Divorce Me Before Death Takes Me, CEO

Chapter 2: Three Years Is Enough

Audrey's POV

Something soft brushed against my cheek. Snow. My vision slowly cleared as my cat's concerned blue eyes came

into focus. My bathroom floor was cold beneath me, and the metallic taste in my mouth toldeverything |

needed to know about how long I'd been unconscious.

Through the window, | could see the afternoon sun shine on- | must have been out for over an hour since

returning from Mayo Clinic. Snow meowed softly, headbutting my hand. I tried to push myself up, but my arms

gave way, sendingback onto the cold tiles.

The sharp click of leather shoes interrupted my second attempt to stand. Then his voice, cold and cutting:

“Stop playing victim here, Audrey Sinclair.”

| didn’t need to look up to know Blake was standing in my bathroom doorway, radiating that particular brand of

contempt he reserved just for me.

| watched as Blake gracefully settled himself on the sofa, leaning back with studied casualness as his eyes fixed

on my pale face. “Laurel's career in the States is just taking off. If news of her visit to the obstetrics department

gets out...”

“How is that my problem?” The bitter laugh that escapedsurprised even myself. My lips curved into a

mocking smile. “As your legal wife who just lost our child, | have to maintain appearances for your Hollywood

mistress?”

So that’s why he’d bothered to chere, leaving his precious Laurel behind. He was worried | might expose her

hospital visit and damage her pristine image.

“Watch your mouth.” His voice turned to ice at my use of the word ‘mistress’. “What nonsense are you

spouting?”

| stared directly at him, enunciating each word with deliberate clarity. “I'm saying if Laurel's so concerned about

her image, maybe she shouldn't be playing mistress, shouldn't be getting gynecological problems, and shouldn't

be visiting Mayo Clinic's obstetrics department.”

Blake's eyes narrowed dangerously, his fury dropping the room temperature several degrees. “When you

married me, you knew Laurel was always in my heart. Yet you still used my coma to manipulate Grandfather into

arranging our marriage.”

“How dare you call her a mistress?” he spat. “What right do you have?”

A bitter smile touched my lips. “You're right. | was wrong back then.”

| met his gaze steadily. “Then let’s make it the last line | cross. Let's get divorced.”

Something flickered in his eyes - surprise? Uncertainty? But his voice remained cold. “What gare you

playing this time, Audrey?”

| shook my head slowly. “No more games. I'm just... tired.”

“First you terminate the pregnancy, then you ask for divorce.” His lips curled into a sneer. “What's next? Running

to my Grandfather again with your complaints?”

“I've never complained to him about you.” The words cout stronger than | expected. “Never have, never

will.”

“Really?” His tone showed his disbelief. “Then why does he always take your side?”

Because your grandfather, unlike you, sawfor who | was? Because he was the only one in your family who

treatedlike a person rather than an inconvenience? But | said none of that. Instead, | just smiled, feeling a

strange sort of peace settle over me.

“Three years is enough, don’t you think?”

Before he could respond, his phone buzzed. The transformation was immediate - his entire demeanor changed

as he checked the screen.

“She’s not feeling well,” he muttered, already turning away.

“Of course she isn't.” The words slipped out before | could stop them.

He whirled back, eyes flashing. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” | watched as he snatched up the divorce papers I'd left on the coffee table. “The papers are ready.

Just sign them.”

“We'll discuss this later.” He was already striding toward the door.

“There's nothing to discuss.” But he was gone, the door slamming behind him.

Snow jumped onto my lap as | sank onto the sofa, the divorce papers scattered where Blake had dropped them.

My hand trembled slightly as | picked up a pen. Someone had to take the first step. Someone had to end this.

| signed my name, each stroke a goodbye to five years of one-sided love. Then | reached for my phone and

dialed a familiar number.

“Astrid? | need your help.”

“My dear, do you have any idea what tit is in LA?” Her playful tone cthrough the phone, but quickly

shifted when she heard my voice. “What's wrong?”

“I signed the divorce papers.”

The line went quiet for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was gentle. “Cstay at my place tonight.

You shouldn't be alone.”

“Astrid...”

“No arguments.” Her tone was soft but firm. “Just cover.”

I glanced at Snow, who was still curled up against me. “Can | bring Snow?”

“Of course. You know my place is always open for both of you.”

“Thanks, Astrid.”

| ended the call and started packing an overnight bag. Maybe she was right - | didn’t have to face this alone.

Blake's POV

One Week Later, Los Angeles

The Four Seasons Los Angeles ballroom buzzed with the elite of the jewelry industry beneath me. From my

vantage point on the second floor VIP section, their excited chatter melted into white noise as | closed my eyes,

letting Michael Chen continue his financial report.

“Third quarter projections show a 15% increase in...” Michael's voice trailed off.

“Why did you stop?” | kept my eyes closed, my tone dropping several degrees.

“I apologize, Mr. Parker.” Michael snapped back as he continued. “The third quarter projections...”

His voice faded into the background again as | pulled out my phone, opening my chat history with Audrey. Her

last message was from a week ago: Try to drink less coffee at work today.

| stared at those words, remembering how she used to flood my inbox with messages every day. Always nagging

like a grandmother - checking if I'd eaten, remindingabout meetings, sending photos of that spoiled cat

Snow. A dozen messages a day, at least, each one filled with her unnecessary concern.

Now? A week of silence. Not even an explanation about why she'd terminated the pregnancy without consulting

me.

“Any news from her?” The question slipped out before | could stop it.

Michael's report stopped again. “Mrs. Rebecca called this morning. She said Mrs. Parker is still resting at home,

everything's fine.”

“Heartless woman.” | instinctively commented.

The cynical part ofwondered if this was another one of her manipulation tactics. First the pregnancy

termination without consulting me, then the divorce papers, and now this tic disappearing act. Classic

Audrey Sinclair moves, weren't they?

But were they?

An unwelcvoice in my head remindedthat in five years, she'd never actually played games like this. Her

love had always been... No. Don’t go there, Parker.

“Mr. Parker?” Michael's tentative voice interrupted my thoughts. “Should | continue with the report?”

| waved my hand dismissively, standing to stretch my legs. The VIP section overlooked the main ballroom, giving

a perfect view of the dance floor where couples were beginning to gather for the evening’s entertainment.

“Mr. Parker...” Michael let a sigh, pointing at the dance floor. “That woman... is that Mrs. Parker?”

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