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Chapter 2
Once I was sure Xavier had left with Sophie, I took the divorce papers and headed to Ford Enterprises Tower.
“Ma’am, Mr. Ford is in a meeting. Please wait here,” the receptionist said politely, stepping in front of me.
A meeting? That was strange–because I could clearly hear Xavier’s voice.
The blinds weren’t fully closed, and through the narrow gap, I saw the man who wouldn’t even blink with a knife in his
chest kneeling down on one knee, carefully using tweezers to remove a splinter from Sophie’s palm.
Sophie was sitting in his leather executive chair, her white dress stained with dust, her feet dangling in worn–out canvas
sneakers, swinging slightly in the air.
And Xavier–the same man who once had a traitor’s fingers crushed one by one–was frowning as if that tiny splinter hurt
more than a bullet wound.
I used to be afraid of pain too.
But on our wedding night, when I accidentally cut my hand on a shard of glass, he’d looked at me with disgust and said,
“Handle it yourself. I don’t want blood anywhere near me.”
After that, I didn’t even dare use a Band–Aid.
“Ma’am…” the receptionist said awkwardly behind me.
I forced a smile. “No rush. Just let him know I’ve got something that needs his signature.”
She took the divorce agreement and, quite sensibly, slipped it beneath a tall stack of pending contracts.
I thought Xavier might at least hesitate when he saw it.
But he didn’t even glance at the cover.
He flipped straight to the last page and signed his name.
When I took the file back, my hand was shaking so hard I could barely hold the paper.
I’d been promised to Xavier Ford since I w
