Chapter 3

“What the hell is this?” My fingers tremble, my pulse slamming through my wrists as if my body is trying to warn me of a collapse.

Harry looks right at me with that infuriating brow arched, Viv leaning her head against his shoulder, and they both stare at me with all the warmth of a dead snake.

“I mean, I’m actually concerned now, babe…” she mutters with a mock pout. “Has she always been this slow to pick up on things?”

Harry nods with an exaggerated sigh, like this is all too tiresome for his mighty intellect. “I’m starting to think she’s just… stupid.”

The air gets sucked right out of my lungs as they smirk.

“What did you think would happen, Ivy?” he casually adjusts the cuffs of his wrinkled shirt. “I tell you I don’t love you, I love someone else. And what? We all go to couples therapy and hug it out?”

“But we had plans,” I snivel, gasping for breath. “Business plans. Family plans.” My hand drifts unconsciously to my belly.

Harry catches the movement and tilts his head. “Yeah, we did have plans,” he says slowly. “Nothing’s changed, except you’re not part of them anymore.” He stretches out his arm, and Viv glides toward him like a predator in designer heels, his hand snaking around her waist.

My eyes dart between them. “All this…” I look down at the divorce papers. “It’s because of her?”

They both smile. And like this is a romcom and I’m the underwritten supporting character who just got dumped for someone ‘more fun’, Harry steps away, striding over to a desk, and he grabs a pen, glances at his Rolex, and lets out an exaggerated sigh.

“As much as I’m enjoying this little meltdown,” he scoffs, “it’s almost 3:00 a.m. We need our beauty sleep. And you…” He strolls back to me and hands me the pen. “You need to sign those and leave.”

I stare at it, blinking in disbelief. “Leave?” I echo. “Why the hell am I the one leaving? This is my building.”

There is a long pause, followed by a shared look between them before Viv disappears into my office, her heels clicking like gunshots.

She returns seconds later with a stack of papers so thick it might as well be a lawsuit in hardcover. “About that…” she smiles sweetly, handing me the documents. “As of this moment, House of Valemont is no longer yours.”

“What?” My eyes dart to Harry, who is now finally buttoning his shirt with a huge smile across his face.

My hands shaking, I snatch the stack from her, and immediately my eyes start skimming across the pages.

I see my signature stamped at the bottom of dozens of pages. Legal transfer documents, power of attorney clauses, board restructuring, and financial handovers.

“I don’t remember signing this,” I mutter to myself, stunned.

“But that’s your signature… isn’t it?” Viv shrugs.

Harry clenches his jaw and steps closer. “You signed everything in there, Ivy. You just didn’t read it. But hey — that’s on you.”

My knees buckle slightly, and I reach for the back of the chair, clinging to it like it might hold me together. “You can’t do this,” I gasp. “This company… this is my family legacy. My parents built it. You can’t just take it from me.”

“Tell that to your lawyer,” Harry sneers, his voice cold and detached. “Oh, wait. Viv is your lawyer.” They both laugh out loud.

“This can’t be legal.” I shake my head in disbelief.

“But it is,” Viv replies, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You were too busy giving speeches and playing queen to notice you were handing it all over.”

“I trusted you.” My voice comes out in shaky breaths.

“Well… that was dumb,” Harry says, pausing. “You are too naïve, Ivy, thinking of all the women in that event, the day we met, you were the one I chose to approach. I mean, look at you… If looking lifeless was a fashion choice, you’d be a trendsetter. But I can see today you made a little effort. Is it laundry day?” His voice drops.

“No…” I breathe. “You cannot speak to me like that. Especially not in front of her.”

“Then get out of our fucking building Ivy, and if you don’t, I’ll call security,” Viv threatens, crossing her arms.

I shake my head, still trying to wrap my head around what is happening. “You’re monsters.”

Harry grabs my arm. “Don’t touch me!” I scream, but it’s no use.

His grip tightens, and before I can react, he yanks me toward the hallway, dragging me across the glossy floor like I’m nothing. I claw at his wrist, crying, screaming, begging.

“You can’t do this! This is my company!” I yell, my voice breaking as the hallway blurs through the tears.

Viv waves from behind us, her smile wide and cruel. “Bye, Ivy.”

I’m thrown into the elevator, the divorce papers following me, fluttering to the floor like confetti at a funeral.

“Sign them,” Harry barks. “I don’t want my name attached to yours any longer than necessary.”

And with that, the doors close, and I slide down the wall, sobbing silently as the lift descends.

By the time I reach the lobby, my body is shaking, and my vision is blurry. I stumble forward, dazed, empty, not even sure if I’m awake anymore.

The glass doors part, and I step out onto the street, and behind me, at the very top floor, two silhouettes stand against the light, watching. Gloating.

“Ma’am?” Pete’s voice cuts through the haze, gentle but urgent. “Are you okay?”

I try to respond, but my knees give way. Pete catches me just before I hit the ground.

“Get me out of here,” I croak, barely able to speak.

He nods and guides me to the car, his hands steady, his presence grounding.

He opens the door, and I slide in, hugging my arms to my chest as the tremors take over.

“Where to, ma’am? Home?”

Home? I let out a dry, broken laugh. “What home?” I whisper to myself. Just drive. Anywhere. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Pete nods, and the car pulls away from the curb, the city lights bleeding into streaks as we disappear into the night.

I stare at the divorce papers in my lap like they might suddenly burst into flames. Hoping, praying that they do but they don’t. They just… sit there. Cold. Final, in twelve-point Times New Roman.

I swallow back a sob and look out the window again, desperate for distraction. But then I see it — a billboard of House of Valemont. Fall Collection. Timeless Power. My face is on it.

God. I blink hard, willing myself not to cry again, but the ache returns like a tidal wave.

“How could you be this stupid, Ivy?” I glance down at my reflection in the window. The perfectly curled hair, the diamond choker still clinging to my throat like a noose, and the dried mascara under my eyes.

“Were you always this naïve?” I hiss at myself. “Were you really so hellbent on being the perfect couple that you didn’t realize he was playing you?” The words bounce around the car, but they don’t offer comfort; they only cut deeper.

A surge of rage shoots through me — and without thinking, I slap my forehead.

“Stupid. Stupid!” I whisper-shout to myself. I do it again, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to sting. “You handed them everything. Everything.”

“Ma’am?” Pete’s voice comes gently from the front seat. “Are you okay back there?”

“Leave me alone, Pete! Just drive!” I scream, louder than I mean to.

Silence follows, and he doesn’t say another word. He just tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

I didn’t mean to yell at him, but I don’t have the energy to apologize right now. Not when I’m sitting here, bleeding, and humiliated. I glance down at my toe.

There is a dark red clot drying around the edges, a dull ache pulsing from the wound. It’s not deep, but it’s enough to make me feel pathetic. Like every part of me is broken, down to the damn toe.

I lean forward and finally yank off my heels. My new Louboutins — now ruined. One has blood on the insole, the other’s scuffed from when Harry dragged me across the marble.

I toss them aside with a bitter laugh. “Congratulations, Ivy,” I mutter to myself. “You just lost your husband, your company, your legacy, and your new shoes.”