Victor's head throbbed as he stepped out of his car, staggering. His white shirt was covered with red lipstick stains.

He'd had a wild night in the hotel room with Rosa, his secretary and one of his numerous side chicks. Compared to the other girls, Rosa was different. They'd been together for two years, and all his employees and some of his business partners knew about their affair.

But recently, Rosa had become too greedy and jealous. She wanted a wedding ring. She wanted to be his lawfully wedded wife. God knew he'd never elevate his mistress to that status; she wasn't worth it. She was only worth satisfying his cock.

He smiled to himself as he remembered how wild Rosa had been in bed last night-they'd had sex all night. And this morning, Rosa had started with her nagging for marriage. Victor shook his head, and the ache worsened. Maybe he shouldn't have drunk so much, but Rosa had been throwing a fit. He replayed the morning's events in his mind.

"Just divorce that ugly bitch already," Rosa shouted. "You don't love her anymore, right? You don't even like her! You can't even stand to look at her for more than ten seconds! You're still with her because of your daughter, right? I can take care of your daughter if that's what's still holding you back from divorcing your wife."

Victor scowled. He knew he would never divorce his wife, so whenever Rosa brought it up, he brushed it off or shut her down.

"She's still a good wife, and she hasn't wronged me in any way," Victor replied. "She just changed and became fat after giving birth to our daughter, and the public sees me as a devoted husband. A divorce would be terrible for my image right now."

It was ironic, but he always defended Gloria whenever Rosa brought up the topic of divorcing his wife, and Rosa could not understand why.

Rosa scowled. "It would also be bad press if I leaked our affair to the tabloids, or what do you think?"

Victor shot her a menacing glare, and Rosa quickly added, "Oh, come on. You'd have me as your new wife-that's a huge upgrade! And for the chores, you can just hire help! I'm too pretty to stay at home and do house chores."

She rolled her eyes and poked his chest. "I've been with you for two years. Don't be so indecisive! Don't tell me you still have feelings for that ugly wife of yours?"

Victor stayed silent, as if her words didn't deserve a response. Rosa stamped her foot on the floor, but he ignored her.

"I'm warning you," she hissed. "I won't put up with this forever. I want us to get married! I want a big diamond wedding ring, and make sure it's impressive!"

Victor didn't even glance back at her as he lit a cigarette.

Rosa tied her hair into a ponytail, snatched her bags, and stormed out of the hotel room, angrily slamming the door. Victor winced. His head pounded, but he poured another shot of gin as he gazed at the city below. "What do women truly want?" he asked himself.

He didn't want to go home and face Gloria-heck, he couldn't even stand her presence-but he owed it to his daughter to check in. It was his duty as a father, and he had to fulfill it.

Victor pulled into the garage. He was drunk to stupor, but right now, he just wanted to see his precious daughter, Annabel.

A pang of guilt hit him for missing her birthday. He'd been too wrapped up with Rosa to think of anything else last night.

He entered the living room and scanned for Annabel.

But only his wife, Gloria, sat on the couch, her face a blend of fury and disappointment, with a wine glass in her hand, which surprised him-since when did Gloria start taking alcohol?

"Finally, you decided to come back home," Gloria greeted, her voice icy. "Do you know what time it is? I'm surprised you made it back. I thought you'd forgotten us entirely."

Victor clutched his head as her voice aggravated his hangover. He was not in the mood to make small talk with her.

He approached her. "Where's Annabel? Call her here. I want to take her out and spend time with my baby girl."

"Oh, you remember you have a daughter? Well, she's at my mom's right now," Gloria replied. "She didn't get the birthday she deserved, so I let her celebrate with my sister and cousins."

Victor frowned. "Why did you take her there? We always celebrate Annabel's birthday together. I just missed one day, and you already sent her to your sister's house! Are you trying to make me look like a bad father in front of my daughter?"

"One day?!" Gloria said angrily, glaring at him. "Victor Anderson, do you realize you've been gone for six months? You only came back home once in the last six months, and you came back to pick up a few of your clothes, not to see Annabel! If you want to spend your time with that secretary, just leave!"

"Oh, shut up, Gloria. I don't have time for this crap! So what if I fuck my secretary? That doesn't mean I'm not worn out from work. You should be grateful that bitch is taking care of your husband. Arguing with you just drains me more!" Victor snapped. He was already irritated. He had come home to see his daughter, not to hear Gloria's endless complaints.

"Worn out from work?" Gloria bit her lip. Her fists were clenched; she was tempted to strike him. But she had a bigger plan. After a sleepless night and tears, she was done holding things together.

The family she had fought so hard to preserve had shattered when she'd signed those papers.

In the past six months, she would lie awake every night, hoping that Victor would come back home. She would rush to the window at every car sound, hoping it was him.

But it never was. He had been with his secretary all the while, neglecting his real family.

Gloria snatched the divorce papers from the table and thrust them at Victor's chest.

He staggered back, bewildered. Squinting through his haze, he struggled to read the fine print.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded.

"Let this fix it," Gloria said. "It's our divorce paperwork. I've signed my part. You just need to do yours. You can call your lawyer to over the agreement since you're clearly hungover? And I want to have full custody of Annabel.

