My Husband Is Marrying Another Woman Without Divorcing Me

But youth was impatient. Penelope eventually came to me herself.

"Have you been looking for him lately? Let me save you the trouble—he's with me."

She was dressed in haute couture, her expression smug. "You thought getting rid of my child solved everything?"

She leaned closer, a smirk curling her lips. "As long as his love belongs to me, it doesn't matter how many children I lose. He'll only love me more because of it. In fact, he's been trying even harder lately. I should thank you, sister, for helping me."

Her plunging blouse revealed a flawless neck and the swell of her chest—marred by countless kiss marks, flaunting how completely Derek had adored her.

She pressed a hand to her still-flat belly, pride radiating from her. "Too bad. I'm pregnant again."

I calmly sipped my coffee as she made herself comfortable on my custom-made sofa, resting her chin in her hands.

"They say you've been married for three years and still haven't given him a child. The one time you did..." She chuckled.

"Ha! You couldn't even keep it. Sometimes, you really can't blame men."

The crisp clink of porcelain on wood echoed in the room, followed by her scream.

The bodyguards stared silently as Penelope writhed on the floor, clutching her stomach as blood pooled beneath her.

"Esther! You'll die for this!"

Her shrieks filled the air as the guards dragged her away.

"You're not afraid of Derek's revenge?"

My fingers tapped lightly against the marble tabletop. My voice was calm and steady. "You should know—becoming Mrs. Vazquez isn't about a man's love. That alone will never be enough."

That night, Derek came home—with dozens of men.

They filled an entire floor of the estate.

Unless he was facing a formidable rival, he never made such a show of force.

But this was the first time he had ever turned his blade on me.

We sat at opposite ends of the negotiation table, each backed by rows of men standing silently behind us.

"Twice now."

His slender fingers tapped lightly against the marble surface, the sound seemed sharp in the silence.

"Esther, you owe her an apology," he spat coldly.

I laughed sarcastically. "Anyone foolish enough to walk into a lion's den should be ready to face the consequences of her recklessness."

Half of Derek's face was swallowed in darkness; I couldn't read his expression.

"Does President Vazquez really think his wife is so submissive that when a mistress comes knocking, she'll simply do nothing?"

The lighter flared in the dark. I lit the slim cigarette between my lips, the smoke curling upward.

"Derek, you should remember—every bloody step you clawed your way up, I was right there bleeding with you. And now you want to set a pampered little canary against me? Is it you who has gone mad—or her?"

I slid the divorce papers across the table once more, blowing a slow ring of smoke.

"This is your last chance."

Moonlight spilled over the marble, but it revealed nothing of our faces.

We stared at each other through the shadows.

"From childhood, you were the one who killed the beast that was my father. You stormed into powerful households for me."

"And I... I lost a child for you. I bled myself dry for you. Derek, it's time we cut ties clean. No debts left between us. That's the best ending for us both."

"The best ending..." His low laugh echoed through the darkness.

He picked up the divorce agreement. With the flick of his lighter, the paper caught fire, curling into ash before my eyes.

"She won't appear in front of you again."

The ashes scattered into the air as he rose, leading his men out in a sweeping tide.