Sorry Comes After Death

I clenched my fists, trying to stay calm. "She's not coming back."

Pedro chuckled, but his eyes were icy. "Oh yeah? She shacks up with some sugar daddy and decides she's too good for my family?"

So even now, that's all she was to him—disposable.

I let out a bitter laugh. All those years she loved him, totally wasted.

"If you thought so little of her, why didn't you just divorce her? Would've saved you both the trouble."

He scoffed. "So she DID find someone. Come on, who is he?"

Right then, he looked feral—eyes gleaming, ready to tear someone apart.

I turned and bolted up the stairs. I didn't come back to fight. I needed answers.

Vivian wouldn't have jumped. She hated death. She's scared of it.

But before I hit the second floor, Pedro grabbed me and slammed me into the wall.

His breath was hot, right in my face.

"Reena Rayne, tell me—who's she with? Say it!"

The fake smile Pedro was wearing gone. This one was wild.

And honestly? Seeing him snap like that... felt weirdly satisfying.

If he figured out too late that she was actually gone—would he lose it completely?

"What are you laughing at? Being my sister-in-law doesn't mean I won't lay a finger on you. Ask Marco if he cares. Now quit playing and tell me—where is she?"

I laughed, tears blurring my vision.

"She's dead. Jumped from thirty stories last night. Her body's wrecked, soaked in blood. Don't believe me? Go see for yourself. You're good at digging up dirt, right?"

His grip on my collar tightened. I didn't budge. Just stared him down.

His rage clashed with my stillness like fire against ice.

Then—Marco. His hand landed on Pedro's.

"That's enough. If you really wanna know, go find out. Don't take it out on her."

Pedro's hands dropped. He backed up, dark eyes locked on me—then that fake smile crept back in.

"Fine. I'll check. But Reena, if this is a setup... I won't touch you. But Vivian? She's done."

I just gave him a faint, bitter smile and watched him storm out the door.

"Done staring?" Marco's voice sliced through.

I didn't answer. Just walked past him, heading for Vivian's room.

Didn't get far.

He grabbed my arm, yanking me back fast. I stumbled, barely keeping up.

"Let go. Let me go."

"You vanish all night, come back looking like a wreck, and say Vivian's dead? You've lost it."

He shoved open a door and flung me onto the bed like I was nothing.

Then he loomed over me, fingers clamping around my chin, forcing my gaze up.

He smirked. "Have I been too soft on you? Didn't I tell you to stay away from her?"

Marco never liked Vivian. Everyone knew that.

After her family crashed three years ago, she ditched school, threw herself into every social circle she could—just to lock down an investor.

Marco thought she was flirtatious. Never saw her as more than a girl who sold herself to survive.

Even after she married Pedro, nothing changed.

In Marco's words? "All she did was go from serving many to serving one."

To Vivian, marrying Pedro was like diving straight into fire.

She thought she'd found a prince—turned out, he wore horns under that crown.

I stared at Marco. Same face, but the guy I knew? Gone.

"Marco, I want a divorce."

Five years together. Three married. I used to picture forever with him.

Then Niama came crawling back six months ago. My hope? Dead.

I was done. I wanted out. No more strings.

He froze, jaw tight, eyes flickering. "What?"

"I said I want a DIVORCE."