Chapter 7

I was stunned, totally in disbelief. "Ronald, seriously? You still think I’m just making a fuss?" I’ve told him over and over, signed the divorce papers even, and he still thinks I’m just being dramatic? Ronald stood tall and stiff, but he leaned down slightly towards me, his voice low. “Isabella, playing hard to get might be cute the first time. Do it twice, three times, and it just gets old. “If you’re done throwing a tantrum, come home. Don’t push it and test my patience.” I stared at his dark expression, then suddenly chuckled in disbelief. “Ronald, can you stop acting like the world revolves around you? You’re not the sun, okay? I won’t drop dead without you. “I’m gonna say it one last time—I want a divorce. I’m not joking.” His face went cold, a sharp chill in his blue eyes. “You’re just after money, aren’t you? How much this time? Name your price. I don’t have time to keep playing this game with you. And don’t embarrass me in public.” My face went pale. That slap of humiliation hit hard—and I’d felt it before. In that past life, he’d always looked down on me like a king looking at a servant, crushing my dignity underfoot. Something snapped. I shoved him hard. “I said I don’t want your damn money! Ronald, stop thinking the whole world runs by your logic. Haven’t you seen the divorce agreement? There's not a single word in there about splitting assets!” Maybe he didn’t expect that, because he actually stumbled back a couple steps. His face was so dark it looked like it’d start storming any second. Nicholas gave a snort-laugh on the side. “Well damn, Ron. Never thought I’d see the day you got rejected. And arguing too—by a woman, no less. Shocking stuff.” Ronald shot him a glare that could kill, and Nicholas quickly shut up. But then he looked at me with a grin and a thumbs-up. “Isabella, you’ve got it going on now. You used to spoil Ron too much—always the sweet, obedient one. No boundaries. But now? You’ve flipped the script. Showing your temper's good. Makes him realize you’re not someone he can just push around. Look, he’s actually behaving.” Ronald and I snapped in unison, “Shut up!” Nicholas just smirked, rubbing his cheek with his tongue like it was no big deal. “Alright, alright, I’ll zip it. Just one last thing though—Ron’s basically emotionally blind. Dude’s so used to being chased, he’s clueless when it comes to chasing others. “Don’t stay mad at him, okay? His stomach’s acting up again. When I saw him this morning, he looked like he’d pass out. Wouldn’t eat anything, still hurting I bet. And he only eats your cooking…” Before he could finish, Ronald shot him another deadly glare. “Nicholas, say one more word and you’ll regret it.” That finally shut him up for real. Nicholas even dragged his assistant with him and backed away quickly. Honestly, I was shocked. Ronald didn’t go run straight to his precious first love? This was the perfect drama moment and he didn’t take the chance? I was still trying to wrap my head around that when he suddenly spoke again, his voice low and icy. "Isabella, in this whole year of marriage, everything you’ve worn, your makeup, your bags, your jewelry—every single piece, I bought them. "You’re the clingy type that can’t survive without a man. Just admit you want money and quit playing tricks. Using a divorce as cover? Not very clever. "Move back home tonight. And all the stuff you took? Put it back. Otherwise, don’t bother coming back ever." His dark, sharp eyes locked onto me, like he was dead sure I was just playing hard to get, pretending to be mad so I'd cave for the money and come crawling back. My chest rose and fell with anger, and I couldn't help but let out a laugh. There was a sting behind that laugh—bitterness mixed with helplessness. Back in my last life, before the divorce, he did splurge on me quite a bit. Whatever I asked for, he'd buy it without blinking. But I wasn’t some greedy gold digger—I just wanted a few meaningful gifts on special days to mark our life together. I used to give him gifts too. He never took them. So later on, I’d cook instead. He gave me a gift, I cooked him a feast. I thought that was our little couple thing—but turns out, he saw it as me trying to milk him for cash. Looking back, maybe even his gifts were just a way to keep me quiet, like tossing a bone to a dog. Nothing genuine. Even with all the time that’s passed, the memory still stings. My jaw clenched tight. "Ronald, you better hear me loud and clear—your so-called money means nothing to me! If I hadn’t married you and become a freaking housewife, I wouldn’t have had to come begging in the first place! "We both clearly can’t stand each other, so let’s cut the crap. I’m done playing the quiet wife. Just give me the damn divorce. I swear, from now on, we’re strangers. Like, forever! "Even if I end up broke and starving someday, don’t think for a second I’ll come looking to you for a dime." With every word I threw at him, Ronald’s face got darker and darker. His hands, hanging by his sides, were clenching so hard his knuckles popped. I started yanking off every accessory he gave me, slipping off my jacket and kicking off my heels, dumping them all right there in front of him. Ronald's face turned thunderous. "What the hell are you doing?" I looked up at him, expression cold and dripping with sarcasm. "You bought these, right? Take ’em back. Everything I took with me when I left—if it’s yours, it’s staying here. "Honestly, I was being nice, packing up my stuff so your new girl could move in clean. But now you want me to give everything back and put it all back in place? Wow, and here I thought I'd seen cheap. You’ve broken the record. "You're unbelievable, Ronald. No wonder no woman wants you. Marrying you was the worst life decision I've ever made!" Ronald looked like he was about to explode, his face dark like a storm cloud. Rarely have I seen him this pissed. Burning with rage, I jabbed the elevator button. Couldn’t even storm out properly—how annoying was that? For once, Ronald didn’t chase after me. He just turned and left in the other direction. Yeah, he was mad, all right. I hit a nerve. He tried so hard for his precious first love, now I flat-out told him he’s got no game. Bet that burned. Behind me, Nicholas chimed in with that annoying mock-dramatic tone, clearly enjoying the drama. “Damn, you’ve got fire! I’ve never seen Ronald lose it like that. Respect. I like the vibe. Feel free to drop by anytime.” “If you’re really getting divorced, maybe think about me. Rich, handsome… I’m not exactly a downgrade.” As if. I turned and shot him a glare. This player was just like Ronald—couldn’t be trusted. Then I noticed the secretary—who’d been standing there silently this whole time—leaning in and whispering something in Nicholas's ear. He suddenly looked up at me, eyes wide with surprise. Great. He must’ve overheard Ronald calling me a clinger earlier and now figured out I was here to interview for the chief designer spot. So yeah, I’m job hunting... right in Ronald’s buddy’s company. Perfect. And after all that drama? God. Could things get any messier?