She got the divorce and bolted 5
Chapter 5
With his head lowered, Clayton had been reviewing documents when he heard the word “divorce”. The tip of his pen faltered, leaving a dark blot of ink spreading across the paper.
He slowly lifted his gaze to Sienna, as if checking whether he’d imagined it. “What did you say?”
“Already hard of hearing at such a young age?” Sienna asked, her voice rising several notches as she enunciated each word clearly. “Let’s get a divorce. Sign this agreement.”
Clayton leaned back in his chair casually, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Playing hard to get with me now? Where’d you learn that? Watched too many soap operas?”
“If you want to play mind games, you can play by yourself,” Sienna retorted.
She stepped forward, flipped to the last page of the divorce papers, and jabbed her finger at her own signature. “It just needs your signature now. Then we’ll find a time to file it.”
Clayton’s gaze swept over her bold signature before settling on the amount listed under asset division.
“50 million dollars?” He let out a low, mocking laugh. “Grabbing everything you can? I’ve never seen anyone this greedy.”
“Well, congratulations—now you have.”
Sienna slapped a second set of papers onto his desk. “Here, a discount. 30 million dollars.”
Clayton stared at her coldly, not saying a word.
She tossed out another one and asked tentatively, “20 million dollars?”
“Just how many copies did you prepare?” Clayton asked, a dark edge creeping between his brows.
Before the words had even fully landed, yet another agreement was chucked onto his desk.
“Ten million dollars,” Sienna said, her lips curving into a small smile. “Surely you’re not that stingy, right, Mr. Hale? If word got out that you refused to give your ex-wife even ten million dollars, it would really hurt your reputation. Once we’re divorced, I can’t guarantee what kind of stories I might tell.”
Unfazed, Clayton asked, “What about me is worth spreading stories about?”
“Oh, trust me, there’s plenty.”
She thought it over seriously for a moment, then started counting on her fingers. “You have a bad temper, love throwing your weight around, have a permanently grumpy expression, as if everyone owes you, your words are sharp and cutting, you’re emotionally unavailable, you lead women on all the time…
“Oh, and your skills in a certain department aren’t great either.”
After summing it up like this, Sienna felt impressed with herself for enduring him for the past three years. She might as well have been a saint.
“And now we can add one more,” she finished. “You’re a tightwad.”
After hearing her opinion of him, Clayton couldn’t take it anymore. He shot to his feet, his tall frame looming over her.
“Weren’t you the one who forced Grandpa to make me marry you? Now you’re the one regretting it?”
“Yes, I regret it,” Sienna admitted openly and frankly.
She’d been greedy back then. But this mistake would be corrected sooner or later, so there was no point in charging straight down a dead-end road. Now that she’d hit a wall, it was time to turn around.
She pulled out the final copy of the agreement from her bag, her expression calm. “I’ll leave empty-handed.”
In this marriage alliance of theirs, she’d always been the one who’d benefited more, so she didn’t have the confidence to argue for an even split of the assets. The previous four copies had just been a gamble to see whether Clayton would be merciful enough to give her something.
The result was obvious—he really was a cheapskate.
Clayton froze for a second, staring at the divorce agreement that demanded nothing. He then asked in a flat voice, “And the reason for wanting a divorce?”
“I’m tired of you. I’d like a new model.”
No longer bothered, Sienna stopped holding back. “I want someone with a good temper, no ego, gentle and kind, emotionally supportive, faithful, and skilled in a certain department. You? You’re last year’s news.”
Something she said clearly poked at his manly pride, because the next second, Clayton grabbed all five copies of the divorce agreements from his desk and hurled them at her. Paper scattered in a flurry, several sheets grazing her cheek, leaving a sharp sting.
“What right do you have to ask me for a divorce? Get out!”
His roar left Sienna’s ears ringing. She’d wanted to say more, but seeing the stormy look on his face, she wisely chose to leave.
What if he decided to start hitting her?
Sienna started for the door, still mumbling under her breath, “Why are his anger issues suddenly flaring up? Or did I hurt his pride by asking for a divorce?”
Either way, it couldn’t possibly be because he was reluctant to part with her.
Rowan sidled over, having heard the commotion. Carefully, he asked, “Mrs. Hale, what happened?”
“I asked him for a divorce,” Sienna replied, sliding her sunglasses back on and heading toward the elevator.
“Did you feed him explosives for lunch or something? He’s in such a bad temper, and he even yelled for me to get out—so I very smoothly went right out.”
Rowan blinked at her. He silently drew a cross over his chest, thinking that today was probably going to be a very difficult day.
The elevator chimed open. Sienna strode out in her high heels, only to run straight into a familiar figure.
Seven years had passed, and the once plainly dressed girl now wore an exquisitely tailored camel-colored cashmere dress, her long hair cascading like a waterfall over her shoulders.
Her face was still innocent and lovely, but her eyes and brows now carried a touch more allure.
The same receptionist who’d been respectful to Sienna earlier was now eagerly showing Melody the way. “Ms. Foster, Mr. Hale is waiting for you upstairs. Please take the elevator this way.”
Behind her sunglasses, Sienna’s brow arched slightly. She walked straight past them without even sparing the woman a glance.
“Sienna?” Melody suddenly called out, her voice soft and gentle. “It really is you. I almost didn’t recognize you with the sunglasses on.”
Sienna stopped and glanced back at her coolly. “I don’t think we know each other well enough to exchange pleasantries. Or are you just an extreme extrovert, greeting everyone you see, Ms. Foster?”
But Melody acted like she hadn’t understood the sarcasm at all and put on a show of concern. “Can you just casually come here like this? Isn’t it a little inappropriate?”
Sienna took off her sunglasses and flashed a bright smile. “What? The actual wife can’t come, but the mistress can?”
Sensing trouble, the receptionist quickly slipped away.
Melody’s eyes reddened, her expression wounded. “How am I the mistress? I was clearly the one who was with Clay first back then. If it weren’t because—”
“So what?” Sienna interrupted impatiently. “Are you planning to keep telling that story until you’re on your deathbed? Or are you going to have it engraved on your tombstone, too? Just because you weren’t the mistress back then doesn’t mean you can’t be one now.”
Melody bit her lip, suddenly stepping closer and lowering her voice. “Sienna Winger, the one who isn’t loved is the real mistress.”
A glint of triumph flashed through her eyes. “Clay doesn’t love you at all. Forced things never turn out sweet.”
“Whether it’s sweet or not, how is one supposed to know without giving it a try?” Sienna asked, before pausing and deliberately dragging out her words. “Oh… And Clayton really isn’t that sweet at all. I’ve already decided to throw him away. If you want him, feel free to dig him out of the trash can.”
She turned to leave, but Melody grabbed her hand and shoved two theater tickets into her palm.
“I just signed with the Brightford Theater Company. There’ll be a play, and you’re specifically invited to come watch.”
Her red lips curved slightly as she added, “Clay will be there too. After all, it will be my debut here in Eldavia, and he cares a lot about it.”
Then, without even caring whether Sienna would take the tickets or not, Melody turned and stepped into the elevator.
Sienna looked down at the gold-embossed title on the tickets—”The White Swan”—and let out a laugh. She casually crumpled them into a ball and, just before the elevator doors slid shut, lobbed them with perfect aim straight at Melody’s head.
“Ah!” Melody cried out, clutching her forehead in shock, clearly not expecting it.
Sienna brushed her hands off in disgust. “People these days really have no manners. Going around throwing trash everywhere? No concern for the environment at all.”
Just before the elevator doors fully closed, she finally saw a tiny crack appear in Melody’s perfectly composed mask.
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