Leonidas Lopez kissed her lips, his voice rough and gravelly. “All this fuss just for this, huh?”

Clementine Stephens froze. It felt like someone had just punched a clean hole right through her chest. The bitter tang flooded her mouth—she couldn’t tell if it was from his kiss or her own heart breaking. All those nights she’d once thought were sweet with giddy uncertainty, that cedar scent she’d been hopelessly hooked on? They’d just been laced with his biting sarcasm all along.

Clementine stared at the shifting splotches of light crawling across the ceiling and murmured, “Yeah. It’s all just a stupid game between men and women.”

“Turn off the lights. Cut to the chase.”

Turning off the lights had always been Clementine’s rule. Leonidas didn’t love her— the most obvious proof was right in his eyes. Even in their most intimate moments, when he was at his gentlest, those eyes never held a single spark of warmth. He’d always gone along with it before… or maybe he just hadn’t cared enough to argue. But tonight, he was different. The second “turn off the lights” left her mouth, he seemed to snap. He drove her collarbone hard into the mattress, growling, “Why? You need me blindfolded? Do my eyes ruin your little fantasies?”

Leonidas’ eyes were stormy, churning with unreadable emotions she couldn’t begin to parse. Maybe it was the embarrassment from the gala that had him this fired up. But he was right about one thing. If his eyes hadn’t always been so cold, so indifferent, she could’ve lied to herself and believed he still cared… just a little.

“Yeah,” Clementine challenged, lifting her chin and raising an eyebrow. A sharp, stabbing pain jolted through her core the second the words left her mouth.

Exhausted, Clementine fell into a deep sleep while Leonidas slipped out to the study for a cigarette. His assistant, Uriel Scott, called. “Mr. Lopez, the gala footage is deleted. It won’t leak. And as for Mrs. Lopez, the baby’s stabilized now.”

Leonidas only grunted, “Hmm,” voice completely flat.

Uriel hesitated for a beat before pressing on, “Mr. Lopez, she said she’s still in a lot of pain. Are you going to go see her?”

Leonidas’ tone turned ice-cold. “Am I a fucking painkiller? Will her pain just stop if I show up?”

Uriel stiffened. “Understood.”

When the call ended, Leonidas stubbed out his cigarette and headed back to the master bedroom. Clementine was sleeping peacefully, faint moonlight spilling through the window and gilding her face. She was curled up on her side, long lashes fanned out across her cheeks just like a beloved fairytale princess. By day, that princess was all sharp edges and rebellion. But asleep, she was so much softer, so much sweeter and docile. Leonidas stepped closer to the bed— maybe the night was just too soft, too enchanting. All the hard, bitter resentment in his chest melted away. For the first time ever, he actually wanted to climb into bed beside her.

And then he heard her mumble, “This time… I really don’t want you anymore, …”

Her voice thickened with quiet sorrow, and she sniffled softly in her sleep.

Leonidas’ gaze snapped cold. His leg froze mid-climb into the bed.

The next morning, Clementine woke to cold sheets beside her. Her lashes fluttered open, and a flash of bitter mockery flickered in her eyes. Just as she expected— he’d left again. The last tiny scrap of her fantasy was well and truly shattered. After getting washed up, she grabbed the divorce papers and headed downstairs.

Leonidas was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping his black coffee. Morning light flooded through the floor-to-ceiling windows, gilding his silhouette in that same dignified, cold elegance he always carried, like last night’s madness had never happened. Clementine pushed the papers across the table toward him, slow and steady. “Sign it.”

The black coffee swirled faintly in its porcelain cup. Leonidas’ expression darkened, something like resignation weighing on his features. “Wasn’t I enough for you last night?”

His cold, mocking words from the night before crashed through her mind all over again, chilling her to the bone. “Leonidas, I don’t want this anymore. I really don’t.”

He set his coffee cup down hard, the porcelain clattering loud against the table, his eyes glacial. “Clementine, even your nonsense has a limit.”

“A limit?” Clementine arched an eyebrow. “I don’t know what that word means. If you can’t stand me, just get the hell out already.”

The roar of an idling engine drifted in from the driveway. Leonidas bit down on his anger and stood up. “I’m going on a business trip. I’ll bring you back a gift.”

This was just one of his little “appeasement” tricks. Now, it didn’t move her at all. “Give it to your sister-in-law.”

Leonidas’ grip on his suitcase handle tightened so hard his knuckles went white.

Silence hung thick in the room. He walked out of the villa without a single word. Clementine felt completely drained, but she remembered he’d be gone for months, possibly. She grabbed the divorce agreement and hurried after him right away.

The spring wind out in the country was brutal. The second she pulled open the front door, the papers caught the gust, spinning apart and scattering across the drive, out of her reach.

