Chapter 5: The Divorce Ultimatum

In the living room, Carter sat upright on the sofa.

He looked every bit the CEO—crisp suit, polished shoes, not a hair out of place.

Surprisingly, after waiting all morning, his expression was calm—no anger, no scowl.

He looked at me, eyes steady. Like he’d been expecting this version of me all along.

I flopped onto the sofa, glancing at him. "Whatever you need, spit it out."

I crossed my legs, matching his calm with my own.

Carter looked up, his tone steady. "My mom said you’ve changed. I didn’t believe her, but it’s clear now—something really is different about you."

He studied me, as if trying to solve a puzzle. I held his gaze, unflinching.

No wonder he was CEO of a major company—he could see at a glance that I wasn’t the same as before.

He was sharp, always reading the room. I wondered what he saw now.

Unlike Mrs. Whitaker and Gloria, who still didn’t get it and kept threatening me with my mom’s bills.

They were stuck in their old patterns, too blind to notice the change.

If they’d just thought for a second, they’d realize that if I wasn’t letting them push me around anymore, I must have something to rely on.

It was obvious, if you paid attention.

Funny thing is, Mrs. Whitaker still didn’t know I’d already moved my mom.

She was so sure of her power, she never bothered to check.

As for Carter, smart as he was, he’d been in power so long he’d grown arrogant and dismissive.

He was used to people jumping at his command. He never expected anyone to slip through his fingers.

His success made him overconfident, convinced everything was under his control.

He thought he was untouchable. He was wrong.

He hadn’t even told the hospital to update him if anything happened with my mom—so he had no idea she was gone.

He’d gotten lazy. Assumed I’d always be in his orbit.

To him, I was just a bug in his hand—something to toy with at will.

He never dreamed I could escape his grasp.

He underestimated me. They all did.

"I want a divorce." I said it bluntly.

"Your mom’s just in a coma, and you’re giving up already?" Carter frowned, then seemed to realize something. He looked at me. "You won the lottery, didn’t you?"

He leaned forward, eyes narrowed. He was putting the pieces together.

No wonder he was Carter Whitaker—he even guessed that.

He was always quick on the uptake.

But how did he know I was buying tickets?

Had he been watching me more closely than I realized?

"Correct." I crossed my legs on the sofa, relaxed. "Bring out all the IOUs I wrote. Let’s settle the accounts."

I let my words hang in the air, daring him to refuse.

Every month, after the Whitaker family paid the hospital, Carter’s assistant would send me the bill and have me write an IOU. I remembered every cent.

I’d kept a spreadsheet, just in case.

"You’re serious?" Carter’s voice was low, a hint of displeasure.

He looked at me like I was a stranger, someone he couldn’t control.

I nearly laughed. "You’re the one who made me write them—every single one, even for a dollar. Forgetful, Mr. Whitaker?"

I let my sarcasm show, just a little.

Carter’s face darkened. After a moment, he said, "No divorce."

He crossed his arms, jaw set. He wasn’t used to being told no.

"Why not?" I raised my voice.

I wasn’t backing down. Not this time.

Why should I stay trapped here when I finally had a way out?

I deserved better, and I knew it.

Carter’s eyes flashed with anger—and something else I couldn’t read.

There was a flicker of something softer, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

"You can’t divorce. Not until Savannah and Ben are together."

He said it like it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

I sneered. "So Savannah really is useless—still hasn’t caught him. Good thing Ben has enough sense to see past her fake innocence and spot her rotten soul."

My words were sharp, but I meant every one.

"Don’t push it." Carter’s face turned cold.

He clenched his fists, barely holding back his temper.

"Carter, divorce her!" Mrs. Whitaker burst in, furious. "She thinks she’s all that just because she won the lottery? Let’s see how she fares without us!"

She stormed into the room, hair wild, eyes blazing. She looked ready to explode.

"Mom, we can’t divorce." Carter’s tone was steady and firm.

He didn’t even look at her, eyes fixed on me.

"But just seeing her gives me heart palpitations!" Mrs. Whitaker clutched her chest.

She staggered dramatically, as if she might faint. Gloria hovered nearby, ready to catch her.

"Have you forgotten Savannah’s temper? She’s been spoiled since birth—her personality’s extreme. If she and Ben get back together and she does something stupid, what then?" Carter explained patiently.

He sounded almost reasonable, as if he were talking about the weather.

"That’s right—my Savannah, my precious girl! Last time she nearly jumped off a building—scared me to death. She can’t have anything happen to her." Mrs. Whitaker’s hand trembled, clearly still shaken.

Her voice broke, and for a moment, she looked genuinely afraid.

"Are you forgetting something?" I reminded them loudly. "Divorce isn’t just up to you—I can file a lawsuit too!"

I let my words ring out, making sure they knew I wasn’t powerless anymore.

"Go ahead," Carter shot me a look.

His expression was smug, as if he’d already won.

Clearly, he was planning to drag things out.

He was a master at playing the long game. Too bad I wasn’t playing anymore.

Filing for divorce would take at least a year or more.

He was counting on me giving up before then.

Anyway, Carter was dead set on not divorcing now.

He’d made up his mind, and nothing I said would change it.

"I just don’t get it—what’s the point of keeping this marriage?" I stood up. "We signed a prenup—I won’t take a cent from your family. What are you so worried about?"

I stared him down, daring him to answer.

Carter hesitated, glancing at me with an unreadable expression, then turned and left.

He walked out without another word, leaving me standing alone in the living room.

After that, I couldn’t even find him to discuss divorce—he stopped coming home and wouldn’t answer my calls.

I left voicemail after voicemail, but he never responded.

I tried going to his company, but the front desk always said he wasn’t there.

I waited in the lobby for hours, but he never showed.

I never knew the mighty Mr. Whitaker could be so good at running away.

For a man who ran a billion-dollar company, he sure knew how to hide.

Fine. If that’s how it is, I’ll just follow the legal process.

I wasn’t afraid of a fight anymore.