Joslyn's body trembled, a fine, uncontrollable shiver born of shock and a pain so deep it felt physical. She stared at Jude, searching his face for a sign, any sign that this was some kind of cruel joke.

There was nothing. Only a wall of ice.

He turned away from her, his back a rigid line of dismissal. He addressed the housekeeper, who had appeared silently in the doorway. "Mrs. Gable, prepare the south-facing suite on the second floor for Mrs. Franklin and young Mr. Leo."

"Mrs. Franklin?" The title sliced through Joslyn's haze of pain. The south-facing suite. That was the master bedroom.

Their bedroom.

A surge of desperate anger propelled her forward. She grabbed his arm, her nails digging into the fine wool of his suit. "Jude, you can't! That's... that's our room!"

He ripped his arm away with a sharp, violent motion. The force sent her stumbling backward, her hip colliding hard with the corner of the marble coffee table. A dull thud echoed in the room.

"Oh my God!" Kisha gasped, pulling Leo behind her as if Joslyn were a wild animal about to attack.

Jude's eyes were colder than she'd ever seen them. "There is no 'our' anymore, Joslyn. There are only my decisions."

He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a folded document. He tossed it onto the coffee table. It landed with a soft, final slap.

"That's a divorce agreement," he said, his voice flat. "I will give you two options-either divorce, or adopt a child."

Joslyn stared at the crisp white paper. She decided she would endure no longer.

"Divorce," she whispered. This whole scheme was set up from the start.

Her quick agreement seemed to throw him. A flicker of something-annoyance? confusion?-crossed his face before he masked it. He hadn't expected her to fold so easily.

Joslyn picked up the pen from the table. She didn't read a single clause. She flipped to the last page and scrawled her name on the signature line. The scratching of the nib on the paper was the only sound.

She pushed the document back toward him. "There. Can I go now?"

Jude stared at her signature, a muscle ticking in his jaw. A dull throb started behind his eyes, a familiar, unwelcome sensation that made the edges of his vision blur. A phantom scent of jasmine-her perfume-seemed to mock him. He balled his hands into fists at his sides, a strange, restless energy coiling inside him, an urge to undo something he couldn't name.

"Kisha and Leo are moving in tonight," he said, his voice clipped. "You should pack your things. Now."

Joslyn didn't grant him another look. She turned and walked toward the grand staircase.

As she passed Kisha, the other woman leaned in, her voice a triumphant whisper. "Thank you for making this easy for us."

Joslyn stopped. She turned her head just enough to meet Kisha's gaze, her own voice just as low, but laced with steel. "Don't celebrate too soon. Things that are stolen have a way of getting lost again."

The color drained from Kisha's face.

Joslyn continued up the stairs, each step heavy. She entered the bedroom, a space she had filled with her personal touches, with books and art, with the faint scent of her perfume. With memories.

There were no more tears. Just a profound, crushing numbness. She opened the walk-in closet and pulled out the small suitcase she had arrived with three years ago.

She packed only a few changes of clothes, the simple things she owned before him. Everything he had ever bought her-the designer dresses, the jewelry, the shoes-she left untouched.

From downstairs, she could hear Leo's happy laughter and Kisha's soft, cooing voice directing the staff. The sounds were like needles piercing her eardrums.

A sharp knock on the door made her jump. Mrs. Gable stood there, her face a carefully blank mask. "Sir asks that you hurry. Mrs. Franklin needs to rest."

Joslyn snapped the suitcase shut. She dragged it behind her, out of the room that was no longer hers.

At the top of the stairs, she saw Kisha, already playing the lady of the manor, pointing to where a vase should be placed.

Jude stood by the window, his back to her, deep in a business call. It was as if she, and the life they had shared, had already ceased to exist.

She walked down the staircase, one step at a time, the wheels of her suitcase bumping against the marble. Each sound was a beat of her broken heart.

