EIGHT
1089 Words
His eyes narrowed as he turned into a quieter street, his voice dropping to a command.
“Do not take her outside today. Don’t open the door for anyone. Stay inside, lock everything, and wait for me.”
On the other end, Lilian hesitated, catching the weight in his tone. “…Is she in danger?”
Michael’s jaw tightened, his voice low and dangerous.
“Just do as I say. Keep her safe. No matter what.”
“Understood,” she answered firmly.
The call ended, and Michael slipped the phone back into his pocket.
His eyes burned with a cold fire.
They had taken his love.
They had mocked his sacrifice.
But if anyone laid so much as a finger on the only family he had left.
He would unleash hell itself.
And with that vow silently carved into his soul, he continued walking—toward the courthouse, he was going to finalize the divorce.
The first step towards his revenge.
-COURTROOM-
Cynthia checked her phone again, her manicured nails tapping impatiently against the screen.
“Why is he taking so long?” she hissed under her breath, glaring at the empty courtroom door.
All her messages and calls were ignored.
Her lips curled with irritation. That bastard.
“Ten minutes before the scheduled time and he still hasn’t shown up,” she snapped, her voice rising in anger. “Does he think he can just keep me waiting?!”
Lucas, leaning casually against the polished table, smirked at her rage. He straightened his cufflinks with calm arrogance.
“Relax,” he said smoothly. “If he doesn’t come, I’ll send my men to drag him here like the dog he is.”
Cynthia’s scowl softened slightly at Lucas’s words, a cruel smile tugging at her lips. “I would so love that.”
Just as her anger simmered into smug satisfaction—
CREEAAK.
The heavy courtroom doors swung open.
Every head turned.
Michael stepped inside.
His stride was unhurried, but every step landed with a quiet weight that silenced the whispers in the room.
His clothes were rumpled, with faint traces of dried blood staining his shirt. Yet his posture was straight, his eyes calm, carrying an invisible force that made people unconsciously step back as he passed.
For a split second, Cynthia’s chest loosened in relief, he was alive. She hadn’t killed him after all.
The relief only came from that she did not have to bother about prison.
But the relief curdled instantly into rage.
“Michael!” she spat, storming toward him. “Do you think this is a game? Making me wait? Ignoring my calls?” Her voice dripped venom as her eyes swept over his appearance. “And look at you." She glared at him.
"Why do you like embarrassing me”
She raised her hand high, aiming for his face.
But before her palm could strike, Michael’s hand shot up.
SMACK!
Not the sound of her slap—but his fingers locking around her wrist, firm and unyielding.
The room went still.
Michael’s eyes burned cold as steel as he leaned in, his voice a low growl that carried across the chamber.
“What right do you have,” he said evenly, “to blame me?”
Cynthia froze, stunned by the venom in his calmness.
“You're complaining of the blooatains on my clothes when you're the one who caused it."
"How dare you call me shameful?” His eyes locked onto hers.
“We both know the most shameful person in this room is you.”
The crowd stirred, whispers beginning to rise.
“I walked in at the exact time this divorce was scheduled. Meanwhile, you arrived long before, arm-in-arm with the man you betrayed me for. Tell me, what’s worse?"
"To arrive on time? Or to arrive early with your adultery on full display?”
Gasps rippled through the room.
Cynthia’s face flushed red. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Michael’s tone hardened, his voice like ice. “You talk of embarrassment. Yet it was you who made a mockery of our wedding vows, and you have the audacity to play the victim?”
Before Cynthia could summon a reply, a mocking chuckle drifted across the courtroom.
Lucas strolled forward, slow and smug, the court application in hand. He placed a possessive arm around Cynthia’s waist, pulling her against him.
“Well, well,” he sneered, waving the documents like a trophy. “Listen to the mighty Michael. Where was all this courage when you were groveling like a dog? Hm?”
He leaned closer, his smirk dripping contempt. “Don’t think your little speech changes anything. This paper..” he waved it in Michael’s face “—is your death warrant.
Today, the last shred of dignity will be burned. You will be left with nothing. No money, no properties, no home, and just one kidney.”
Cynthia regained her venom, her eyes glittering with malice as she leaned into Lucas’s chest. “That’s right. There will be nothing left for the poor bastard Michael Lawrence.”
The door in front of the court swung open.
The court officials entered first, their presence commanding hush over the restless crowd.
Then the judge appeared, robes flowing as he ascended to his seat, his gavel striking once.
Bang.
The room stilled.
“All rise,” the bailiff announced.
Cynthia and Lucas hurried and stood in their seats.
But Michael strode unhurriedly to his seat.
“Be seated.”
The proceedings began.
The judge’s voice rang through the chamber as files were opened.
Michael’s gaze never shifted. He neither defended himself nor sought pity. He sat with his back straight, calm and collected.
The judge glanced through them. “All joint properties registered under Mrs. Cynthia… solely belong to her.”
Gasps rippled. Whispers erupted. Cynthia’s lips curled in a satisfied smirk; Lucas smirked wider, tightening his grip on her hand under the table.
Michael’s eyes lowered to the divorce decree placed before him.
So that’s why... That’s why she insisted every property stay in her name.
It all made sense now.
A hollow laugh echoed in his mind, though his face betrayed nothing.
How ridiculous.
To think she believed these scraps mattered to him.
His current net worth was in quadrillions.
Cynthia, Lucas, and everyone in the court could not even begin to comprehend it.
Peanuts. Nothing more.
The judge’s gavel struck again. “The marriage between Michael Lawrence and Cynthia Lancaster is hereby dissolved!”
- Writer
