Chapter 2. A Slap for Three Silent Years

Grace looked at the man in front of her and repeated her words with a calm but firm tone, “Let’s get a divorce, William. So, do you like my birthday gift?”

William stayed silent. His face was blank, like a statue. “You wanna divorce me just because I didn’t celebrate my birthday with you?”

Grace tilted her chin up a bit. “Camila’s back, right?”

The second that name came out of her mouth, a mocking smirk curled on William’s lips. He stepped closer, erasing what little distance was between them. “You jealous of her?”

William wasn’t just the heir to the Donovan family. He was a living legend in the business world. Everything about him—his power, wealth, and reputation—screamed dominance. The way he moved, the way he looked at her, it all made Grace take a step back without even realizing it.

Her back hit the wall.

In an instant, the room felt like it was closing in on her. William had her pinned with one hand against the wall, blocking her only way out. His stare was sharp, and his lips curled into a wicked grin.

“All of San Francisco knows I was supposed to marry Camila. You’re the one who begged to replace her, to become Mrs. Donovan. You were fine with it back then, weren’t you? So why are you acting like you didn’t know how this would end?”

Grace’s face turned pale. Yeah… William really did want to marry Camila. If it hadn’t been for that accident that left her in a coma, Grace would’ve never had the chance. She still remembered the day William finally woke up. The moment he opened his eyes and looked at her, his expression was crystal clear: total rejection.

From then on, they slept in separate rooms. He never touched her. Because his heart belonged to Camila. Grace had always known that.

But still… she looked at the man she’d known since they were kids. That face—once full of warmth and light—was now cold and distant. The face she used to love with all her heart.

“You really don’t remember me, William?” she thought. She was stuck in the past, holding onto some ridiculous hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a memory of her buried somewhere in his mind. Just one sign that she meant something to him.

What a fool she’d been. Three years of loving him alone. Three years of silent suffering that slowly tore her apart.

“I’m done with this loveless marriage. I’m tired,” Grace said again.

William raised an eyebrow. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Loveless, huh?” Slowly, he reached up and cupped her chin. His fingertip brushed against her lips—gentle, but threatening.

The moment his thumb slid across her lips, a chill ran through her body. The touch felt too intimate, too familiar. Her heart pounded hard in her chest. She wanted to pull away, but there was nowhere to go.

William narrowed his eyes and stared at her more closely. Grace usually dressed plainly. Black or white dresses, oversized glasses that covered half her face. She always tried to blend into the background. But up close… her skin was soft, her big eyes sparkled like calm stars. Her face—if you really looked—was stunning.

And her lips… incredibly tempting.

The pressure from his thumb made the color drain from her lips before they turned pink again. William paused, like he’d just discovered something. His eyes darkened. “So this is how desperate you are, Grace? You want me to touch you that bad?”

The sound of a slap cracked through the room.

Grace didn’t hesitate. She slapped him so hard his head snapped to the side. The room went dead silent. Her fingers were still trembling, while the love she’d held onto for so long had finally died.

Her voice shook, but her words were steady. “You’ve always been obsessed with Camila. Fine. I’m giving her my spot. I don’t wanna be Mrs. Donovan anymore.”

A sharp glint flashed in William’s eyes. His face hardened instantly. No one had ever hit him like that. Especially not a woman.

Slowly, he straightened and looked at Grace with eyes like ice. “You’re the one who chose to marry me. No one forced you. And now you think you can just walk away because you want to?”

Grace let out a short laugh. But it was cold, laced with sarcasm. She looked him straight in the eyes. Her gaze wasn’t fragile anymore. “What do you think you are to me, William? A doll?”

William flinched. "What’s that supposed to mean?" His world, which he always kept under control, suddenly felt off balance.

Grace swallowed the ache in her chest. Her voice was soft, but every word cut deep. “You’re nothing but a toy I took from Camila. And now I’m bored. So I’m throwing you away.”

His eyes darkened. His breathing turned heavy. The tension in the room thickened like a storm about to explode.

“Fine, Grace. Let’s get a divorce!” His voice was low, but furious. “But don’t you ever come crawling back to me!”

Without waiting for a response, William stormed upstairs. A loud bang echoed as he slammed his office door shut, shaking the entire Donovan mansion.

Downstairs, Grace’s knees gave out. Every ounce of strength drained from her body.

She slid down to the floor, leaning against the wall, hugging herself like it could somehow protect her from the pain clawing at her heart.

“William... I’ll never love you again,” she whispered.

---

The next afternoon.

Sophie gently pushed open William’s office door and stepped inside cautiously. Her steps were slow, careful.

William sat behind his massive desk, buried in paperwork as always.

Everyone in San Francisco knew William Donovan worked like a machine. The man barely took breaks. But today, the look on his face was darker than usual.

“Sir,” Sophie called quietly.

He didn’t even glance at her. His face stayed cold, totally uninterested in anything around him.

Sophie walked closer and placed a cup of coffee on his desk, hesitant. “Um... Mrs. Grace made this for you.”

William’s hand froze mid-scribble. For a moment, time itself seemed to pause in the room.

His expression shifted just a little—not exactly softer, but like something tugged at his thoughts.

‘She’s trying to make up?’ he wondered.

As much as he hated to admit it, Grace had always been the perfect wife. She cooked just the way he liked. She handled every little detail of his life without ever complaining.

He picked up the cup and took a slow sip. It tasted exactly the same. Warm and familiar.

But that comfort vanished as quickly as it came. His face hardened again. He was still angry.

That slap last night? He wasn’t gonna let it go. A cup of coffee wasn’t gonna fix that.

“She realize she was wrong?” he asked flatly.

Sophie blinked in surprise, then hesitated before answering. “Sir... Mrs. Grace is gone.”

William’s head shot up, the movement sharp.

Sophie quickly handed him a document. “She left the house early this morning with a suitcase. Before she left, she asked me to give you this.”

He took the document with a frown. When he unfolded it and read the first page, his breath caught in his throat.

Divorce Papers.

The words hit him like a slap in the face. He froze. His eyes didn’t move.

‘She’s not trying to make up?’

‘She really wants to leave?’

Feeling a little guilty, Sophie added, “She also said to tell you to sign it after you finish the coffee.”

William’s face darkened instantly. With a harsh motion, he shoved the coffee cup away. It clattered against the desk with a loud bang.

“Get it out of here!” he snapped.

Sophie jumped and quickly grabbed the cup, hurrying out of the room without another word.

William stared at the divorce papers again, silent. His eyes were heavy, filled with something even he couldn’t explain.

‘She didn’t ask for anything... not a single cent... She really left with nothing?’

A bitter smile crept onto his lips.

‘Now she wants to act all independent? She really thinks she can live without money, without status, without anything? Who does she think she is?’

‘Three years ago, she did everything she could to get into the Donovan family. And now she just wants to leave like that?’

Then, his eyes fell on the handwritten note at the bottom of the form. The reason Grace wrote for the divorce.

Reason: Male dysfunction. Inability to fulfill marital duties.

William’s eyes widened. His face darkened instantly.

That damn woman. How dare she write that?

Fuming, William grabbed his phone and punched in Grace’s number with rough, angry fingers.

The call rang a few times. Then it connected.

On the other end, a soft, calm voice answered, completely unfazed.

“Hello?”