“Ugh, perfect!” She huffed, cheeks puffing out in frustration at her own carelessness.

Leonidas watched from the car, his gaze darkening, before he pushed open his door and stepped out.

In the crisp, chilly spring air, Leonidas pulled her into a warm, cedar-scented embrace. “A farewell hug,” he said, voice softer than she’d ever heard it.

Clementine froze. The “farewell hug” was her rule— one she’d made for him years ago, demanding one every time he left for work or a trip. Once, it would’ve made her heart soar. Now? It didn’t even stir her. It just made her skin itch.

It felt like being dragged back to humiliate her old, desperate self all over again. Just as she started to squirm away, he let her go.

Clementine’s lips curled into a faint, mocking smirk. See? It was just routine for him. And she’d always been the idiot who got too emotional, like a puppy tasting honey for the first time.

She’d made up her mind: she’d never mourn the soft, doormat version of herself ever again. She watched him get in his car and drive away.

“Leonidas, goodbye!”

She yelled it after the retreating car, just as the Bentley’s windshield crumpled one of the scattered divorce pages against the glass. Inside the car, as Clementine’s silhouette shrank to a tiny black dot in the rearview mirror, Leonidas loosened his tie. For some reason he couldn’t name, something felt different about her this time. He just couldn’t put his finger on what, not yet.

Clementine Stephens pressed her shoulder to the second-floor bay window, staring out at the street below for what felt like hours. Long enough for the car to vanish completely around the bend.

After a while, she finally tore her gaze away, her eyes throbbing with that dull, familiar ache. She lifted a trembling finger to brush the faded wedding decals stuck to the glass. Leonidas Lopez had always favored a muted, cool color palette, and their wedding day had been completely stripped of any festive decor. The day after we said I do, I stood right here on this windowsill and put these up myself, she remembered.

He’d frowned so deep his brow looked like it would stay that way forever, but he’d still let the decorations stay up in our bedroom. That small concession had made her giddy for months. But after that day? He never spent a single night in that room again.

Every lonely night she spent alone, those bright red cutouts started to look less like wedding decor and more like two leering faces, taunting her. She should’ve known from the start: a man like him would never bend for anyone. He wouldn’t even give her the decency of a straight-out no.

The thin paper, faded and brittle from two years of sun, tore apart at the lightest touch. Just like their marriage—over before anyone even noticed it had cracked. Clementine set to wiping the room clean of anything that was hers after the wedding. Every little thing she’d added—those decals, their wedding portrait, all of it went straight into the trash.

Her clothes, her jewelry, every worn and unused thing she’d brought into the marriage—she packed them all up and sent them off to auction. They’d signed a prenup, and she wasn’t entitled to a single cent of Leonidas’s fortune. But the fine print said all her personal items—jewelry, clothes, all of that—was hers to keep. She wasn’t stupid enough to leave her own things behind for him to throw out.

As dusk crept in, Mckenna Lopez knocked softly on the bedroom door. She glanced at Clementine, still hovering by the window, and didn’t say a word. She just hefted the stacked, packed boxes and hauled them out to the car one by one.

On her third trip up, Clementine dragged the last suitcase behind her, her voice steady and light. “Let’s go.”

“You sure you didn’t leave anything behind?” Mckenna asked, taking the handle from her.

“Nothing that matters anymore.”

Still, Mckenna did one last sweep of the room. Her gaze caught on something peeking out from under the foot of the bed, a crumpled corner of paper, and she paused.

She pulled it out, and it unfolded into an obstetrics clinic medical report. Patient name: Clementine Stephens. Date… one month ago?

Clementine turned to find Mckenna frozen, shock written all over her face as she stared at the positive pregnancy result. She walked over, her voice soft as silk. “Six weeks. The doctor said the heartbeat was strong… but it’s never going to get to be born.”

Mckenna’s knuckles went white as she gripped the paper, but her face stayed cool and composed. “What does your uncle think?”

“He doesn’t know. And there’s no reason for him to find out now.”

Losing that baby felt like a cold knife twisting straight through her heart. And with it went every last sliver of hope she’d carried for Leonidas, every bit of her unrequited love. All gone.

“Don’t tell anyone. Especially not your uncle,” Clementine said, taking the report back, ready to tear it into tiny pieces. They were divorced now. What was the point of laying her raw, bleeding heart out for everyone to gawk at?

It would only get her pity, or worse—disdain. It would just leave her more humiliated than she already was.

But Mckenna stopped her before she could rip it. “There’s a paper shredder down in the car. We’ll destroy it properly, no loose bits.”

Just then, Clementine’s phone rang, and she handed it over to Mckenna to answer. Once the door clicked shut behind Clementine, Mckenna slowly smoothed the crumpled report flat, and walked over to the nightstand.

