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"You went through my things?" he asked, his voice a mixture of shock and anger.
I met his gaze unflinchingly, the dam of my emotions finally breaking. "That's what you're concerned about?" I challenged, my voice quivering with barely contained rage. "Not the contents of that file? Don’t you try to turn this around on me you son of a bitch. Everything was a lie. Everything. You knew all about Raphael Caruso and what he did to my father. You knew about my father’s dirty dealings, and you refused to tell me anything. You almost got us killed.”
“I did it to protect you. How would you have felt if I told you the Carusos were after you?”
Unshed tears burned the backs of my eyes. “You put me in a cocoon, and I thought I was safe. I had no idea he was hunting me. Because of your lies, you got three people killed and Raquel paralyzed. I would’ve been killed if not for Brenda.”
He wouldn’t look at me, focusing on his lap. “I didn’t lie. I didn’t reveal the truth for a reason. You were having nightmares, and I didn’t want them to get worse. If you knew the truth, they would’ve. Our wedding was coming up and I didn’t want to destroy the bliss you were feeling.”
“That’s long over. Do you know how I’ve been dealing with all this shit?”
“Obviously not very well. How do you think I feel when you act like you don’t care? I would’ve given my life for you.”
I said words I never thought I would. I’d thought about them so much. “I wish you would’ve,” I whispered.
He stared at me. “You wanted me to die?”
My voice cracked. “I hate you for what you’ve done. I can’t love you, Oliver, I just can’t. Any love I had for you died on that island.”
His jaw bulged with tension. “Is that why you told Henri to call you Miss Stewart again?”
I was screaming inside. I had no idea Oliver was speaking to Henri and he never said anything.
“I can’t do this with you. I wanted to wait but since it’s out in the open, I want a divorce.”
His face reddened. “NO! You’re not leaving me.”
“You’re right, I’m not leaving you. You’re leaving as soon as you’re well enough. I might even be cordial enough to give you a stipend to live.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m a fucking billionaire and it’s my money,” he yelled.
I smirked. “Should’ve read the fine print on your own power of attorney. You gave me control of everything. Your money, our home, your companies and anything else attached to you. I have to relinquish control in writing, and I’m not prepared to do that. You have nothing Oliver and without a prenup, you can’t take it back when we divorce.”
“You can fucking have it!” he screamed. “Without you, I have nothing. I love you.”
I dug my nails into my palms. I had to remain strong. “The feeling isn’t mutual,” I spat out. “My love for you disappeared months ago. I have so much hate in my heart that I wish you died. Maybe Lara Harvin can put you up. You have a bond that we’ll never have. Another dirty little secret you decided to keep from me. You made a child with her.”
“Faith died. I would’ve loved my child no matter who it was with,” he said quietly.
"Then why didn't you tell me about it?" I demanded, my voice trembling with barely contained fury. "I kept asking, and she dropped little hints here and there."
Oliver's eyes darted away, unable to meet my gaze. "I paid her to keep quiet," he admitted, his words barely above a whisper. Then, with a hint of desperation, he added, "I would've eventually told you."
I laughed sarcastically, the sound harsh in the tense atmosphere of the room. "Oliver, these were things you should've told me before we got married, not after the fact." I paused, my next words aimed like a dagger. "Imagine my shock when I found the ultrasound of your child."
Panic flashed across Oliver's face. He reached out, his hand trembling. "You can't do this. You can't leave me," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "You're what's keeping me going."
I took a step back, my expression hardening. "Face it, Oliver, you've lost me for good."
As I retreated further, a cruel impulse seized me. I turned, delivering one final, devastating blow. "I've fucked other men while you've been in the hospital," I hissed, watching his face crumple. "It felt so good to betray our marriage vows."
Oliver's shoulders sagged as he buried his face in his hands, his body wracked with sobs. I turned away, a strange mix of satisfaction and self-loathing washing over me. My transformation was complete, I thought as I walked to the kitchen.
I was a bonafide cunt.
Later, I settled onto my bed with my laptop, the burn of scotch in my throat a poor distraction from Oliver's muffled cries. Suddenly, a loud scream pierced the air, followed by a sharp pinging sound from his bedroom. I didn't move, realizing with a start that I truly didn't care anymore.
When the nurse arrived a half hour later, Oliver was asleep. In the hallway, I spotted his wedding ring on the floor, a slight dent marring its perfect circle. I picked it up, turning it over in my hand. Apparently, Oliver was stronger than he appeared.
