*"Let’s get a divorce."
Two thin sheets of paper were enough to end their four-year marriage.
Michelle's fingers rested lightly on the contract, tracing the bold signature Max had signed. Her eyes slowly lifted to look at him, sadness clear in her gaze.
"Is there no chance you’ll change your mind?" she asked softly.
Her voice was hoarse, and sweat clung to her forehead from the chores she had been doing all day. It made her black-framed glasses slide down slightly, making her look tired and clumsy.
She had spent the whole day preparing. Waking up early, buying groceries, cooking his favorite meal, and cleaning the house until it was spotless. She thought they would talk and find a way to fix things. But instead, he came back with divorce papers.
Max exhaled, flicking the ash from his cigarette with an impatient expression. "This marriage was a deal from the beginning," he said casually. "Besides, Maya will be back soon."
Michelle's heart clenched at the mention of Maya. She had always been Max’s weakness—his ‘true love.’
Michelle pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, swallowing the bitterness. She had always known this moment would come. The day Maya came back, Max would throw everything else away, including her. Just like when they first got married, she knew he didn’t love her.
Still, a small part of her had hoped.
Max glanced at her as the silence stretched. Michelle sat there with her head lowered, the usual quiet acceptance in her posture.
He studied her. Michelle was beautiful—perfect skin, delicate features, soft lips, and even behind those glasses, her eyes had a special shine. But she was too dull, too obedient. She was a good wife, but not the kind of woman he wanted.
Taking another drag from his cigarette, Max tapped the contract with his finger. "I know your... history might make it hard for you to find a new job," he said coolly. "So, apart from splitting our assets fairly, I’ll give you three villas, the limited-edition Ferrari, and fifty million in cash."
Michelle's lips twitched slightly. His generosity felt more like guilt money than kindness.
Four years ago, Max had chased Maya across the world, angering his wealthy grandfather enough to cut him off. To regain his position in the Luke family, he agreed to marry Michelle—a woman with a questionable past. A woman who had just been released from prison.
Max didn’t love her, but she had played her part well. She never caused trouble and kept things running smoothly. Now that she was no longer needed, he was ready to pay her off and move on.
"I’ll give you three days to think about it," Max continued, sounding bored. "But don’t take too long. My patience has limits."
Michelle didn’t hesitate. She picked up the pen and signed the contract with a steady hand.
"No need," she said. "I’ll leave today. I won’t trouble you."
Max gave a short nod, not showing any emotion. "Alright."
Even now, Michelle remained calm, just as she had been throughout their marriage. If anything, she was the ideal wife in high society—graceful, obedient, and proper. But love? That had never been part of their relationship.
Before Max could say anything else, the door suddenly burst open with a loud **BANG.**
"Big bro!" a loud, high-pitched voice rang out.
Grifford, Max’s younger sister, walked in without knocking, grinning from ear to ear. "I heard you're finally divorcing that ex-convict today. Can I have her Ferrari?"
Michelle sighed inwardly, already used to Grifford's rude behavior.
Max frowned. "How many times have I told you to knock when I’m having important discussions?" His tone was annoyed but not truly angry.
Grifford shrugged, not caring. "Whatever. Just give me the keys, okay? I told my friends I'd take them for a spin."
Max nodded in Michelle’s direction. "Hand the car keys to Grifford."
Michelle looked at him calmly. "Didn’t you say that car was mine?"
Her voice was still gentle, but there was a sharpness in it that Max wasn’t used to.
Grifford scowled and stomped forward. "Oh, come on! This house belongs to my brother. You’re just a guest. Hand over the keys already!"
Michelle had always been patient with Grifford. She had treated her with kindness, even when Grifford had caused trouble in the past—like when she offended the wrong people and Michelle had to clean up the mess.
But today, something inside her had changed.
"No," Michelle said firmly, staring directly at Max. "I want to keep the car. Are you really going to take back even that?"
Grifford's face twisted with anger. "You think you can go against me?"
She stepped closer and slapped Michelle across the face—hard. The sharp sound echoed in the room.
Michelle slowly turned her head back, touching her burning cheek. "Looks like you never learned any manners," she said, her voice calm but dangerous.
Grifford laughed mockingly. "So what? What are you gonna do about it?"
Without hesitation, Michelle grabbed the nearby vase and dumped the water and flowers right over Grifford’s head.
"You seem to be lacking proper discipline, so I’ll teach you a lesson," Michelle said coldly.
Grifford screamed, shaking the water out of her hair. "You—you crazy woman!"
Max sighed and rubbed his temple. "Grifford, stop causing a scene."
Grifford pointed at Michelle furiously. "She’s insane, Max! Are you just going to let her treat me like this?"
Michelle took off her glasses, wiping them slowly. "I’ve put up with enough over the years," she said. "Not anymore."
Grifford lunged at her, but Max caught her arm. "Enough. Go dry off," he ordered.
Grifford stormed out of the room, muttering under her breath.
Michelle picked up her handbag and looked at Max one last time. "Goodbye, Max," she said softly.
He watched her walk away without saying a word.
*Outside, Michelle stood by the car.
The evening breeze was cool against her damp cheek. She looked at the Ferrari, the car she had fought for. In reality, it wasn’t about the car—it was about the principle.
She deserved at least this much after four years.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, she gripped the wheel tightly. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she felt... free.
For years, she had been the quiet, obedient wife. But now, as she drove through the city streets, she felt something stir within her.
She wasn’t just ‘Max’s wife’ anymore.
She was Michelle.
And she was done being walked all over.
-Meanwhile, inside the Luke mansion
Max sat back in his chair, staring at the signed contract on the desk.
Grifford, still dripping wet, stood nearby with her arms crossed. "Are you really just going to let her walk away like that?" she huffed.
Max didn’t answer right away. He had expected Michelle to beg, to cry—to cling to him like she always did.
But she hadn’t.
Instead, she had surprised him.
"She’s changed," he murmured to himself.
Grifford rolled her eyes. "Good riddance. She was boring anyway."
Max wasn’t so sure.
For the first time in four years, he realized he might not have understood Michelle at all.
And the thought unsettled him.
As Michelle drove further and further away from the mansion, she realized something.
She wasn’t afraid anymore.
She was free.
And for the first time in a long time, she smiled.
