"Alex Delgado, have you lost your mind? You expect me to serve your mistress during her confinement?"

The words barely left my lips before his palm connected with my cheek. The crack echoed through the room.

Blood flooded my mouth. My face burned like it had been branded.

He gripped my jaw, fingers digging in like iron pincers. His eyes held nothing—no warmth, no remorse. "Alex Whitney is not a mistress. Understand?"

He shoved me back. I staggered, lost my footing, and slammed into the sharp corner of the table. Pain shot up my spine.

He scoffed at my grimace.

"I thought you were tough. What's a little bump?" His voice dropped to ice. "You want a divorce? Not without my signature. You will never escape me."

He loomed over me. "Three days. Pack your things and go care for Alex Whitney. Refuse, and you won't like what happens next."

He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Silence settled. In the quiet, a bitter truth crystallized. For years, I'd been the one to bow my head in every argument. I'd believed marriage meant compromise—that endurance would make it last.

I was wrong. My submission hadn't earned love. It had only emboldened him.

He ignored my feelings completely, treating me like a woman who threatened to leave but lacked the spine to follow through. The audacity—demanding I care for the woman who destroyed our marriage.

Even now, he refused to face reality, still spinning empty promises, still trying to manipulate me.

Disgusting. Greedy. Whoever wanted him could have him.

I didn't care if I left with nothing. I was divorcing him.

An hour later, I sat on a bench outside the hospital, freshly bandaged. I scrolled through my phone until I found a number I hadn't dialed in years: Nathan Henson.

We'd been inseparable in high school. But after he went abroad for law school and I started dating Delgado, we drifted apart. To keep Delgado from getting jealous, I'd cut off contact entirely after the wedding.

Ten years. Gone in a blink.

I stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the call button. Finally, I pressed it.

"Alex? Is that you?"

His voice made my chest tighten. "Mm," I managed.

He still had my number. After all this time.

When I didn't speak, he chuckled nervously. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Don't tell me you're in trouble."

Same old Nathan. Still using humor to break tension.

"I... I need your help with something."

The words came out halting, reluctant. But I forced them through.

"Name it," he said instantly. "Where are you? I'm back in Riverdale. I'll come find you."

"I'm not in Riverdale. I'm in Seaside City."

"Seaside City." A pause. His tone shifted from surprised to focused. "Send me your location. I'm coming. Now."

Before I could protest, the line went dead.

Two hours later, the shop bell chimed. A tall, familiar figure stepped inside—Nathan Henson.

When his eyes found me, he rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost bashful.

"Hearing your voice... I couldn't just sit there." He shrugged. "Got a little excited."

"It's been so long. Figured I'd treat you to a meal."

His shy expression pulled a laugh out of me. It was only later I learned how he'd arrived so fast: private jet.

We caught up briefly, bridging the decade between us, before I laid everything out. All of it.

When I finished, Nathan shot up from his chair, face dark with rage.

"That animal." His fists clenched. "If that bastard were standing here right now, I'd kill him."

He rolled up his sleeves like he was ready to brawl. A genuine snort escaped me—my first real laugh in ages.

He thumped his chest, eyes locking onto mine.

"Leave it to me. I'll handle the lawsuit." His voice hardened with conviction. "We're going to destroy him."

Nathan handed me the dossier, his expression grave. "The more detailed the evidence, the better."

I scanned the list. Dealing with a man as controlling and vindictive as Alex Delgado required more than courage—it required strategy. Without tactics, he'd never let me go. He'd just tighten the leash.

Better to arm myself with undeniable proof and let the court swing the hammer. Litigation was the only language he understood.

I recounted what happened at the shop—how he'd stormed in, the scene he'd caused, the vile things he'd said.

"His personal admission of a third party is gold," Nathan said, leaning back. "He handed us the knife to cut him loose. In court, he won't have a leg to stand on."

The knot of anxiety in my chest began to loosen. The path forward was clear.

I gathered the list, grabbed my coat and bag, and offered him a genuine smile. "It's getting late. Let me buy you dinner—it's the least I can do."

Seeing the shadow lift from my face, he didn't stand on ceremony. "Deal. It's rare for you to treat, so I intend to eat my fill."

We were laughing, the atmosphere light, when the office door crashed against the wall.

Alex Delgado stood in the threshold, chest heaving, eyes locked on Nathan.

"Fine! Just fine!" He stepped into the room. "I told you Yolanda was pregnant. I expected you to cry, make a scene, maybe threaten to hang yourself. Instead, you ran off in a fit of pique."

He marched closer. "You kept insisting on divorce. Yolanda scolded me, said I was handling you wrong, that I should be sincere and invite you back."

His face twisted into a sneer. "So I came to apologize. And what do I find? You, shacking up with him? You dare cuckold me?"

He lunged at Nathan, fist raised.

The blow never landed.

Nathan caught his wrist mid-air. His grip was iron, his expression a terrifying calm.

"What do you think you're doing?" Nathan's voice was low, dangerous. "You dare raise your hand to me?"

Delgado struggled. Nathan didn't budge.

"A man who can't control his lower half, let alone his temper—and you call yourself Chief of Thoracic Surgery?" Nathan scoffed. "You're a disgrace to the white coat."

"You fool around, impregnate another woman, then have the audacity to demand your wife serve your mistress?"

He shoved Delgado's hand back, forcing him to stumble. "You shout 'thief' while you're the one stealing. If your conduct gets out, how will you face the medical board? Your reputation will be in tatters."

Delgado's face turned a sickly green. He straightened his jacket, eyes darting between us. "You... you wouldn't dare!"

He turned to me, gaze burning with malice. "Alex, if you ruin me, I'll destroy you. If you won't let me live in peace, don't think you will either."

