I ended the call and shot up from the bed, my breathing ragged as I scrambled to find my clothes, assuming they’d be scattered across the floor. But no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find them.

I cursed under my breath, and just as I was about to scream in frustration, my gaze flicked to the bed… and there they were.

Neatly folded.

My dress.

My underwear.

My brows furrowed in confusion, and for a brief moment, the face of that handsome man flashed through my mind—those peerless, emotionless green eyes staring right at me.

But I quickly shook my head. This wasn’t the time to get distracted. I needed to find out if what I was thinking was true.

Exhaling sharply, I moved toward my clothes, slipped them on, grabbed my bag from the bed, and rushed out of the hotel room.

As I ran through the lobby, my heels clicking against the floor with each step, I fought the urge to completely break down and cry. The thought in my head grew more convincing with every passing second.

The night before my wedding, before I made the worst decision of my life and married that cruel bastard, Liora had suggested we have a bachelorette party. She said we should celebrate my last night of freedom.

Even though I wasn’t in the mood to go, especially since I was marrying a man I barely knew, Emma and I agreed, just to make her happy.

After we arrived at the club, the rest of the night became a blur. Emma left not long before we got there, saying she had to meet a client who suddenly wanted to see her. Liora stayed by my side the entire time, pushing drink after drink until I couldn’t keep myself together.

Though I couldn’t remember what happened that night, I knew I had signed something. Through my blurry haze, Liora had handed me a pen and made me sign my name and signature onto a document. When I asked her about it the next day, she denied it ever happened.

I believed her and tried to forget what happened, but after yesterday, something told me that what I signed was that prenuptial agreement.

“She wouldn’t do that to me,” I muttered under my breath as I flagged down a cab passing by.

When the cab stopped, I opened the door and slid inside, speaking to the driver. My hand reached for my phone as I unlocked it and dialed Liora’s number.

“To Elm Street,” I said, my voice steady but tense.

The driver gave a nod and started the engine, driving away. I bit my bottom lip, my eyes stinging as the phone rang. At the first ring, the call connected but before I could say a word, a loud voice cut through the line.

“Celeste, what the hell do you think you’re doing?! Where are you? And why haven’t you been answering your calls since last night?”

My eyes widened as I recognized the voice almost instantly, and the tears I’d been holding back burst forth like a broken dam.

“M-mother...” I stammered, feeling the driver’s gaze on me through the rearview mirror.

Just as I was about to speak and tell her what I’d just discovered about Liora, her cold voice cut through.

“You foolish child, why did you spend the night out and make everyone worry? Don’t you know whose wife you are? Liora has been crying since last night, worried sick about you. Come back immediately, we’re all at your house.”

My heart felt like it had been pierced by her words. My lips trembled as I struggled to hold back my sobs.

Even after knowing that Liora had been sleeping with my husband, even after knowing she was carrying his child, my family had done nothing. Instead, they sided with Ethan, agreeing that she would have the baby in secret while I went on pretending as if nothing had happened. Just like always, they wanted me to bury my pain and smile through the betrayal.

“You knew,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “You all knew that Ethan and Liora were together. Liora is pregnant with my husband’s child, Mother, and yet you're still worried about her instead of me, the one who was betrayed and hurt. How could you do this to me?” I cried out, tears blurring my vision.

But all I got in response was silence, followed by a nonchalant voice.

“This isn’t something we can discuss over the phone, so come home and don’t make a scene, Celeste,” she said, before hanging up.

I closed my eyes and buried my face in my hands, sobbing as the weight of it all came crashing down.

“M-Miss, are you okay?” I heard the driver’s voice and lifted my head to see his concerned expression through the rearview mirror.

It was ironic, really. Even a stranger seemed more worried than the woman who had given birth to me.

I let out a dry, bitter chuckle and gave a small nod.

“Please take me to Hillcrest Avenue instead.”

The driver looked at me in confusion for a brief moment, then nodded and turned the car around. As we drove, my trembling hands dialed another number. I brought the phone to my ear, wiping away the tears as it rang. When the call connected, I forced my voice to stay steady.

“Good morning, Jace. It’s been a while, but I have some information you’ll want to hear. The kind that would shake the world if you broadcast it. I want to expose my politician husband… and how he got his wife’s sister pregnant

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