Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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I’d been silent for two weeks, and Victor wasn’t pleased.
Earlier, unable to reach me, he’d assumed I’d stormed off in anger after Deborah snatched my position.
Out of options, he texted: “Since when did you become so childish? My decisions are final. However furious you are, you’ll accept Deborah as VP!”
Reading his message, I scoffed and blocked his number.
By the third week, noticing his foul mood, Deborah suggested a Maldives trip. He snapped his agreement. Before de- parture, she bombarded me with selfies captioned: “We suit each other better, don’t you think?”
My opinion mattered little. I blocked her too.
Years of marriage taught me Victor’s every expression. One glance at those photos revealed his impatience during her staged moments.
A mutual friend traveling with them reported Victor boarded the plane grim-faced. Throughout the flight, he ignored Deborah’s chatter, obsessively checking every platform linked to me-only to find himself deleted or blocked every- where.
Meanwhile, a passerby filmed Keith helping me build a snowman outside the hospital, posting it online.
Stranded without contact, Victor found everything dull. Slumped listlessly in his chair, he scrolled-then froze at a vi-
ral video.
Though starting with just a back view, he sat bolt upright.
The clip was brief, yet he replayed it relentlessly for half an hour.
Suddenly, he laughed aloud.
But it wasn’t joy-it was laughter laced with burning jealousy.
He immediately ordered his assistant to book a return flight, abandoning Deborah across the ocean.
Victor’s grandma finally passed, and I stayed with him through the toughest days.
He kept clutching my hand tightly the whole way.
“Will you leave me like Grandma did? Disappear from my life?”
“No.”
I answered firmly.
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I rested my head against his shoulder.
“Jessica!”
That familiar voice came from behind-Victor.
He slammed the car door shut, chest heaving rapidly.
I turned to him expressionlessly, but never let go of the hand in mine.
His gaze locked onto Keith and my intertwined fingers. Face pale, he forced a smile. “Honey, time to go home!”
He reached out, standing frozen, waiting.
He expected me to run to him like countless times before, to grab his hand tight.
But not this time.
I looked away, ready to turn.
“Honey!”
He called out desperately again.
Taking a few steps forward, he pleaded, “I’m done playing. I want to go home. Let’s go home, okay?”
How rare-the untouchable Victor Ramirez actually begging me to take him back.
“Home? Do we even have one left?”
My icy tone shattered his hope completely.
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Victor staggered as if struck by lightning, trembling uncontrollably. Seeing me leave, he grabbed me wildly from be- hind, then swung his fist toward Keith.
I caught his wrist instantly!
“Are you done with this craziness!”
I shoved him off, but he clung like a persistent leech.
“Honey, we have a home! If you hate that place, I’ll buy another-anywhere you want! Just us two! No more parties, no more late nights, I swear it’s true!”
A cold laugh escaped me. “But Victor, I don’t love you anymore.”
“Impossible! You can’t stop loving me!”
“Not love me? Who then? Him?” He pointed accusingly at Keith.
Keith stepped in front, shielding me completely.
“Mr. Ramirez, love can’t be forced. How many times have you hurt her in its name? You never considered her feel-
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Chapter 8
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ings!”
“Shut your mouth! Who the hell are you to lecture me? Remember-without me, you’d never have gotten into my wife’s bed!”
I pulled Keith behind me, staring at Victor with disgust. “You’re right. I should thank you. Without you, I’d never have met him.”
“Victor, we’re over. You signed the divorce papers. Don’t believe me? Ask your 44th fling-she’ll confirm it.”
When Victor saw those signed divorce papers, rage exploded. He remembered exactly when he’d signed them.
He charged to my apartment building, screaming hoarsely, “I’ll never agree to divorce! Jessica, you’re mine! I won’t let you love another man!”
Ignoring his fury, I had security drag him
away.
From the start, I knew Victor wouldn’t let go easily.
Otherwise, I wouldn’t have endured such pain all these years.
I handed all the prepared documents to my lawyer, authorizing him to handle my divorce case.
Victor had cheated forty-four times during our marriage, and every woman in those photos believed she’d be his one and only.
When served the lawsuit, Victor called me using my former assistant’s phone. “Honey,” he pleaded, “I’ve fired Debo- rah. The VP position is still yours. Please come back. Let’s not divorce, and make this work.”
I refused coldly.
The next second, his voice turned vicious. “Jessica, everything you have comes from my family. Without Fortune, where would you be today? Where could you have landed a vice president position? Didn’t I just have a few affairs during our marriage? Ask yourself honestly, among all of them, who’s ever been like you?”
By the end, he was choking back sobs. “I was wrong, I truly know it now. Let’s go home, please? I’m begging you, don’t abandon me.”
Not a shred of attachment remained. Those beautiful memories had faded like fireworks. “Victor,” I said quietly, “you’re wrong. Fortune never made me.”
He never knew the truth-how Fortune nearly collapsed multiple times due to his father’s mistakes, how we’d all shouldered immense pressure to save it. During those days, I attended endless business dinners, often drinking until I vomited blood.It was only when he, completely unaware, shed tears out of concern for me that I became resolute in my decision to uphold and protect this world for him.
I simply couldn’t watch our life’s work be destroyed by Deborah, who understood nothing.
Truthfully, I never cared about being VP.
Not when Fortune had repeatedly offered me far more prestigious positions.
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“We can’t go back.”
I’d already accepted Fortune’s offer. Soon, I’d leave this city with Keith.
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