Chapter 4

The contrast in how he addressed us was glaring.

He used my full name with icy detachment, yet he spoke to Serena with a familiar warmth that anyone could decode in an instant.

Serena's sudden concern was nothing more than a performance for his benefit, and Laurent bought every second of it. We were love rivals who had only met a handful of times; there was no way she'd actually care about me.

"Debbie!" Laurent snapped, his eyes flickering with anger.

He was clearly annoyed that I, who had always been so obedient, was suddenly standing my ground and blowing up at him.

Out of habit, my muscles tensed on autopilot, triggering a familiar wave of panic that urged me to apologize. I hated that muscle memory.

Shaking off the urge to cave, I hardened my expression.

"I've signed the divorce agreement and left it on the table," I stated impatiently, sick of rehashing the same argument. "If you don't return it signed within a week, I'm filing for a contested divorce."

To drive the point home, I pulled out my phone, opened the camera app, and aimed it at them, snapping several photos of them standing side by side.

Serena's jaw tightened with panic. "Debbie, what are you doing?"

"A contested divorce is a hassle in court," I replied blandly, adjusting my angle. "I have to provide the judge with proof that our marriage is irretrievably broken. So please, move a little closer to him."

I held up the phone, explaining my strategy while directing her movements. Serena was stunned, glancing awkwardly between Laurent and me.

Yet, she subconsciously leaned into Laurent's space, angling herself closer to him for the shot. I gladly captured every frame.

"Stop messing around!" Laurent lunged forward and yanked the phone out of my hand, trying to open the gallery to wipe the images.

The screen had gone dark, and he glowered at me. "Passcode."

"It's my birthday," I answered coolly, not even bothering to fight him for the device.

The photos had already been uploaded to the cloud, with a backup waiting on my tablet. He could do whatever he wanted with the phone; it wouldn't change a thing.

But his face went rigid. He couldn't unlock the screen because he had no clue when my birthday was.

A bitter wave of clarity washed over me. It turned out that every birthday gift I had received over our three years of marriage had been chosen and organized entirely by his assistant.

Laurent had merely handed them over after a calendar reminder told him it was my special day. I clicked my tongue and snatched my phone back from his frozen grip.

"I'm divorcing you, Laurent, and nothing you do is going to change that," I said firmly. "In the meantime, you'd better get Hunter under control before he gambles away everything he owns."

I was such a great person. Even now, I was trying to help them bond.

"What's wrong with Hunter?" Laurent pressed.

I simply turned and walked away. Serena's voice trailed behind me as she held him back.

"I heard Hunter started a betting pool in the group chat, wagering on when Debbie is going to come crawling back to you," she explained. "The stakes are insane. Tons of people are putting money down."

Laurent frowned. "That's absurd."

I glanced over my shoulder and saw him pull out his phone. He barked into the receiver, "Where are you?"

Just like that, his anger shifted onto Hunter. He didn't seem to grasp that I was the one who had been thoroughly humiliated by that stupid wager.

He was so focused on teaching his reckless brother a lesson that he didn't spare a second to apologize to me, even though I was standing right in front of him.

By the time I got back to my hotel room and finished washing up, an unfamiliar number called. I rejected it without a second thought, but a moment later, the same number sent me a text.

Having just received a brutal lashing from Laurent, Hunter took his rage out on me. The text was a stream of insults and contempt, blaming me for blowing his cover.

It was the same old story, and Laurent hadn't made Hunter apologize to me.

He could command Hunter to stop gambling, whoring, and street racing, yet he could never be bothered to teach Hunter how to treat me with basic respect.

Hunter and I had been college classmates once. When we first met all those years ago, he hadn't been like this, and neither had Laurent.