THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.

Cora's laughter rang through the room like a crack of thunder—loud, unexpected, unsettling.

Immediately James and Emily stood frozen.

They exchanged glances, confused. Her laughter didn't sound broken or hysterical, just like they thought.

It sounded amused. Confident. Dangerous.

When Cora finally stopped, she wiped a single tear from the corner of her eye—not from pain, but from the absurdity of it all.

"Fame?" she echoed, her lips twitching. "Money? You said I wouldn't understand those things?"

She tilted her head, eyes burning into James like lasers.

"James… who do you think has been helping you all this while? Who do you think was behind your success?"

James' brows furrowed. He stayed quiet.

Cora rolled forward slightly in her chair, her tone growing colder. "Do you really think you—you—were capable enough to climb so high on your own?"

James hesitated. His jaw tensed.

Truthfully, some of the contracts and partnerships he got had come out of nowhere. He never questioned it much. He just thought he got lucky. He believed people were finally recognizing his talent.

He cleared his throat and tried to stand tall. "I… I did the work," he said stiffly. "I showed up. I impressed the right people. They saw how brilliant I was. That's how I became popular."

Emily, sensing the slight crack in his voice, quickly stepped in.

She gave Cora a smug smile. "James is one of the most intelligent men I know. Even some of the top players in the business world want to emulate him."

Emily folded her arms with a confident smirk, her eyes gleaming with pride.

"Tonight," she said, turning slightly toward James, "you've been invited to the Global Rising Star Entrepreneur event. Hosted by the Victors."

At that moment James blinked.

Even Cora's expression shifted slightly at that name.

"The Victors?" she repeated quietly.

Emily nodded, savoring the moment.

"One of the top five most influential families in South Caden. And they chose you. That alone speaks volumes, James."

She stepped closer to him, resting her hand lightly on his arm.

"And that's not even the best part," she added. "We've already received inside reports—you're not just attending, James. You're winning."

James' chest rose with pride. His mouth parted in disbelief, then twisted into a triumphant grin.

"They chose me?" he muttered.

Emily nodded again. "Only a man with real brilliance could pull off something like that. You deserve it, James."

The words hit him like a shot of champagne. He raised his shoulders, lifted his chin, and turned to Cora with a smug look.

"You heard her, didn't you?" he said, voice rich with arrogance. "This is exactly why I've been thinking of divorcing you."

He gestured toward himself, as though his very presence demanded acknowledgment.

"Look at the level I'm at now. I need a woman who can match this. Someone smart. Someone who belongs in the spotlight beside me." He shook his head. "You were never cut out for that job, Cora. Not even close."

At that moment James scoffed and waved a dismissive hand, his voice loud and full of contempt.

"You're dumb, Cora. You don't even understand the basics of the business world," he snapped. "All you do is eat, sleep, go to therapy, and repeat that same process again, and again. You've never lifted a finger for any of this."

He took a step forward, his tone growing more cutting. "You're completely cut off from the kind of life I live now. You're not a wife—you're just… dead weight."

For a moment, the room went still.

Then Cora slowly looked up at him—and smiled.

Not a soft smile. Not a broken one.

A cold, quiet, knowing smile that made the room suddenly feel colder.

"I should've known," she said softly, her voice calm but laced with venom. "A wild animal taken in as a pet… will still count all the free meals given to him as his kill."

Upon hearing what Cora just said, James' eyes flared. His expression twisted into instant anger.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he barked.

Cora's smile faded, but her gaze never wavered. "It means," she said, her voice firm, "I would like to sign the divorce papers. Now."

She rolled her wheelchair forward a few inches, posture upright with quiet dignity.

"There's no way I'm leaving this house without the divorce papers."

Immediately James raised a brow, momentarily thrown by how calm Cora was. But then a smirk slid across his face.

She was angry. That was all.

And anger made people stupid.

Perfect.

If he played this right, she'd sign exactly what he needed—and walk away with only one million dollars, leaving the rest of his growing empire untouched.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and dialed.

"Bring the papers," he said to his lawyer. "Right now. She's ready to sign."

He ended the call and looked at Cora with a fake smile. "You're making the right choice," he said, voice smooth and patronizing. "There's no need for drama. Let's be honest—no rich man wants a cripple for a wife. That's just… barbaric."

His words hung in the air like poison.

However Cora didn't blink.

Fifteen minutes later, the front door opened and in walked his lawyer, briefcase in hand, suit sharp and smug like he'd done this too many times before.

Emily beamed as she watched from the corner of the room, arms folded and posture elegant. Her eyes stayed on Cora, soaking in every second like she was watching a comedy.

So dumb, she thought, Cora was letting her anger control her. She had no clue how divorce worked. No strategy. No class. No education.

If Emily were in Cora's position, she would've clawed for a larger share—maybe half of James' properties. But here Cora was, throwing it all away over emotions.

A complete fool, Still, Emily wasn't complaining.

She was just a signature away from becoming the new Miss of the Lorenzo family.

James Lorenzo's wife.

The lawyer adjusted his tie, his tone polite but rehearsed—as if this was just another transaction.

He handed Cora the file and sat opposite her with a smile too smooth to be trusted.

"As stated, Mrs. Lorenzo," he began, "once you sign this document, you'll receive one million dollars wired to your account immediately. However—" he glanced at his watch dramatically "—if this isn't signed before today ends, the offer drops to five hundred thousand."

He folded his hands neatly and looked at her like he'd just offered gold to a beggar.

James leaned back in his seat, legs crossed, proud of how neatly everything was going. Emily sat beside him, already imagining what dress she'd wear to the Victors' event tonight as his woman.

They were all trying to play her. Pretend like they were being generous. Like they were doing her a favor.

And Cora knew, every smirk. Every little dig. Every silent celebration happening in their heads.

She calmly picked up the documents, her fingers steady.

She flipped through the pages without rushing, eyes scanning their little game—the trap they were so sure she'd walk right into.

Then, in a voice so clear it silenced the room, she said, "I don't want anything."