What Book Contains 'I Signed My Freedom While He Was Holding Her Hand'?

That night, it all crashed. Three years. The moment she pulled open that particular bedside drawer in his bedroom and saw those papers, the truth sliced her deeper than any blade. It was never her. Has never been. The divorce he handed her felt like the final betrayal, a signature sealing years of lies. And she left with nothing but her pride vowing never to turn back. But, a year later, fate deals a cruel twist when they clash over the same billion-dollar deal only for the investor to demand, 'Work together or walk away'. Now, bound by a forced partnership, he regrets letting her go while she wonders if this partnership will heal her heart or break it all over again.

He starts nibbling on my chest and starts pulling off my bra away from my chest. I couldn’t take it anymore, I push him away hard and scream loudly and fall off the couch and try to find my way towards the door. He laughs in a childlike manner and jumps on top of me and bites down on my shoulder blade. “Ahhh!! What are you doing! Get off me!!” I scream clawing on the wooden floor trying to get away from him.He sinks his teeth in me deeper and presses me down on the floor with all his body weight. Tears stream down my face while I groan in the excruciating pain that he is giving me. “Please I beg you, please stop.” I whisper closing my eyes slowly, stopping my struggle against him.He slowly lets me go and gets off me and sits in front of me. I close my eyes and feel his fingers dancing on my spine; he keeps running them back and forth humming a soft tune with his mouth. “What is your name pretty girl?” He slowly bounces his fingers on the soft skin of my thigh. “Isabelle.” I whisper softly.“I’m Daniel; I just wanted to play with you. Why would you hurt me, Isabelle?” He whispers my name coming closer to my ear.I could feel his hot breathe against my neck. A shiver runs down my spine when I feel him kiss my cheek and start to go down to my jaw while leaving small trails of wet kisses. “Please stop it; this is not playing, please.” I hold in my cries and try to push myself away from him.

The next time I asked Evelyn Bennett for a divorce, she still had not fully come down from her climax. Her hand was resting on the man's lean waist as she said, "Julian, do you think his V-lines are perfect? Especially when he's turned on and they move. It's completely irresistible." After saying that, she waited for me to react the way I always had before. She expected another hysterical outburst. But it was as if I had not heard a word. I simply flipped the divorce papers to the section on asset division. "Everything you've ever given me, I'll return. I'll leave on my own." Evelyn paused for a moment, then spoke as if nothing had happened. "Then can you give me back the heart I gave you, too? Stop being difficult, babe. You know you're the only one I've ever loved. Be good and go home. Wait for me there." I ignored her words and stubbornly held out the divorce agreement. Her heart was something I had stopped wanting a long time ago. The only thing I wanted now was freedom.

When the marriage contract was placed in front of me, I only took a moment to read the terms, but Lucien Moretti urged me three times to sign. He was in a hurry, after all. His precious savior, Isabella, was waiting for him to take her to her favorite opera. So I picked up the pen, but I did not sign my name. I copied Isabella’s handwriting and wrote hers instead. In my last life, I had signed that contract with a heart full of hope. I thought becoming Lucien’s wife meant I would finally stand beside him as the Donna of the Moretti family. Instead, he kept me hidden after the wedding. At every public event, Isabella was the woman on his arm. Every matter that should have required the Donna’s approval went through her first. I told myself I was not strong enough yet. I swallowed every insult and was forced to give up everything that should have been mine. Until the night gunmen broke into the Moretti estate, and Lucien chose her again. He carried Isabella out in his arms while I bled out behind him. Then I opened my eyes and found myself back before the wedding contract was sealed. This time, I gave Isabella the Donna’s necklace. I gave her the wedding dress. I even signed her name on the contract meant for me. I gave up my name, and I gave him up with it.

I didn't buy her out of kindness. Sophia Reeves came with a price tag — her father's debt, cleared in full. She became my wife on paper, a calculated move in a game of power and business. Nothing more. I built my empire by keeping emotions out of every equation. I never lose control. I never let anyone close enough to matter. But Sophia refused to follow my rules. She didn't bow to my money. She didn't flinch at my coldness. Every wall I built, she saw straight through — not because she was trying to break me, but because she was simply everything I never knew I was missing. I thought owning her legally meant I had the upper hand. I was wrong. The night she walked out with her head held high and nothing but the clothes on her back, I realized the truth I'd spent months denying: Somewhere between the contracts and the cold silences — she hadn't just taken pieces of my carefully guarded heart. She had taken all of it. And I would burn everything I built to get her back.

On the day of the divorce hearing, the judge went through the usual questions. “You’ve only been married for three years. Are you certain your marriage has broken down beyond repair?” I forced a bitter smile. I took off my wedding ring and placed it on the table. “We were married for three years, yet we were never together for all three years. “Your Honor, is there anything left between us?” We dated for five years before marriage. My name was pinned at the top of his WhatsApp. I was his emergency contact. I was even the beneficiary of his insurance policy. I thought I had married the right man. But on our wedding day, he received a phone call, and his face instantly turned pale. I asked him what happened. He only said his mother was sick. He left everything behind and immediately booked a flight back to his hometown. For the next three years, he sent me photos of his three meals every day, but his mother never appeared in any of those photos. I felt sorry for him. I even offered to quit my job and go back with him to take care of her. He had refused and said softly, “I can’t bear to let you do that.” A month ago, I saw a cancer influencer’s account online. Orion Young appeared in one of her vlogs. The caption was heartwarming. [He’s there when I wake up. He’s there for every meal. His hands are always there for me to hold.] What did that make me? For 1,095 days, I had only myself. He had been lying to me. The judge struck the gavel for the final time and asked, “Have you made your decision?” I nodded firmly. The court officially ended the marriage. I looked at the divorce judgment in my hands, and my tears finally fell. I thought, “Orion, I’m setting you free. I’m setting both of us free.”