Too Late, Mr. CEO: I Am Unstoppable

Eleonora slid open the massive glass doors of the walk-in closet. She stared blankly at the endless rows of haute couture.

She reached past the silk gowns and sequined dresses. She pulled out three basic, tailored business suits she had bought before the wedding, and a few soft cashmere sweaters.

The expensive evening gowns Jaret had purchased to parade her around at charity galas were shoved violently to the dark corner of the rack.

She folded her simple clothes with rapid, precise movements, dropping them into the silver suitcases.

She walked over to the vanity. She yanked the drawer open and grabbed her passport, her birth certificate, and her personal legal files.

Her eyes drifted to the velvet jewelry box sitting on the glass counter. It was stuffed with millions of dollars in diamonds and emeralds.

Her heart didn't skip a single beat. She didn't touch the diamonds. She only reached in and pulled out a cheap, tarnished silver necklace her grandmother had left her.

With the bags packed, Eleonora dragged the three heavy suitcases out to the living room, parking them next to the massive oak desk.

She reached into her leather tote bag and pulled out a thick stack of papers. It was an uncontested divorce agreement, drafted weeks ago.

She uncapped her fountain pen. She flipped to the last page and signed her name with sharp, aggressive strokes.

The scratching of the metal nib against the thick paper echoed loudly in the dead silence of the penthouse.

She dropped the pen. She lifted her left hand and stared at the three-carat diamond ring suffocating her ring finger.

She pinched the platinum band. She pulled hard. The ring slid over her knuckle, leaving a pale, indented physical scar on her skin.

She placed the heavy diamond dead center on top of her signature.

Eleonora grabbed the handles of her suitcases. She walked into the elevator without looking back once.

Downstairs, the doorman loaded her bags into the trunk of a yellow cab.

"The Plaza Hotel, please," Eleonora told the driver.

The cab merged into the chaotic Manhattan traffic. Eleonora stared out the window at the sun hitting the trees in Central Park. She dragged a deep, full breath into her lungs for the first time in years.

The cab pulled up to the iconic hotel. She used her own depleted savings account to book a luxury suite overlooking the park.

The bellhop brought her bags up. Eleonora handed him a twenty-dollar bill and locked the heavy door behind him.

She kicked off her heels. She walked barefoot across the plush carpet and let her body collapse into the deep leather sofa.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. Brittany Marsh's name flashed on the screen.

Eleonora hit accept. Brittany's voice exploded through the speaker, cursing Jaret with every dirty word in the English language.

Eleonora let out a soft, genuine laugh. "I'm at the Plaza, Brittany. I just signed the papers."

There was a half-second of dead silence on the line. Then, Brittany screamed in pure joy.

"I'm coming over right now. Give me twenty minutes," Brittany yelled, and the line went dead.

Eleonora stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the vibrant city below.

Exactly eighteen minutes later, the suite doorbell chimed.

Eleonora pulled the door open. Brittany stood there in a chic trench coat, holding a freezing cold bottle of Dom Pérignon by the neck.

Brittany lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Eleonora in a bone-crushing hug. "Happy single life, you beautiful genius!"