Chapter 9
448words
“I miss my son. Experts say babies need interaction with their fathers. You can't take that away from him.”
“Let me see him tonight—play with him. Okay?”
Mentioning our son was the last straw.
I shoved him away and slapped him!
“Ryan, if you had any conscience, you wouldn't dare talk about him!”
“Besides biologically, have you ever changed a diaper? Fed him once? Do you even deserve to say his name?!”
People stopped to stare.
Ryan looked down, guilty.
Chloe waddled over, eyes red,
“You miss her son? What about my baby?”
Ryan pushed her aside, pleading with me,
“Let's talk somewhere private.”
“No need. We'll talk in court tomorrow,” I said firmly.
“Ryan, listen carefully, Ethan is my son. After the divorce, I'm changing his last name to mine. I'll find him a better father. He will have nothing to do with you!”
With that, I got into Bella's car.
Behind us, Ryan hurried to his car.
Chloe, belly prominent, awkwardly tried to get in.
She looked desperate and pitiful.
The next day, court went as expected—first attempt didn't grant the divorce.
The judge scheduled another hearing in three months.
As I left, Ryan approached.
He noticed I'd dressed up, wore makeup, looked radiant.
Full of regret, he said,
“Let's not divorce. Let's make it work. I'll send Chloe away—no more separate cities. I promise it'll only be you.”
I met his red-rimmed eyes, smiling,
“What about Chloe's baby?”
He hesitated,
“I'll… ask her to terminate it. Okay?”
I smirked,
“You really are… consistently terrible.”
I got into Bella's car without looking back.
Soon, my lawyer called to reassure me,
“Most divorces are granted the second time. I'm confident—don't worry.”
I smiled,
“If it ended now, it'd be better for Ryan.”
“What do you mean?”
I didn't explain.
I was preparing my counterattack.
That night, I posted a well-prepared PDF.
Twenty pages detailing Ryan's affair with Chloe—all evidence.
I shared it on social media—it went viral quickly.
But I wasn't just venting.
In the post, I included,
“Any client working with Ryan—if you switch to my friend Bella's company, we'll offer a 5% discount.”
Bella's family business was huge.
A 5% discount was unprecedented.
Within an hour, Ryan's partners were calling me,
“Is this true, Emily?”
“Yes,” I confirmed.
I spent the night negotiating.
Before bed, Bella warned me,
“Don't soften up this time.”
She knew how much I'd sacrificed for Ryan's second business.
Once, I worked so hard I passed out—woke up in the hospital three days later.
She knew—without my resources, Ryan would fail miserably.
I shook my head,
“No softening. I'm enjoying this.”
Bella grinned, relieved.
