004
2406 Words
It was a little after nine in the morning when Ace Kane and Emily Sunford walked downstairs and stepped out through the iron gate of their apartment complex.
They stood by the curb, waiting for a taxi.
Ace glanced at her profile one last time, drawing in a quiet breath. “Do you… want to think it over?” he asked. “One more time?”
Emily didn’t even look at him.
“No,” she said simply.
The refusal came out fast, almost impatient, like she was swatting away a fly.
Just then, her new handbag chimed with a bright ringtone.
She opened the flap and took out a brand-new luxury smartphone, the back emblazoned with the logo of a limited Porsche Design edition. The polished case gleamed in the weak daylight, the device so fresh it still seemed to carry that “just-unboxed” aura.
Emily glanced at the caller ID, then drifted a few steps away. When she answered, her voice was soft, drenched in warmth.
Once, that tone had been reserved for him alone.
Now, it belonged to the man on the other end of the line.
Ace said nothing more.
Since everything was already over, there was no point in dragging the corpse of their relationship any farther. He raised a hand and flagged down an approaching taxi with practiced ease.
When the car rolled to a stop, he opened the back door and gestured politely toward Emily, who had just finished her call.
From the first day they’d met, he’d tried to act like a gentleman.
Now that they were at the end, he still kept that same restraint.
It had nothing to do with love, not anymore. Just a habit carved into him by the Kane Family’s strict upbringing.
And yet—
As Emily approached the car, she gave him a fleeting look filled with a strange mixture of pity, contempt, and thinly veiled mockery.
“See?” she said lightly. “Last year, we took a taxi to register our marriage. This year, we’re taking another taxi to finalize our divorce. That—” she nodded at the car “—is exactly why we’re here.”
She slid into the back seat.
Ace closed the door for her, walked around the car, and sat up front in the passenger seat. Aside from telling the driver their destination, he didn’t say another word.
The taxi rolled through traffic in heavy silence, carrying them toward the Civil Registry Office.
…
At the divorce counter, the clerk motioned for them to sit and began checking their documents.
While shuffling through the forms, the clerk asked in a routine tone, “How are you splitting your joint property? Have you come to an agreement?”
Emily answered without missing a beat. “There’s nothing to split. The apartment is rented. We don’t have a car. The clothes, cosmetics, and other things he bought for me—I can give them all back. As for savings, there’s only a few hundred dollars left. He can keep that.”
She sounded generous on the surface, almost magnanimous.
But the look in her eyes was one of someone performing a favor from a great height, and her tone betrayed a barely concealed impatience—she wanted the divorce done as quickly as possible.
The clerk asked a few more standard questions. After confirming that both parties agreed to the divorce, and that there were no disputes or complications, she stamped two thin red booklets and passed them across the desk—one to Ace, one to Emily.
The marriage had taken more than half an hour to register.
The divorce took less than five minutes.
…
They walked side by side to the main doors of the Civil Registry Office.
Ace drew a slow breath, then turned to her with a faint smile and extended his right hand. “We’re divorced now, but… we can still be friends, right?”
Emily slid the divorce certificate into her bag, smoothed a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, and looked at him calmly.
She didn’t take his hand.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’d rather we didn’t. Staying friends would just remind me of everything I’d rather forget. In my life, your existence was a mistake. A bad dream.” She exhaled, almost sounding relieved. “Today, I finally woke up. I feel… lighter.”
A nightmare.
That one word turned whatever faint, ghostly image of her still lingering in Ace’s heart into dust.
He let his hand fall back to his side.
Just then, the roar of an engine grew louder from down the street.
They both turned to look.
A sleek white Audi TT coupe screeched to a stop by the curb.
The driver’s door opened, and a man stepped out—a man with a pockmarked face, walking with a noticeable limp.
Ace recognized him at once.
Colin Hawke. Thirty years old. Son of the company’s vice president. Years ago, a car accident had left his legs uneven in length. His looks were unfortunate; his build was neither impressive nor lean; and despite his family’s money, he’d never managed to find anyone willing to marry him.
Colin climbed out of the car and headed straight for Ace, arms spreading wide.
He pulled Ace into a hug that looked overflowing with enthusiasm.
Then he gripped Ace’s hand firmly, his face shining with smug delight.
“Thank you,” Colin said, voice syrupy and loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. “Thank you so much for taking care of my wife this past year. Really, thank you. You didn’t do a very good job, but… don’t worry. I’ll take care of Emily from now on. I won’t let her cram into buses anymore, and I’ll definitely never let her into a greasy kitchen again.”
He thumped his chest. “I’ll do everything I can to give her the best. I’ll give her an entirely new life—a happy life. You can rest easy.”
It sounded nothing like gratitude.
It sounded like pure, calculated gloating wrapped in polite words.
Ace didn’t bother replying.
He just turned his gaze toward Emily, silently asking her to confirm—or deny—the picture being painted.
He had thought, if she ever left him, she’d at least choose someone younger, better-looking, more accomplished than him. Someone whose presence would make it obvious why he’d lost.
He hadn’t expected this.
She’d gone straight for the money. Not even real, generational wealth—just the appearance of it. She’d picked a man who couldn’t even walk properly, so long as the car and the salary looked decent enough from far away.
“Just because of him?” Ace asked quietly.
Emily’s cheeks flushed slightly, a flicker of embarrassment in her eyes.
But she lifted her head and raised her voice as if volume alone could bury the shame.
“Yes. Because of Colin,” she said. “He loves me. He can give me a better life. I’m not stupid, Ace. I can’t survive on candlelight dinners of thin air while I choke down your cold leftovers. And yours aren’t just leftovers—they’re stale.”
Maybe shouting it was the only way she could drown out her own guilt and n***d greed.