The cold glint off her glasses caught on the edge of a document left out on top: the signed divorce agreement. She bent down, ready to tuck the medical report right on top of it.

But after a long minute of thought, she turned, and walked back to tuck it right where she’d found it, under the foot of the bed.

---

Clementine moved into a small new apartment, and spent one long day unpacking and getting settled. As the sunset painted her silhouette in warm amber, she stood gazing out at the city skyline, her chest light for the first time in years, brimming with anticipation for what came next.

Her phone buzzed on the wooden desk, which was cluttered with half-assembled airplane models. She glanced down—it was a message from Mckenna on WhatsApp.

“The dinner party video got leaked!”

Clementine opened Twitter casually. #LeonidasLopezFamilyScandal was already blazing at the top of the trending page, stamped with that bold red “BREAKING” banner.

The caption screamed about a scandalous affair, all the dirty Lopez family laundry aired out for everyone to see, and the view count was skyrocketing by the second.

Calls from her father and Benjamin Lopez poured in one after another, both demanding she get to the Lopez estate immediately.

She hung up on the last one, brushed her thumb over the screen, and a cold, sharp smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Mckenna had warned her to ignore all calls from the Lopezes, but she wasn’t going to listen.

The flames were already licking the roof. To not throw a whole bucket of gasoline on them would be a total waste of all this attention…

Clementine Stephens stepped into the living room of the Lopez family mansion, squinting against the blinding glow of the crystal chandelier. Her father, hunched and tight with tension, was already bowing and scraping, apologizing nonstop to Benjamin Lopez, the head of the family. Samara Woods, the picture of meek grace, poured coffee with quiet, practiced efficiency.

To Clementine’s surprise, Mckenna Lopez was there too. The whole room hummed with loaded tension, and instead of his usual warm greeting, Mckenna only gave her one loaded, knowing look.

Clementine had barely sunk into her seat when her father’s voice boomed out: "Stephens Real Estate is on its last legs. The Lopez family taking you in is the biggest favor anyone’s ever done you. What the hell do you have to be unhappy about?"

"Please, Mr. Stephens, calm down," Samara cut in softly, setting a delicate porcelain coffee cup down on the table before smoothing a hand over her still-flat belly. "This whole mess is my fault. But sister-in-law, after your brother passed, I’m here carrying his Lopez baby with no one to turn to. Leonidas only treated me kindly out of respect for his late brother. I hope you can understand. If I’ve caused any misunderstanding or trouble, I’ll tell him to keep his distance from me, I swear!"

Her soft voice was thick with grief for the dead and the lonely burden she carried now—enough to tug at anyone’s heartstrings.

Benjamin Lopez snorted angrily. "Why are you even wasting breath explaining yourself to her? She’s just a jealous brat throwing a fit."

Clementine’s brow furrowed. Playing soft against hostility, huh? Hiding behind the victim card to get what she wanted? Next to Samara’s polished, innocent act, Clementine looked irrational, aggressive—like the actual troublemaker. Bullying a pregnant woman? How unforgivable. She’d underestimated this seemingly gentle sister-in-law; with just a few lines, Samara had neatly boxed her into a corner.

Between Samara’s doe-eyed compliance and her father’s growing rage, he ended up shouting right in her face: "You are going to issue a public apology. If you so much as scratch the Lopez family name, you’ll regret the day you were born!"

Clementine scoffed. "Scared of tarnishing the Lopez reputation, or scared you won’t get to squeeze the last few pennies out of them for yourself?"

"You..." Her father shot to his feet, stepping toward her with a hand raised to strike.

But Clementine didn’t so much as flinch. She held her head high, defiant to the bone.

When she was seven, her mother died after a years-long battle with illness. That very same night, her father dragged his new wife and their five-year-old daughter through the front door. Whenever her stepmother punished her, her father always conveniently vanished.

Now this man was shamelessly using her to line his own pockets. If she hadn’t been stupidly head over heels for Leonidas back then, how would he ever have weaseled his way into leeching off the Lopez family in the first place?

But the blow she braced for never came. The raised hand was caught mid-air by another set of long, slender fingers.

Mckenna’s jaw was set, his expression sharp. "Mr. Stephens. If my uncle finds out you laid a hand on his wife, do you think he’ll cut off Stephens Construction’s supply chain first, or freeze your funding?"

Every word Mckenna spoke hit Stephens Industries right where it hurt, and her father’s face drained of all color, turning ashen.

He didn’t think Leonidas would act this recklessly just for Clementine, but her title as Mrs. Lopez still carried weight. Hitting her would absolutely drag the Lopez name through the mud.

For Clementine, Mckenna’s intervention was just a bitter reminder of how naive she’d once been. Caring? What a damn joke.

