To Get the Divorce Papers
1000 Words
Ever since their marriage, Charles rarely came home.
He was either away for ten days to half a month or would return in the middle of the night. But today was different—it was the first time he had come back this early.
Are the minds of those in power truly so unfathomable?
Juan, the household servant, pondered this question but kept his thoughts to himself. Instead, he quickly ordered the workers to stop what they were doing.
Charles ascended the stairs, his expression cold and unreadable. When he pushed open the door to the master bedroom, he was met with an eerie silence—empty, devoid of any sign of life.
He rarely returned home at this hour, but no matter how late he arrived, Anna would always be there waiting for him. Even if she had already fallen asleep, she would wake the moment he stepped inside, her eyes lighting up as she fussed over him.
But today, as he stood at the threshold, the emptiness of the room felt oddly unsettling. A strange restlessness crept over him. He loosened his tie and threw it aside, his gaze sweeping across the room.
Nothing had changed—yet everything felt different.
His eyes landed on the bookshelf. It was half-empty. The books that usually lined the shelves were gone.
He moved to the closet, opening it with a sharp tug. His clothes were still neatly arranged inside, but not a single item belonged to Anna.
Charles’s frown deepened. He refused to believe that Anna had truly agreed to the divorce and left. Was she playing games? Trying to manipulate him by pretending to walk away?
The thought made his sneer grow even colder.
Anna wouldn't let go of their marriage so easily.
Yet, the longer he stood there, the more irritable he became.
After leaving the house she had shared with Charles for a year, Anna didn’t go anywhere else.
Instead, she returned to her apartment in the city center.
Although she rarely stayed there, the place was well-maintained by her staff. After setting down her luggage, she took out her phone and made a call.
The line connected almost instantly. The man on the other end sounded groggy, as if he had just woken up.
“Anna, I just dreamed about you, and now you’re calling me. We really are in sync.”
Anna ignored his playful tone and got straight to the point. "I need you to investigate something for me. Once you have the evidence, send it over."
She explained what she needed. When the call ended, a cold glint flashed in her eyes.
The next day, Anna woke up early.
After getting ready, she gathered the necessary documents and drove to the district courthouse.
The courthouse was already open for business, and people were steadily arriving for marriage and divorce proceedings.
Anna stood outside, waiting patiently.
One hour passed.
Still, there was no sign of Charles Bennett.
Her patience began to wear thin. She took out her phone and dialed his number—no answer.
She called Michael next, but his phone was turned off.
Anna checked the time.
One more hour, and the courthouse would close.
Her eyes darkened.
Without hesitation, she turned around, got into her car, and drove directly to Bennett Global Enterprises.
As soon as she stepped into the building, she ran into a familiar figure.
The woman had striking features—long, chestnut-colored hair cascading in loose waves over one shoulder, surgically enhanced eyelids, full lips, and a sharp, pointed chin. The epitome of the "internet celebrity" look.
Her business suit was meticulously tailored to accentuate her curves.
Anna recognized her instantly.
She had seen this woman a few times before when she brought Charles lunch.
Hannah.
One of Charles’s secretaries.
Hannah often accompanied Charles to business events. Over time, she had grown bolder, her attitude laced with arrogance and a sense of self-importance. It was as if she were just waiting for the day Anna would be out of the picture—so she could take her place.
"Mrs. Bennett, you're here again," Hannah said, lifting her sharp chin slightly, her tone dripping with condescension.
The emphasis on "again" was deliberate, as if to remind Anna of her supposed insignificance.
Anna remained unfazed. Her lips curved into a polite yet distant smile. "Hannah."
Hannah’s gaze dropped to Anna’s empty hands, and a smirk tugged at her lips.
"No homemade lunch for the CEO today? Finally realized that he just throws away whatever you make for him?"
She didn’t bother to hide the mockery in her voice.
In the past, Anna might have tolerated this kind of behavior.
She had endured it, time and time again, out of consideration for Charles’s reputation.
But now?
Now that she was done with Charles, this petty secretary was nothing more than an annoyance.
Hannah continued to scrutinize Anna, her eyes filled with barely concealed envy.
Anna was breathtakingly beautiful.
The simple yet well-tailored dress she wore exuded understated elegance, making her look effortlessly refined.
Hannah hated it.
How could a mere trophy wife, a woman who had supposedly done nothing but cook for a husband who didn’t even appreciate her, compare to her—a successful, high-ranking secretary with an impressive academic background?
Yet, despite all her self-proclaimed superiority, Hannah couldn’t ignore the jealousy that gnawed at her.
It was this jealousy, mixed with a lingering sense of inferiority, that made her desperate to assert dominance over Anna whenever she had the chance.
She was about to throw another snide remark when—
Anna suddenly reached out and grabbed her jaw.
Hard.
Hannah’s eyes widened in shock.
The woman who had always been so docile and accommodating was now looking at her with an icy gaze that sent a chill down her spine.
For the first time, Hannah felt fear.
Anna's voice was soft, almost casual.
But the steel behind it was unmistakable.
"Who gave you the right to act this way?"
- Writer
