Prepare the Divorce and Ruin My Husband

When I saw Ryle’s face up close, I froze.

He was shaking. Not crying. Not yelling. Just small and quiet, like fear had already hollowed him out.

He was only eight.

Eight fucking years old!

How could a child look like this?

As he kept bowing, his sleeves slid up. I finally saw it. Dark bruises layered over old ones. Thin scars crossing his arms. When he tilted his head, my stomach dropped.

Marks.

Clear marks around his neck. Like a leash.

I rushed forward and grabbed his shoulders. “Ryle, baby, get up. You do not have to kneel! Mama is here.”

The second my hands touched him, he panicked. He slapped himself. Hard. Again and again.

“I was wrong!” he cried, voice fast and flat like he had memorized it. “I deserve punishment. I will go to the cold storage now. Three hours. I will not cry. I promise.”

I felt my soul crack.

Slowly, I lifted my head and looked at David.

I did not say a word.

I demanded an answer with my eyes.

Before he could open his mouth, Roxanne rushed in and pulled Ryle into her arms, hugging him tight like a saint in a painting.

“You misunderstood everything, sister,” she said softly. “Ryle and I play house all the time. Sometimes I am the servant. Sometimes he is. Today was just his turn. He is very imaginative.”

I stared at her.

Then I lifted my hand and pointed at my son’s neck. My finger would not stop shaking.

“This!” I said hoarsely. “This is not imagination. These are marks! These are injuries. You call this a game? Is this how you treat my son?”

Roxanne’s eyes filled with tears.

David’s face darkened. He shoved me back hard enough that I stumbled.

“That's enough!” he snapped. “Do you enjoy humiliating people in public this much? You always loved making scenes! Roxanne is nothing like you. She has no schemes, no poison in her heart.” He pointed at Ryle like he was an object.

“That is just paint. The kids were drawing. It did not wash off yet. You disappeared for a year and failed as a mother! Roxanne stepped in out of kindness. And this is how you repay her? With accusations and ingratitude?”

I laughed. It came out broken.

Paint?

Ryle looked up at Roxanne.

His eyes were pure terror. Not love. Not comfort. Fear. The kind that lives deep and never leaves.

I looked back at David, tears finally spilling.

“Are you blind?” I whispered. “Look at him! Really look. He's terrified of her. He's terrified of you. How can you stand there and say this is a game? How can you be this stupid?!”

David hesitated.

For just a second. His eyes lingered on Ryle. Doubt flickered and Roxanne saw it.

She suddenly sobbed out loud.

“I only wanted to belong,” she cried. “I thought if I treated Ryle well, if I played the role properly, I could be part of this family. But I was dreaming. I will never belong. People will always see me as an nothing. Forget it. Forget the wedding. I am a joke.”

She ripped the veil off her head, shoved it into David’s chest, and ran toward the bedroom, covering her face.

The room exploded.

Everyone shouted at once.

“She fuvking ruined it!”

“What a cursed woman.”

“She brings bad luck wherever she goes.”

David watched Roxanne disappear, his face dark and furious. Then he turned on me.

“Are you proud of yourself?” he barked. “The wedding was just a formality. It means nothing. You could have let it pass. But no, you had to make a show.”

He sneered at Ryle.

“And your son,” he added coldly. “The child you raised yourself. Crying and kneeling like he was abused. Very convincing. He is quite the actor for eight. If he ever wins an award, he should thank you.”

Then he walked away to chase Roxanne.

My parents did not say a word in my defense.

My mother slapped my face and my father shoved me hard to the floor.

“All your fault! Don't you know your sister was now ptegnant with twins?!"

“You could not even keep your husband.”

“Shameless woman.”

I did not explain.

I was too tired.

I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms around Ryle, pulling him into my chest. My scars pressed against his small body. We were both shaking.

“It's okay,” I whispered over and over. “Don't be afraid. Mama is here... I am taking you away. No one will ever hurt you again. I swear it.”

Tears soaked his hair.

Right there, I took out my phone.

I texted my lawyer. One line.

Prepare the divorce.

Then I dialed the number of the man who pulled me out of hell. Colt Blackwood.

When he answered, I said quietly, “I... I need a favor.”

I looked around at the Vanderbilt mansion. At the mafia empire built on blood and lies.

“I will destroy the Vanderbilt Group just like you wanted. This time I won't stop you,” I said. “In return, I want me and my son safe.”

And for the first time since my captivity, I meant every word.