Chapter 56 Touch Me Like You Hate Me (5)

Chapter 56 Touch Me Like You Hate Me (5)
“I’m here on behalf of my client,” Blackwood muttered, his tone flat and unreadable. He unclipped his leather briefcase, reached inside, and pulled out a thick, heavy manila envelope.
“Client?” I echoed, forcing a hollow laugh. I shrugged, trying to project a clueless, unbothered front. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Your wife, Mrs. Sterling,” Blackwood responded smoothly. He took two steps forward and dropped the heavy envelope onto the center of my mahogany desk. It landed with a definitive, suffocating thud. “Here it is. You’ve been officially served.”
I swallowed the dry lump in my throat, my hand shaking slightly as I reached out to collect it. This is a joke. If Mira actually thinks she’s walking away with half my company and out of my life with a few signatures, she has lost her goddamn mind. Hell no.
“I’ll be on my way now,” Blackwood said, not waiting for a response as he turned toward the door.
“Thank... thank you,” I managed to choke out.
The absolute second the heavy office doors clicked shut behind Mr. Blackwood, I completely lost it.
“Shit!” I snapped, violently ripping at my tie and tearing the top button off my collar. A cold, suffocating sweat broke out across my forehead, my chest heaving as the walls of my office felt like they were closing in.
“What the heck is going on, Mason?” Sandra asked, stepping closer, her eyes darting between the envelope and my frantic expression.
“How dare she do this to me?” I groaned, slamming my fist onto the desk. “How could she even think about divorcing me? After everything I’ve built for her?”
I heard Sandra catch her breath, a sudden, twisted gleam appearing in her eyes. “You mean... Mira is finally divorcing you?”
“What the fuck do you mean by finally?” I hissed, spinning around to glare at her.
“Mason, darling,” Sandra purred, stepping right into my space and resting her manicured hand flat against my chest. “I finally see this day. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for her to get out of the picture.”
I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw throbbed. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you get it?” she said, a breathless smile spreading across her lips. “Now nobody can stop us from being together. I won’t be your dirty secret, and no one will ever dare label me as a mistress again. If you sign those papers, we can finally be together out in the open. I can take my rightful place.”
“Shut your fucking mouth!” I roared directly in her face, violently shoving her hand off my chest. “You think you can replace Mira? You?”
“M-Mason... what do you mean?” she stammered, stepping back in shock.
I lunged forward, grabbing her wrist and twisting it tightly in my grip. “You can never replace Mira, Sandra! She is my wife. You are nothing compared to her.”
“But you told me you loved me!” she cried out, her eyes welling with tears. “You said she meant nothing to you!”
“Love?” I scoffed, a cruel, ugly laugh ripping from my throat. “You’re nothing more than a lowly bitch to me. A high-end mistress without a title to keep my bed warm. If you actually thought for one second that you could ever fill my wife’s shoes, you’re a joke. Keep dreaming.”
I threw her wrist back, shoving her away from me with so much force that her heels slipped, and she fell hard onto the office floor. I watched with total detachment as tears spilled over her cheeks, running through her expensive makeup.
I might have whispered sweet nothings into her ear a thousand times while I was inside her, but it was all a lie. I didn’t love her. I loved my wife. Of course, I loved Mira. Everything I built was for us, and I couldn’t lose her.
“Get out,” I muttered, turning my back on her as I snatched my suit jacket off the chair. I threw it on, grabbed my keys, and stormed out of the office, leaving her sobbing on the floor.
“Where are you going? Mason!” Sandra’s hysterical screams echoed down the executive hallway, but I didn’t care. I needed to get home. I needed to fix this.
The drive back to the estate was a blur of pure adrenaline and panic. My mind raced with a million different scripts, trying to figure out exactly what I needed to say to convince my wife not to divorce me. I slammed my foot down on the accelerator, weaving through traffic recklessly, the engine roaring as I sped faster than I ever had before.
Within minutes, my tires screeched as I tore up the driveway. I didn’t even bother parking the car properly, leaving it idling in the front yard as I threw the driver’s door open and stormed into the house.
“Mira!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, my voice echoing off the high ceilings of the empty foyer. “Are you home? Mira!”
I took the stairs two at a time, sprinting straight toward our master bedroom. I threw the heavy double doors open, and the sight inside made my blood run entirely cold.
There she was. An open suitcase lay on the bed, and she was calmly folding her designer dresses into it.
“I guess you already received the papers,” she said, her voice eerily quiet. She didn’t even bother pausing what she was doing, keeping her back turned to me. “Have you signed them yet?”
“Mira.” I choked out her name, rushing across the room. I grabbed her by the upper arms, using my weight to force her around to face me. “What the hell is the problem? What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing is wrong, Mason,” she replied, her voice deadpan, completely devoid of any emotion. She looked down at my hands on her arms as if they were nothing but dirt. “Just sign those damn papers so we can be done with each other.”
“If you think I’m ever signing those papers, you are dead wrong,” I snarled, the panic turning my grip bruisingly tight. “You’re mine, Mira. You belong to me. You’re mine even in death.”
I expected her to cry. I expected her to flinch, to yell, to argue with me. Instead, I stood completely frozen as a soft, mocking laugh suddenly bubbled up from her chest.
She was laughing at me.
“You must be genuinely crazy, Mason,” she whispered softly, shaking her head. “If you still think for one single second that I belong to you.”
“What did you just say to me?” I hissed, my chest heaving.
“I said...” Mira paused, lifting her chin to look me dead in the eye.
I felt a sudden, violent jolt of terror in my stomach. The woman looking back at me wasn’t the quiet, submissive wife who had spent years turning a blind eye to my late nights. Her gaze was entirely arctic, looking through me as if I were a pathetic, disgusting stranger she had just found under her shoe.
“You’re fucking crazy, Mason.”
The cold, venomous confidence in her voice... it was entirely unlike her. What the hell had gotten into my wife? What the fuck had changed her?