Chapter 185 Okay

Chapter 185 Okay
ANASTASIA POV

“Your husband killed himself because he was a coward. He knew the absolute horror of what he would face once Alexander discovered the truth. Your greed got you a contract with Jarule—taking innocent children and wiping their memories so he could traffic them across borders! You had everything you could ever want. Did you know how many people would kill to have a seat at the Brotherhood table at such a young age, back when Alexander’s grandfather first brought you and your husband into the inner circle?”

I shook my head, staring at her crumpled form. They didn't care about honor. Their pathetic thirst for power had destroyed them. I couldn't stay in this room for another second; the air felt toxic, and if I stayed, I was going to choke the life out of her myself.

“You won't be dying anytime soon, Mrs. Williams. That would be too easy. Unless, of course, my husband handles it... Well, my soon-to-be ex-husband. If he isn't my ex already. Because I can't even form an ounce of intimacy with him anymore, and he couldn't handle my damaged, chicken attitude. And I have you to thank for that.”
I flung my arms into the air bitterly, turning around to grab my bag off the bed.

Behind me, I heard the mechanical whine of the wheelchair. Using every ounce of her remaining, stroke-weakened strength, she rolled the chair forward until it hit my shins.
She reached up with a trembling, desperate hand and grabbed my wrist. Her skin felt deathly, terrifyingly cold against mine.

“I’m s—sorry f—or wha—t I did to you… Just kill me, please,” she begged, her face twisting into a mask of pure agony.

I looked down at her hand, wrapped my fingers around her wrist, and coldly shoved her arm off me.

“No,” I told her bluntly.

I turned my back on her and walked out, slamming the door on her muffled sobs.

When I finally pulled into the driveway of my parents' house, I couldn't even bring myself to open the car door. I sat there in the dark for over thirty minutes, crying until my chest ached. Some days, you feel like you're actually getting better. You think you're healing. And then some days, the trauma just comes rushing back in suffocating waves. Today was one of those days.

Wiping my stained face, I finally grabbed my things and headed inside.

The moment I stepped through the front door, it was as if my mum had been standing there waiting for me. She was hovering in the foyer, her face instantly lighting up with relief when she saw me.

“Hey, baby… are you okay?” She walked straight over, wrapping her arms around me in a tight, protective embrace.

I buried my face in her shoulder and hugged her back tightly. After everything that had happened today, I desperately needed a mother’s hug.

When I pulled back slightly, Mum immediately began scanning my face, her hands coming up to cup my cheeks carefully, moving slowly so she wouldn't trigger my reflexes or make me flinch.

“Mum, I’m really okay,” I murmured, forcing a soft tone. It was a massive lie, but the last thing I wanted was for her to start treating me like I was twelve years old instead of a grown adult with a seven-year-old child of her own.

I sidestepped her gently, ready to go up to my room and collapse, but she followed closely behind me.

“How was your first day at the company?” she asked softly.

“Ugh! Remind me next time to wear comfortable shoes to work, Mum,” I sighed, remembering the excruciating struggle with those four-inch Louboutins before Alexander's delivery.

She let out a soft, melodic laugh that actually managed to bring a small smile to my lips.
“You should have known those sky-high designer heels are not suitable for a long day of corporate work, darling.”

Too bad Alexander and I were crazy suckers for Louboutin designs.

“Tell me—” I started, but the words died instantly in my throat.

My breath hitched, my footsteps stuttering to a dead halt as my gaze locked onto the dining table.

There, resting directly in the center of the table under the chandelier, was a thick stack of legal documents.

The divorce papers.

A heavy, crushing weight dropped into my stomach. He already signed them. He actually listened to me, and he was letting me go.

“Ana…” my mum said softly, her hand instantly gripping my arm tightly to steady me so I wouldn't break down right there on the floor. “It’s—”

“It’s okay, Mum,” I interrupted, my voice trembling as I stared at the white paper. “I know what it is.” Sugarcoating it wasn't going to do me any good.

“Yes, darling… but he didn't sign it,” Mum whispered.

My heart instantly lunged straight into my throat.

I snapped my head around to face her, swallowing hard past the sudden lump in my chest. “He didn't?”

She shook her head, a soft, knowing look in her eyes. “He refused to sign them. He told your father's attorneys that he’s willing to wait for as long as it takes.”

God. I didn't even know if I was supposed to be relieved or completely heartbroken. I was so sure he was going to sign them out of pride. Why would a man like Alexander Miller wait for me?

I let out a deep, shaky sigh. “I should go to bed, Mum.”

“Goodnight, darling,” she murmured in agreement.

The second I got into my bedroom, I fell face-first onto the mattress. I reached into my bag, fished out my phone, and rolled onto my back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

With a heavy sigh, I unlocked the screen, pulled up my settings, and unblocked Alexander's number. I pulled up our chat and quickly typed out a text before I could lose my nerve.

Me: You didn't sign the divorce papers.

Before I could even drop the phone onto the blanket, the screen flashed, and a notification popped up.

Jesus Christ. Does this man ever actually drop his phone? Was he literally sitting in his dark house waiting around for me to unblock him?

Skull Collecting Husband: Yes. I didn't sign them.

I stared at the glowing text, completely frozen. I didn't even know what I was expecting him to say. I didn't know anything at this point. But deep down, beneath the anger and the trauma... I was so glad he didn't sign them.

Me: Okay.

What the hell was wrong with me? I didn't even know what else to say.

His reply came back within a single second.

Skull collecting husband: Okay.

I stared at the screen, a breathless laugh escaping my lips. What was with him and this "okay"? More importantly... what the hell was wrong with the two of us?


Author's note: Good question, Ana.
Thank you all for reading. I hope we are getting ready to wrap up the book.