Nathan didn't waste breath. He drove a sharp kick into Delgado, sending him stumbling toward the hallway. "With how pathetic you are, I don't know how Lexi was ever blind enough to fall for you."

I watched Delgado, feeling nothing but cold indifference. The fear was gone.

"It's not too late to see clearly now," I said. "Nathan, throw him out. Don't let him ruin our appetite."

Nathan grabbed Delgado by the collar and dragged him out like a sack of trash.

Delgado flailed, screaming as he was hauled away. "Alex! You want to dump me for him? Unless you come back and serve Yolanda during her confinement, forget it! If you make me happy, maybe I'll sign the papers! Otherwise, as long as I'm alive, you're mine! I'll drag this out until you're dead!"

The door slammed shut, cutting off his voice.

I stood there, shaken—not by his threats, but by the revelation of his true nature.

Ten years of marriage. We'd had our frictions, our arguments, but I'd never seen him look so vicious, so devoid of humanity. For a decade, he'd hidden behind a mask of gentility.

If this divorce hadn't enraged him enough to tear that mask off, I might never have known the monster sleeping beside me.

No wonder my father had warned me before the wedding. He'd seen past the charm I was too blind to question.

My own fault. Back then, I was a love-struck fool, so desperate for affection I insisted on jumping into the fire pit.

Now, I had to climb my way out.

After Nathan dropped me off that night, I paced my apartment until the answer solidified. I had to go back.

As the saying goes, you have to walk into the tiger's den to catch the cubs.

My only desire was freedom. The thought of staying by Lucas's side another minute made my stomach churn, but I needed leverage.

I called Nathan to explain my plan. His voice came through tight with tension.

"Are you sure you want to go back there?"

"I have to," I murmured, staring at my reflection in the darkened window. "The evidence we have isn't enough. You know Lucas's personality—he's rotten to the core. Getting him to agree to a divorce without a fight will be impossible."

I took a breath, steeling myself. "I don't want to be entangled with him a second longer than necessary. My best option is to feign compliance, play the submissive wife, and collect the evidence I need to bury him."

Strategically, it was the right move. Lucas had only met Nathan once; he assumed I was the one cheating and had no idea the man he'd seen was a high-powered lawyer.

I wasn't about to let a scumbag ruin the rest of my life.

Hearing the resolve in my voice, Nathan let out a resigned sigh. "Alright. But promise me—if anything happens, you call me immediately."

Early the next morning, after settling matters at my shop, I drove back to Riverdale.

I had lived in that house for ten years, yet standing before it now, a wave of nausea washed over me. It didn't feel like a home; it felt like a crime scene.

But my mindset had shifted.

If enduring a little disgust was the price for permanently ridding myself of that man, then so be it.

I knocked. A moment later, a nanny I didn't recognize answered.

"Hello, Miss. Who are you looking for?"

From the entryway, the sharp wail of an infant drifted down the hall.

My jaw tightened. Sure enough, the moment I left, Lucas had moved Yolanda right in. He hadn't even waited for the ink to dry.

"Call Lucas," I said, my voice ice-cold. "Tell him I'm here to serve his mistress during her postpartum confinement."

The nanny's eyes widened. She froze, mouth opening and closing, unsure how to handle the sudden appearance of the actual lady of the house.

Before she could stammer out a reply, Yolanda came running from the master bedroom.

"Lexi! You're here!" She beamed, her face a mask of feigned innocence. "Why didn't you give me a heads-up? I would have had Lucas pick you up. This makes me look like a terrible sister."

I watched her descend the stairs, remembering the first time I met her—a timid intern under Lucas's supervision.

I didn't know if she'd ever been made a permanent doctor, but she had certainly succeeded in other areas. Relying on her abilities, she had climbed into her mentor's bed and secured her position with a pregnancy.

Truly capable.

And Lucas, the fool, had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.

Looking at Yolanda's fawning, hypocritical face, I felt a dark laugh bubbling in my chest. I wondered if she could actually cross the threshold as a legitimate wife once I was gone.

"Save it," I said, brushing past her. "I'm going to my room to rest. Oh, and my fee is one hundred thousand dollars a month."

Yolanda froze. "One hundred thousand?"

I stopped and turned, fixing her with a bored stare.

"What? Lucas begged me to come back and serve you. Don't tell me you didn't know?" I tilted my head, eyes mocking. "Or does the future Mrs. Delgado think I'm not worth the price? Were you planning to use me for free?"

Before she could retort, the baby let out another ear-splitting shriek.

I didn't spare the sound a second thought. I walked straight past the master bedroom toward the guest room next door.

Yolanda scrambled after me, panic flaring in her eyes. "You can't stay in this room!"

"Oh?" I stopped in the doorway, spinning to face her. I stepped into her space, forcing her to retreat until her back hit the doorframe.

I leaned in close, staring hard at her seductive, terrified face. "Why not? Are you afraid Lucas might..." I let the sentence hang.

"Impossible!" she shrieked. "Don't you even think about it!"

"Is that so?" A cold smile played on my lips. "Men are fickle creatures, Yolanda. Nothing is guaranteed."

"You... just you wait!"

She slammed the door in my face. The frame rattled.

I chuckled softly. A few vague words and she crumbled. Her insecurity was palpable.

This month was going to be quite the show.

Once silence returned to the hallway, I opened my bag. I took out the miniature surveillance cameras I had prepared. Moving quickly and quietly, I began installing them in every blind spot of the room.

Alex Delgado was determined to reduce me to a glorified servant for his kept woman during her postpartum confinement.

If that was his game, he would find I wasn't playing by the old rules.

Initially, I just wanted a clean divorce and a quiet life. But now? I had changed my mind. I was going to use this opportunity to strip him bare and ensure he left our marriage with nothing.