Divorced: The Hidden King Rises

Ch.2 - He Is Petty

The air in the room seemed to vanish, leaving behind a sudden, suffocating vacuum.

Elise's hand froze mid-air, her fingers tightening around the stem of her wine glass.

The cold indifference in her eyes flickered for a moment, replaced by a flash of bewilderment that quickly twisted into a look of absurd mockery.

"Divorce?"

She let out a short, sharp huff—a dry laugh that barely left her nostrils, as if she had just heard a particularly tasteless joke.

She leaned back against the sofa.

"Ryan, did you smoke-damage your brain in that fire? Do you even know what you're saying?"

Ryan stood in the shadows.

His tattered firefighter's uniform looked jarringly out of place under the warm, amber glow of the chandelier.

"I made myself very clear, Elise."

His voice was flat, devoid of any rise or fall. It sounded like a dry well.

"I'll have a lawyer draft the agreement. If you have no objections, you can sign it whenever you're ready."

"I don't agree."

Elise stood up abruptly.

Her wine glass slammed onto the slate coffee table with a sharp clack.

She walked toward Ryan, her high heels clicking rhythmically on the floor. The scent of expensive perfume, mingled with the aroma of red wine, flooded his senses.

For a split second, Ryan wondered if her intense reaction was because she couldn't let go of their relationship.

Does she still love me?

But a second later, he realized how wrong he was.

"You think marriage is a game of house? You get in when you want and leave when you feel like it?"

She lowered her voice, her tone carrying the icy authority of someone used to being in charge.

"Do you have any idea what stage the company is at? We're going public! The final audit is next month!"

Ryan looked at the face inches away from his.

He used to think she was the most beautiful sight in the world. Now, she felt like a complete stranger.

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Nothing?"

Elise laughed out of sheer frustration. She poked her manicured finger hard against Ryan's firm chest.

Tuck. Tuck.

"Ms. Phoebe Harrison, Ryan. She is the most important investor in this round. She's a devout woman who values 'family harmony' above all else!"

"If a divorce scandal leaks at this critical juncture, have you calculated how much the company's valuation will shrink?"

Ryan looked down at that pale, slender finger. He let out a self-deprecating chuckle.

"So, to you, this marriage is nothing more than a bargaining chip to appease your investors?"

"What else would it be?"

Elise shot back with righteous indignation. Her eyes were full of disappointment.

"Ryan, I thought that even if you were mediocre, you at least understood the big picture."

"And yet, you're throwing a tantrum over such a trivial matter at a time like this. Do you have any idea how selfish and disgusting you look right now?"

Justin, who had been watching silently from the sidelines, finally found his opening.

He gripped the armrest of the sofa and struggled to stand up, his body swaying as if he were about to collapse. His face was perfectly, agonizingly pale.

"Elise, don't be like that... cough, cough..."

He clutched his chest and looked at Ryan with eyes full of guilt. His voice was as weak as a fading breeze.

"Ryan must have misunderstood us. It's all my fault... I was so scared at the hotel back then, I just... I grabbed Elise's hand instinctively..."

He stammered, struggling to walk toward them, but his legs gave out. He sank to his knees on the thick carpet.

"It's all my fault, Ryan. If you want to blame someone, blame me. Don't be angry with Elise. If I'm the reason your relationship breaks, I'd never forgive myself..."

Justin's eyes were rimmed with red.

It was a masterclass in manipulation—the picture of a victim sacrificing himself for the greater good.

"Justin! Get up!"

Elise's heart broke for him. She rushed to his side and helped him up, her movements as gentle as a mother's—a world away from how she had just poked Ryan's chest.

"This has nothing to do with you. You saved my life. It's human instinct to rely on the person next to you when you're scared. Unlike some people, who come back using their 'heroic deeds' as an excuse to interrogate me."

She turned back, and the look she gave Ryan had gone completely cold.

"Ryan, I'm in no mood to argue with you. Justin and I have IPO proposals to review tonight. You're just getting in the way standing there."

"Go stay in a hotel for the night. Get some air and clear your head."

Elise pulled a stack of cash from her designer bag and tossed it carelessly onto the hallway console.

"The money is right there. Don't give me any talk about 'pride.' With your pathetic salary, you can't afford a decent hotel anyway."

Ryan looked at the bills scattered on the cabinet.

Then he looked at Justin, who was leaning into Elise's embrace, shooting Ryan a subtle, mocking smirk.

Suddenly, Ryan felt that his three years of devotion had been thrown to the dogs.

"No need."

Ryan turned and walked into the bedroom without a single look back.

He pulled a dusty duffel bag from the bottom of the closet.

He didn't have much—just a few changes of clothes.

This house was massive.

But there was no longer any room for him in it.

Five minutes later, Ryan walked back out, bag in hand.

"What are you doing?" Elise's brows knit together as she saw the bag. "What's with the bag? Are you threatening me?"

Ryan didn't answer.

He walked straight to the entrance and pushed open the heavy front door.

The night breeze rushed in, sweeping away the suffocating scent of red wine.

"Elise, I'm not throwing a tantrum. And I'm not threatening you."

Ryan stood outside the threshold, his back to the brilliantly lit living room. His voice was as calm as a final curtain call.

"You bought this house. I'm giving it back to you. Your life... I'm giving that back to you, too."

Click.

The door was pulled shut gently.

The crisp sound of the lock engaging severed the connection between their two worlds.

In the living room, Elise stared at the closed door. For some reason, her heart skipped a beat.

"He... did he really leave?"

Justin crept closer, resting his hand on Elise's shoulder. His voice was soft and soothing.

"Elise, did I really do something wrong? Maybe I should go after him. He looked really angry."

"Go after him for what?"

Elise snorted. She sat back down on the sofa and poured herself another glass of wine with aggressive movements.

"Where could he possibly go? His broken-down little apartment was rented out a long time ago. He doesn't even have a few thousand dollars to his name."

She tilted her head back and downed a large gulp of wine, her eyes full of disdain and certainty.

"He's just a typical case of jealousy. He knows he's incompetent, so seeing you being so much better than him triggered his inferiority complex."

"Ignore him. Men like him... once he's spent a night shivering in the wind, he'll be back tomorrow morning with breakfast in his hand, begging for my forgiveness."

"He can't even survive without me. How could he ever actually go through with a divorce?"

Elise squeezed the wine glass tightly.

"So petty. Absolutely ridiculous."