But since he’d stepped in, she couldn’t very well contradict him. She pinned her father with a cold glare. "Count yourself lucky you didn’t swing. If you had, we’d all be eating the consequences of that."

Frustration boiled over, and she’d completely lost patience for these people’s games.

Before her father could snap back, Benjamin Lopez slammed his cane against the floor, his eyes blazing. "You little brat! Are you threatening me?"

---

Meanwhile, in the dim, stale air of an abandoned factory on the outskirts of Northport, Leonidas Lopez crushed another finger of the man crumpled at his feet. Beads of blood clung to his eyelashes like red, glinting frost.

The man went limp in his own pool of blood, gasping out: "After Mr. Lopez died... the trail went cold... I swear I’m not lying to you..."

Leonidas lifted his foot off the man’s chest and waved a dismissive hand, signaling for them to drag the body out. The killer who’d murdered his brother was still hiding somewhere in Northport. Fearful of leaks, every operative had all their electronics confiscated, but the mastermind still hadn’t shown their face.

Uriel Scott stepped forward, holding out a freshly activated phone. "Mr. Lopez, there’s a situation developing back in the city. A party video leaked, and now rumors are spreading that you and Mrs. Lopez are getting divorced..."

Leonidas was wiping blood off his forehead with a heated towel, and his grip tightened the second the words left Uriel’s mouth. The cold blue glow of the phone screen reflected off his sharp jawline, carving it into something even more merciless than usual...

---

Back in the Lopez mansion living room.

"It’s all a misunderstanding, in-law! This girl’s just reckless, she’s lost her mind. Let me take her home and discipline her properly..." Her father’s forehead glistened with cold sweat.

"You’re overreacting. I still have the decency to respect my elders," Clementine replied coolly. "You’re right, I have caused trouble for the Lopez family. That part is my fault."

Benjamin and Samara both eyed her suspiciously, thrown off by her sudden willingness to comply. Her father, for his part, breathed a shaky sigh of relief.

But then Clementine’s eyes slitted slyly, and she spoke slow, every word deliberate, a sharp little curl tugging at her lips: "I’ll announce our divorce publicly. That’ll kill the rumors and fix the Lopez family’s honor right up."

"Leonidas and my dear sister can be together out in the open, no more hiding."

"And I’ll take the fall for losing my husband. Perfect, isn’t it?"

Turning retreat into advance? She could play that game just as well as anyone.

Bring it all out into the open. Let the storm hit harder than ever.

Mckenna couldn’t hold back a low chuckle. "That’s quite... an elegant solution."

"Sister-in-law, Leonidas and I only care for each other as family. You really don’t have to go this far," Samara sighed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her voice thick with pathetic sorrow.

Clementine wasn’t blind, and she wasn’t stupid enough to buy that it was just familial affection.

Not willing to waste another breath on these toxic leeches, she pulled her phone out of her bag and opened Twitter.

"Sister-in-law, if you really want to leave Leonidas, that’s your choice, but he cares more about his reputation than anything. He’d never want his marriage dragged through the public eye," Samara pressed, pretending she was just warning Clementine not to anger her husband.

But Clementine didn’t even look up. Her fingers flew across the screen, fast and steady.

Did they really think she was still scared? Once, her love for him and her desperate desire to keep the Lopez family happy had made her put him first, above everything else.

But now? She didn’t want Leonidas anymore. Why the hell would she care what happened to his precious reputation?

Suddenly, Benjamin was seized by a rough coughing fit, clutching at his chest.

Mckenna patted his back gently, the picture of concerned grandson. "Easy, grandpa. Your blood pressure can’t handle this stress."

"Stop her!" Benjamin’s shaky, frail hand clamped down on his grandson’s sleeve, his sharp eyes locked dead on Clementine’s phone screen.

Mckenna’s eyes glinted behind his glasses. "Grandpa, if uncle and aunt really can’t make this work, divorce might be for the best. A forced marriage never makes anyone happy. Better to split than stay miserable."

"Now is not the time... cough... for a divorce," Benjamin gasped.

He never cared much for Clementine anyway—he’d much rather Leonidas take care of Samara. But a divorce right now would only confirm the scandal was true.

Samara would be publicly shamed, and the Lopez family would take the hit.

Her father lunged toward Clementine too.

A divorce would ruin the entire Stephens family!

But Clementine dodged him easily, nimble on her feet.

The cold glow of the phone screen reflected off her determined, unyielding eyes.

"Let true love be fulfilled. We part ways, never to meet again."

Her finger hovered over the send button, and she savored the sharp, sweet burst of satisfaction for just one second.

Right as she was about to hit post and send the announcement live, a black leather glove flew through the air, cracking against her phone with a sharp snap.

"Which blind son of a bitch dares—"

The word died in her throat the second her eyes locked with Leonidas’s icy, furious gaze.