"At my mother-in-law's birthday party, my sister-in-law complained that I served the food too slowly and slapped me in front of the entire family. Without a second thought, I grabbed the heavy bowl of beef stew from the table and dumped it straight over her head. As she shrieked in shock, dripping with thick gravy, I leaned in and whispered, 'How do you like your serving now?'—and then..."

The conference room at Sterling’s legal firm was dead silent the following morning.

Richard sat across from me, looking utterly disheveled. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his bloodshot eyes, his expensive suit was crumpled, and he refused to look me in the face. Beside him, Howard Sterling looked deeply uncomfortable, having realized that his client was completely compromised.

Marcus sat beside me, radiating composed confidence, neatly arranging the divorce decrees and non-disclosure agreements across the mahogany table.

"My client has agreed to all financial terms outlined in your petition," Sterling announced clearing his throat nervously. "The Vance estate will transfer ownership of the downtown commercial real estate portfolio, along with a lump-sum settlement of eight million dollars, in exchange for full mutual non-disclosure and the surrender of all corporate audits."

"And Amanda?" I asked, looking directly at Richard.

Richard flinched, his voice hoarse when he spoke. "Amanda entered a guilty plea to misdemeanor assault this morning. She’s... she’s sentenced to two hundred hours of community service and a mandatory anger management program. The press is having a field day."

"A fitting consequence for someone who thinks she can slap people without repercussions," I said coldly.

Richard finally looked up, his eyes filled with bitter desperation. "Did you ever actually love me, Clara? Or was this all just a calculation?"

I looked at the man I had once tried so desperately to build a life with, feeling nothing but profound detachment. "I loved you enough to cook your meals, protect your secrets, and endure your family's cruelty for years, Richard. But you mistook my patience for weakness. You thought because I didn't scream, I didn't have teeth."

I picked up the pen and signed my name on the final line of the divorce decree.

"Sign the papers, Richard. Let’s finish this."