As Joslyn reached the front door, dragging the small suitcase behind her, Jude's assistant, Travis Shaw, was waiting. He had the decency to look uncomfortable.

"Mrs. York... Ms. Cameron," he corrected himself hastily. "The car is ready to take you to the apartment."

Joslyn shook her head, her voice surprisingly steady. "That won't be necessary, Travis. I'll get my own ride."

She pulled out her phone. In full view of Travis, of the hovering house staff, of Jude who had just ended his call, she opened a legal services website. She began filling out an online petition for dissolution of marriage.

Jude's brow furrowed. "What are you doing? I gave you the agreement."

She ignored him, her fingers flying across the screen. When she reached the section on division of assets, she checked the box: "No contest. Waive all claims to marital property."

She hit submit. A confirmation page appeared. She turned the screen toward Jude, the bright light illuminating the cold fury in her eyes.

"Now, we're even," she said, her voice clear and ringing in the cavernous entryway. "Your money, your apartment... I don't want a single penny."

Jude's pupils contracted. He stared at her, a flicker of disbelief in his eyes. He had expected tears, pleading, a scene. Not this cold, calculated severance.

Behind him, Kisha's lips curled into a smug, contemptuous smile. She thought Joslyn was putting on a brave face, a pathetic act of pride.

Joslyn's gaze shifted to Kisha, and her own mouth curved into a chilling smile.

She raised her voice, ensuring every servant within earshot could hear her clearly. "Ms. Franklin, congratulations. But there's something I feel I should remind you of."

Kisha's smile froze.

"Last month," Joslyn continued, her tone conversational, "you called me. You said your son, Leo, had been diagnosed with acute leukemia and needed an emergency bone marrow transplant. You begged me for two hundred thousand dollars, said it was his only hope."

Kisha's face went white as a sheet. "You... you're lying!"

"I felt sorry for you," Joslyn went on, her eyes scanning the perfectly healthy-looking child hiding behind Kisha. "A single mother with a sick child. It must be so difficult. But looking at him now..." She let the sentence hang in the air. "Leo seems to have made a miraculous recovery. The medical technology in New York is truly astounding."

A ripple of murmurs went through the staff. Their eyes, once filled with pity for Kisha, now held suspicion.

Jude's jaw tightened. He looked from Joslyn to a panicked Kisha, a deep line forming between his brows.

Kisha grabbed Jude's arm, her voice shrill with desperation. "Jude, don't listen to her! She's just jealous! She's trying to poison you against me!"

Joslyn didn't even bother to watch the performance. She had planted the seed of doubt. That was enough.

She felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She turned to leave, but something on her wrist caught the light.

A jade bracelet. It had belonged to Jude's late mother, Clementine. She had placed it on Joslyn's wrist on her wedding day, calling it a symbol of the York family matriarch.

Joslyn took a deep breath. Without a moment's hesitation, she slid the cool, heavy bracelet from her arm.

She walked back to Jude, stopping directly in front of him. She took his hand, uncurled his fingers, and placed the bracelet in his palm.

Her skin was ice-cold against his. He flinched as if burned.

"This," she said, her voice soft but heavy, "belongs to you."

She met his stunned gaze. "Tell Clementine I'm sorry. I can't wear it for her anymore."

A sharp, unfamiliar pain lanced through Jude's chest, so intense it made him gasp. He felt an overwhelming urge to grab her, to demand what she meant, to stop her from walking away.

But his body wouldn't move.

A rideshare pulled up to the curb.

Joslyn turned, walked out the door without a backward glance, and got into the car. She disappeared from his life as cleanly as she had signed away their marriage.

Jude stood frozen in the doorway, his hand automatically clutching his chest. It felt hollow. A fragmented image flashed behind his eyes—Joslyn laughing, sunlight catching the green of the bracelet on her wrist. The memory vanished as quickly as it came, leaving a confusing ache. In his other hand, the jade bracelet was a cold, hard, damning weight.