For our Wedding Anniversary, I Gifted Him Divorce Papers

When Lavender saw Red’s message, a flicker of warmth returned to her heart.

She immediately replied: [Okay.]

‘Yeah, a month is too long,’ she agreed mentally. ‘One week will do.’

In just a week, she would leave for good—and finally put an end to everything with Desmond.

As soon as Lavender stepped into the villa, she saw Cyanne lounging on the couch in her nightgown.

Lavender’s nightgown.

The sound of the door opening made Cyanne glance up with a sneer. “Back already? You look like a mess.”

She stood up and slowly walked over, her fingers tilting Lavender’s chin.

“Tsk. Look at that face—pale as paper. Anyone would think you’re on your deathbed.”

She leaned closer, proudly displaying the marks on her chest. “See these hickeys? All courtesy of Mondy. Last night was… intense.”

The more she spoke, the bolder she became. She lowered her voice, leaning into Lavender’s ear in a mocking whisper.

“Last night, in your bed, he said he only feels like a real man with me. Said you lie there like a dead fish—completely boring.”

The moment the words left Cyanne’s lips, Lavender’s eyes darkened. She raised her hand and slapped her sister hard across the face.

“Cyanne, know your place. I’m still Desmond’s wife. You’re just the other woman.

“Push me too far and I’ll hold a press conference. Let the world know you’re nothing more than a maid’s daughter who stole her sister’s husband.”

Lavender had no intention of engaging with Cyanne, but the latter insisted on digging her own grave.

Just as Cyanne was about to lash out, she looked up and saw Desmond approaching. Her knees buckled, and she dropped to the floor.

“Avy, I’m sorry—I never should’ve come back! I’ll leave today! I’ll die if it means I’m no longer in your way.”

Before Lavender could even react, Cyanne suddenly sprang to her feet and ran straight toward a pillar.

Desmond rushed forward just in time to catch her.

“Yannie, I invited you here. If anyone has a problem with you, they have a problem with me!”

Lavender’s pale lips curled into a bitter smile.

Desmond, supporting Cyanne, turned and barked coldly, “Lavender, apologize to her!”

“I didn’t do anything wrong. I have nothing to apologize for. Desmond, aren’t you even curious where I was last night?”

“Did you—” he began, frowning.

She cut him off, “Aren’t you wondering—”

“I don’t care where you were last night,” he snapped. “But you don’t get to hurt Yannie! If you don’t apologize right now, you’ll be suspended from work—until you admit you were wrong!”

In his eyes, Lavender was a workaholic. He figured suspension would be the ultimate punishment.

What he didn’t know was that Lavender never loved the work. She worked harder only so Desmond could have it easier.

Seeing the despair in her eyes, Desmond’s chest tightened with guilt. But he still turned away, taking Cyanne with him.

Before leaving, he ordered the maid, “Don’t let her eat until she apologizes.”

Lavender stared at his retreating figure, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.

This was the man she had loved for seven years. After this… she wouldn’t love him anymore.

For days, Lavender was locked inside the villa.

Three times a day, the maid asked if she had realized her mistake.

Lavender never answered—just kept staring out the window.

She was counting down. In five more days, she would be gone for good.

Sitting on the balcony swing, her phone buzzed constantly.

All of it was from Cyanne.

On the day Lavender planned to leave, another message came in.

[Bitch, you couldn’t win over our moms, and you can’t win over a man. With just a word from me, Mondy won’t come home for a month.]

And she proved it.

For two full days, Desmond didn’t return.

But Cyanne sent videos every day.

Footage of her kissing Desmond on the beach.

Photos of him cooking for her.

Clips—vulgar, intimate, from every angle.

In the past, Lavender would’ve cried.

Now, she felt nothing.

A man that flirty was better off thrown away.

On the fourth day, she still hadn’t “admitted mistakes,” and the maid still withheld food. Lavender survived on water alone.

That evening, as usual, she walked into the garden.

Suddenly, a golden retriever dashed out and slammed into her.

Normally, a dog wouldn’t have that much strength—but she hadn’t eaten in days. Her body was as fragile as paper.

She fell to the ground, pain ripping through her belly.

Blood quickly soaked her pants. Her face went pale. She understood immediately.

Desmond’s mother had been urging them to have a child. Two months ago, during one of their few intimate moments, they hadn’t used protection.

Now, the searing pain in her belly drove her to her knees. Gritting her teeth, she begged the bodyguards for help.

The driver rushed her to the car in a panic, speeding toward the hospital.

But the roads ahead were closed.

“Ma’am,” the driver said nervously, “today’s Ma’am Cyanne’s birthday. Sir Desmond shut down the road for her party. We… We can’t get through.”

While her clothes were soaked in blood, fireworks lit up the sky.

All for Cyanne.

It was Desmond’s love on full display.

Lavender closed her eyes in despair.

With all the strength she had left, she ripped the wedding ring from her finger and flung it out the window.

Her husband and their marriage—she wanted none of it anymore.