Stripped Bare at My Own Divorce Party

Ever since my family went bankrupt, Mr. Sloan had been secretly scheming behind the scenes, trying every way to force me out of the family so he could set Lucy up with a more suitable match.

And now, I was finally giving him exactly what he wanted.

After hanging up the phone, I walked home alone through the rainy night. It took me three hours.

But the moment I stepped inside, I heard unmistakable moans drifting from the room. I froze mid-step and looked toward the open door.

Oscar was kneeling by the bed, servicing Lucy. The instant she saw me, Lucy yanked Oscar up from the floor and threw him onto the bed.

I wanted to leave, but my feet felt as heavy as lead—I couldn't lift them no matter how hard I tried. This was also the first time I saw with my own eyes just how debauched Lucy could be.

When it was over, Oscar climbed off the bed weakly and took the card Lucy handed him.

"Lucy, I freaking love you."

Lucy patted his cheek with casual intimacy. "If you're satisfied, then get going. Can't you see my husband's been standing at the door watching this whole time?"

Oscar shot me a look of pure provocation, then turned and planted one last lingering kiss on Lucy.

"Lucy, don't you forget about me now."

On his way out, he deliberately shouldered past me, knocking me to the ground.

I crumpled onto the floor, and the tears I'd been holding back spilled over uncontrollably.

Lucy walked up to me, tilting my chin up with one hand.

"Garrett, the pain you're feeling right now doesn't even come close to a fraction of what I went through. Do you have any idea how I felt when your mom handed me the divorce papers in the detention center?"

Tears streaked down my face. I opened my mouth, desperate to explain yet again.

"Lucy, I swear I didn't know anything about the divorce papers. It was my mom—"

Lucy cut me off sharply, "Enough with the innocent act! Your signature was right there on those papers!"

We'd had this same exchange countless times over the last three years. No matter how hard I tried to explain, she refused to believe me. And now, I no longer had the will to waste my breath.

I wiped the tears from my face. "Since you hate me so much, I'll just take my mom and leave."

Lucy dug her fingers into me and said through gritted teeth, "Garrett, don't you dare even think about leaving. You're going to stay by my side forever and atone for what you did!"

With that, she ordered someone to drag me upstairs and lock me in the attic.

This was her usual tactic. Whenever I brought up divorce or tried to leave, she'd have me locked in there to reflect and repent until I stopped mentioning leaving ever again.

But this time, she couldn't keep me caged anymore.

…

That night, the hospital suddenly called.

"Mr. Mueller, Ms. Sloan just gave the order to stop all of Ms. Schmidt's treatment. Given her condition, she may not make it through the night."

I immediately begged the hospital to resume Mom's treatment.

The nurse said hesitantly, "Ms. Sloan is a major shareholder of the hospital, and we also can't go against orders from the higher-ups."

I understood exactly what she meant. I hung up at once and called Lucy. The phone rang for a long time before she finally picked up.

"Lucy, please—you have to resume my mom's treatment," I begged frantically. "She's in a deep vegetative state and can't go a single moment without the ventilator."

Over the thumping bass of the music in the background, Lucy's low voice came through, "This is your punishment for wanting to leave."

"I'm sorry. I'll never mention leaving again, so I beg you to—"

A deep male voice drifted through from her end of the line. "Lucy, keep going. Don't stop."

The line went dead. When I called again, no one answered.

I grabbed whatever I could find in the attic and started smashing it against the lock. I didn't know how long I kept at it—only that by the time the lock finally rattled loose and I kicked the door open, both my hands were slick with blood.

The moment I was free, I ran toward the hospital like my life depended on it.

In the end, I was still too late. My mother had already closed her eyes forever.