Ace didn’t want to say anything else. He was ready to turn away.
Colin, however, wasn’t done.
“Hey, man, you really love Emily, don’t you?” he said, clapping Ace on the shoulder again. “So you did the right thing. A capable man knows how to hold on—like me. When I see a woman I want, I hold on. A man who isn’t capable needs to know when to let go—like you. Let go of a woman you can’t give a proper life to.”
He leaned closer and patted Ace’s shoulder again, twice, patronizing. “Good choice. Really. Great choice.”
Ace slapped his hand away.
He looked back at Emily, eyes suddenly as cold as the winter wind. “You chose… this recycling bin?” he asked. “I’m impressed.”
The words hit exactly where they were meant to.
Emily’s face twisted, her embarrassment igniting into rage. She exploded, shrieking like someone who’d just had her mask ripped off in public.
“What right do you have to call my boyfriend trash?” she screamed. “What gives you that right? He drives an Audi. What do you have? Your two legs?”
“He makes more than ten grand a month. His father is the company’s vice president.”
“And you?” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “You work in the office by day and deliver food by night and still barely clear a few thousand. Your parents are stuck in some miserable backwoods town you’re too ashamed to mention. You didn’t even dare invite them to the wedding. Afraid they’d show everyone just how cheap and pathetic you really are?”
“You call my boyfriend trash?” she spat. “Take a look at yourself. You’re the real garbage here. A broke nobody with a dog’s life, not even good enough to sit in an Audi and feel real leather under your a*s for once!”
She hurled the words at him like handfuls of glass, each shard meant to cut.
Then she grabbed Colin Hawke’s arm, pressing herself closer to him with exaggerated affection, her voice sweetening as she called him “honey,” like a stage actor leaning into a role.
Colin didn’t even flinch at the insults she’d just thrown. He kept smiling. “Emily, don’t say he’s a broke nobody with a dog’s life,” he said mildly. “Even if it’s true.”
Together, they turned and started toward the white Audi TT.
A matched pair of predators, smug and satisfied.
A low-budget Westermarck version of an infamous adulterous couple.
They were only a few steps from the car when a different kind of engine roar tore through the air.
This time, it wasn’t sleek or refined.
It was deep. Heavy. Violent.
A massive George Patton armored SUV thundered into view, a black behemoth barreling down the street like a runaway tank.
It didn’t even bother braking.
The steel monster rolled straight over the little white Audi TT.
The coupe’s frame crumpled under the assault with a horrible screech of metal, crushed flat in an instant. The rear, the front, the roof—everything buckled. The windows shattered into sprays of glittering shards. Tires exploded under the weight, bursting like overworked lungs.
The once-stylish sports car now looked like a flattened toad on the asphalt. A very expensive, very dead toad.
Colin Hawke and Emily stood frozen a short distance away, staring at the c*****e with slack jaws.
The George Patton armored SUV was a monster of a vehicle—nearly twenty feet long, weighing over three and a half tons. Under the hood, a brutal twin-turbocharged engine roared like an enraged beast. The thing cost around half a million dollars, easily.
And right now, that iron giant was using their beloved Audi as a welcome mat.
It rolled back.
Then forward again.
Metal screamed a second time, then a third. Each pass turned the TT flatter, smaller, more unrecognizable.
Only when the once-proud little coupe was reduced to an unrecognizable heap of twisted metal did the armored SUV finally climb off its victim, roll a few yards to the side, and come to a stop.
The engine cut. The street fell into a strange, tense silence.
Then the door opened.
The first thing they saw was a pair of long legs encased in sheer black stockings, stepping carefully down from the high cab.
A slender, pale hand reached down, holding a pair of silver heels dusted with tiny sparkling crystals. The shoes slid onto delicate feet, one after the other, with unhurried grace.
Once both heels were on, the rest of her emerged.
A tall girl with long hair cascading over her shoulders, half her face concealed by oversized sunglasses. She wore a pale blue off-the-shoulder dress, its curves wrapped in a thin layer of black lace.
There were no straps, but her figure was so stunning that the dress clung to her like it had been sewn directly onto her skin.
Through the lace at her collarbone, hints of soft, luminous skin flashed in and out of view.
Colin had initially been ready to explode—ready to scream at whatever lunatic had just mutilated his car.
Then he saw her.
His anger evaporated like water on hot metal. His eyes widened, throat working as he swallowed, gaze glued to the woman who’d just stepped out of the armored beast.
She didn’t spare him a single glance.
Her heels clicked once, twice on the pavement. Then she walked straight past him, her posture lazy and languid, heading toward one person and one person only.
Toward Ace Kane.
When she stopped in front of him, she slid off her sunglasses—and the world around them seemed to dim in comparison.
Her face was bare of makeup, yet her skin looked as delicate as a child’s palm, and her features were so fine they almost didn’t seem real.
She lifted her arms and wrapped them around Ace in a tight hug, then puckered her glossy lips, clearly aiming for his cheek.
Pressed against him, she was all warmth and softness and unashamed closeness.
Ace’s expression turned helpless. “Fae, you’re an adult now,” he muttered. “Try to act like one.”
His half-sister, Fae Kane, didn’t care in the slightest.
She forced a quick kiss onto his cheek, then finally released him, content—for now.
Still clinging to his arm like it belonged to her, Fae turned her attention to the pair standing not far away.
Her eyes swept slowly over Colin Hawke and Emily, a faint smirk curling at the edge of her lips.
“Brother,” she said, her voice sweet but edged with irony. “You sent me your wedding photos, remember? I recognize Emily.”
Her gaze lingered on Emily’s stiff expression for a second, then slid toward Colin.
“But the thing standing next to her…” She tilted her head, lashes fluttering. “What is that supposed to be?”
- Writer