Victor's mind snapped into focus, his vision and hearing sharpening instantly. He frowned, staring at Gloria in disbelief.

"Yes," she said venomously, forcing herself to appear confident and unyielding, not the desperate wife he always dismissed. "I won't repeat myself again. I want a divorce."

Victor had cheated on her and stopped having sex with her since she was six months pregnant. He complained that she had gotten fat and had stretch marks all over her stomach. Gloria clung to that betrayal to steel her resolve. She wasn't the one at fault.

But God knew how her heart ached as she thrust the papers at him. One signature from him, and their marriage would end.

"You want to divorce me?" Victor asked. He was obviously shocked; he never expected his obedient wife to ask him for a divorce.

The word ignited something in Victor. He blinked rapidly, scanning the document. And it was real, a legitimate divorce filing.

Gloria meant it, but divorce was the last thing on his mind. He would never let her go, no matter what.

Victor craved the stability she'd provided. Despite his affairs, he had given her a life of comfort, the kind most women envied. How dare she demand a divorce? His mother never asked his father for divorce, despite his father cheating on his mother countless times. In fact, his father used to bring his mistresses to his matrimonial bed, and his mother would serve them diligently without complaining. So how dare Gloria ask for a divorce?

With wealth, she could have whatever she pleased-a yacht, designer wardrobes, anything. Yet Gloria was frugal, never extravagant enough for him to criticize. Money was his only leverage as a man.

"Is this about money?" Victor asked, waving the papers dismissively. "If you're upset because I slept with someone else, treat yourself. Buy a new bag, a dress, a car-you have an unlimited gold card. Buy whatever you want. Just drop this nonsense." That was how his father used to shut his mom up.

"If this is a joke, Mrs. Gloria Anderson, it's not funny. Go to the kitchen and make me a hangover soup. My head is pounding; that secretary of mine wore me out."

"I'm not Gloria Anderson anymore, you idiot," she snapped, snatching the papers back and pointing to her signature. "I'm using my maiden name now. See for yourself. I want nothing to do with you." Mr. Victor Anderson.

Victor squinted at the name: Gloria Zachary. She was dead serious, and it baffled him. Divorce him? In her dreams.

"Fuck this," he muttered, his headache pounding harder with every word she spoke. "I'm not in the mood for your crap, Gloria. Stop being stubborn; it will only make me angry with you. I gave you everything you need: money, stability, a fucking roof over your dumb head. What more do you need?"

Gloria clapped a hand over her mouth, stunned. He still couldn't see her side, couldn't fathom the pain he had been inflicting on her and their daughter.

Ten years of marriage, eight of them pure agony.

He'd confined her to the role of dutiful housewife, raising their daughter while he chased other women outside, never questioning his movements, and he acted as if it were nothing.

"I gave you a secure life, a beautiful home, and our daughter!" Victor shouted proudly. "So stop all this nonsense right now and tell me what you really want. This divorce blackmail ends now! Enough of your silly joke."

"I WANT A FUCKING DIVORCE, YOU BASTARD!" Gloria screamed, slamming her fist on his chest.

But she was petite, her blows harmless against his solid frame. Victor's irritation flared. He seized her wrists, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp in pain.

Leaning in close, his face mere inches from hers, he repeated his question, as if she hadn't heard him.

"You want a divorce? Don't be foolish. Let me remind you of your roots, you ungrateful bitch. I pulled you out of poverty. You were broke when I met you in high school; you couldn't even afford your college loans. You and your poverty-stricken family have lived off my money since we married, so if you think you can survive without me, then you need to have a rethink.

"Gloria, you're just a housewife. You are only good at taking care of the house chores and our daughter, so leave the decision-making to me. I'm doing you a favor," he pressed, convinced his words would break her. "Sure, I have my flings, but I have never brought any of my mistresses to our matrimonial home, where Annabel and you could see them. And it didn't stop the money flowing to you both."

"So, what will it take to end this divorce charade? You'll be left with nothing if you push it. Besides, you are already 30 years old; where do you want to start from?"

Gloria gazed at the man she had loved since high school, the one she'd given her body and heart to, the father of her child, the one who'd vowed eternal fidelity.

Tears welled in her eyes, one slipping down her cheek despite her efforts to control it.

"Love and respect."

"What?"

"I need love and respect from you, Victor Anderson," she said firmly.

For once, Victor was at a loss for words. The words felt alien, unheard from her lips in years. He thought she would ask for something else.

"Victor Anderson, look me in the eyes and tell me the truth: Do you still love me? Do you see me as your rightful wife? Why do you keep hurting me over and over again? Tell me why you hate me so much."

Victor fell silent instantly. He wasn't sure how to answer. He didn't hate Gloria. When they had first married, he had cherished her. He had believed he would love her forever and build a big family together. Having a child had been appealing, but during her pregnancy, her appearance started changing. She wasn't as beautiful as she used to be in his eyes anymore. He loathed the idea of having sex with her.

That first affair had unleashed an ecstasy he couldn't resist. He'd spiraled, sleeping with woman after woman while neglecting Gloria. After Annabel was born, it only worsened; he had new women to fuck every day.

If he claimed he loved her now, she'd see through the lie, and she'd be right.

Gloria bit her lip, tears streaming down her cheeks freely. "Fine, I will ask a simpler question," she stammered. "Are you willing to make love to me like you used to, before I got pregnant?"

The question hung unanswered.

Victor almost gagged, but he wouldn't admit that the thought repulsed him-her body changed by pregnancy, then motherhood, making her seem unkempt and undesirable. Even after she'd slimmed down and gotten back her hourglass shape, the damage was done. It gave him every excuse to seek out his secretary and the other women, with their tight pussies.

He gulped, completely at a loss for words, not knowing what to say to her.

Gloria's heart sank at his silence. She knew she was no longer attractive to him. There was no point in staying.

"I will take your silence as a no," she said, her face flushed with rage. "That's reason enough for a divorce. Sign the papers. I will handle the rest."

"No, I'm not signing any fucking papers."

Gloria was stunned by his firm refusal.

"What do you want then? What do you want from this loveless marriage? If it's about Annabel, we can share custody and make her believe everything's fine. Simple as that," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. She couldn't fathom him. "I can't do this anymore, Victor. You don't want me, yet you expect me to play the perfect wife while you sleep around. Am I just furniture to you? Are you insane?!"

She struggled against his grip, and finally, he released her wrists. She glared at him through tear-glazed eyes.

Victor took a deep breath. He had to turn this back on her. She shouldn't talk to him like that!

"Do you think I'm stupid? I know you, you just want half my money in the settlement so you can sleep with other men, right?" he accused calmly.

"Leech," he spat.

"How dare you! I don't need your money-not after everything you have done to me!" Gloria yelled. "I will only take my belongings and my daughter. Nothing else. You can keep your property and your money; I don't need them."

She stormed off to their bedroom, where she'd already packed her essentials into large suitcases-clothes, a few bags, shoes. She returned, dragging them behind her, while Victor watched her in disbelief.

"Sign the divorce papers," she demanded. "I can't wait for this to end in court."

She headed for the front door, and Victor finally reacted.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Anywhere but here. If I stay any longer in this house, I will go crazy. I will pick up Annabel's things once I find a place. It won't take long," Gloria said firmly, dragging her bag out.

"You won't survive without me, Gloria. You're thirty, too old for anyone to hire. No one wants a washed-up ugly housewife like you," Victor said ruthlessly, smirking.

Gloria stopped and glanced over her shoulder, the words cutting deep. She wanted to cry, but she had no tears left to shed for him. She was done with him.

"I hope you don't say the same to the next unlucky woman that will accept to marry you, Victor Anderson," she replied, then walked out, leaving him alone in the home they had built together.

She hailed a taxi to her friend's house. She didn't have much cash on her. Jada had offered to accommodate Gloria and her daughter until she got a job. As the car pulled away, Gloria looked back once more at the beautiful house she had once cherished. So many memories, but the bad ones overshadowed the good.

"My beautiful family," she murmured, mourning the shattered life.

Meanwhile, Victor stood in a daze, collapsing onto the sofa with the divorce papers in hand. He rubbed his temples, wondering if he'd said those cruel things just to lash out.

His gut screamed not to divorce her, even though he knew he didn't love her anymore. The settlement wasn't a concern; he's a billionaire, with wealth from his company and inheritance. Even splitting it, he would still remain a billionaire. Signing would free him from the guilt of cheating on her every day, and he would finally be free to fuck anyone he wanted without any consequences. He could even bring those women to his house instead of hotels. Gloria had said she would take Annabel with her, leaving him free as a bird.

"But why?" he muttered to himself. "Why can't I sign these papers?"

He sat there, lost in thought, until his phone vibrated. He checked the caller, hoping it was Gloria calling to say that she had changed her mind and wanted to fix things.

But it was someone else.

He answered, greeted by a familiar voice-the man who had vanished for ten years after he inherited the Anderson Group. His stepbrother.

Back then, his father had fathered a child with one of his mistresses and brought the same child back for his mother to take care of. His father never hid his favoritism toward his illegitimate son. When their father died ten years ago, he had left all the properties, including the Anderson Group, to his illegitimate son.

But his mother was smart enough to bribe the lawyer to change the will in his favor, leaving his stepbrother with nothing. But recently, his stepbrother had come back as a CEO of a new company.

"What is it, Lukas?" Victor asked impatiently.

"Hey, big brother, you free today? It's been ages since we caught up. How about lunch?"

Victor sighed. He knew not to trust his stepbrother.

"I can't right now. I'm busy."

"Come on, big brother, what could be more important to you than spending some quality time with your little bro?"

"It's not that big. I'll fill you in later. Let's have lunch together another day, okay?"

"Sure, big bro."

Lukas hung up, his eyes fixed on his sister-in-law lugging suitcases into a taxi. The driver loaded them, and as the car drove off from the mansion, Lukas smiled coldly.

"Not that important? Then let me turn her into a real problem for you, big bro. I have finally gotten the right weapon to take my revenge on you and my dearest stepmother." Lukas muttered to himself smiling.