Married to Destroy You

Chapter 4

Two hours in a tense courtroom did nothing to change the expression of the woman in a black formal dress with flowing hair. Even when the judge declared, “Legally divorced,” and brought down the gavel, Anna’s face remained unmoved.

There were no tears. No nervousness. Not even a trace of pity on her face as the judge ruled that her marriage to Joshua Salvador Vanderbilt was officially over.

It had only been five hours since she arrived in the country after flying in from France. Before the jet lag had even worn off, she was already sitting here, witnessing the end of a marriage that had always been a performance—for him.

And when the hearing ended, Anna simply stood up, adjusted the hem of her dress slightly, and walked toward the door without looking at anyone.

Her seven-inch black heels echoed sharply against the marble floor as she left the courtroom.

No one was waiting for her outside.

There were no comforting hugs, no friends... no family. Everything felt hollow. Even the look in his eyes had become vacant. But behind her own gaze, a storm of emotion brewed. There was no sadness—not even a hint of loss. All she felt was disgust.

Her heels created a slow, rhythmic echo down the hallway, slowing only when she spotted two people embracing intimately at the far end.

Isabelle and Joshua...

To Anna’s eyes, they looked like a scene from a cheap soap opera. Isabelle clung to Joshua’s arm, her face tilted dramatically against his chest, while her fingers roamed as if trying to carve a ‘mine’ sign into him.

Anna let out a quiet snort of disgust before quickening her pace.

She quickly turned her gaze away and walked straight past them—mere dust in the air to her, nothing more than an annoyance.

But of course, Isabelle couldn’t let her pass without making a scene.

“Arrogant ex-wife,” she said with a venomous smile. “Still acting like you haven’t lost everything.”

Anna came to a halt. She turned slowly, her gaze cold and piercing as it locked onto Isabelle—like she was staring at a minor blemish on an otherwise clean surface.

“Funny,” Anna said slowly, the corners of her lips curling faintly. “I was celebrating my freedom—but I suppose you know what it’s like to live off a man’s leftovers.” She threw a disgusted glance at Joshua. Unknowingly, as their eyes met, a strange glint flickered in Joshua’s.

Isabelle froze for a moment, eyes wide—she hadn’t expected Anna to strike back so quickly. Her expression darkened, and she opened her mouth to reply—but Joshua cut her off first.

“Enough, Anna. There’s no need to drag this out. You’re no longer part of our lives. It’s best if we never meet again. Know your place—we live in different worlds now,” he said coldly.

Isabelle silently smirked, throwing a triumphant glance at Anna—Joshua had now completely discarded her like trash.

Anna responded with a blank expression. “You think I want to see your face again, Joshua? I’m glad you said that.” The calm façade she had carefully worn began to crack. Did this man truly believe she still longed to see him? The very thought made her shudder.

A frown formed on Joshua’s forehead. This wasn’t the Anna he remembered. Not the woman who used to freeze whenever he stepped too close.

His frown deepened as their eyes met. Those eyes... they no longer pleaded, no longer looked fragile. All he saw now was a cold, unreadable gaze. She felt like a stranger.

Still, Joshua convinced himself that Anna was only pretending to be strong, trying to hide her weakness—and to him, that made her look even more pitiful.

“I know you’re hoping for property division,” he said, jaw tight, “but you’re not getting anything from this marriage.”

He expected her to break down, to beg. But instead, Anna chuckled. A smile tugged at her lips—one so foreign and frigid that it unsettled him.

“I don’t need the scraps of your estate, Joshua. Keep it—for the two of you to grow old with.”

Joshua fell silent. There was something in her voice that froze his tongue. No matter how hard he searched for traces of the woman he once knew, nothing matched. His mind flickered to the obedient Anna from the past, but the memory faded quickly as Isabelle's bright laughter rang beside him.

“Anna, you’ll regret it when your purse runs dry and your name no longer carries the honor of the Vanderbilt title! Do you even realize how unfortunate you are to lose that?”

This time, Anna truly looked at her. Her gaze wasn’t angry—it was almost... sympathetic.

“Such a shame, Isabelle,” she said softly. “You’re fighting over a hollow skeleton. Meanwhile, I’ve just been set free from that prison.”

With those final words, Anna turned away without another glance. Her heels clicked against the marble floor, fading with every step she took.

Joshua remained still, his eyes glued to her retreating figure. His face remained blank, but his gaze didn’t blink—he followed her until she disappeared from sight.

And in her last glance, he saw no anger, no pain... only emptiness.

For some reason, that emptiness was the hardest to ignore.

.

.

Anna's footsteps echoed lightly as she descended the courthouse steps. The spring breeze swept her hair across her face, forcing her to brush the strands aside more than once.

She paused at the edge of the sidewalk, her gaze drifting to the congested street ahead.

To her left, just a few feet away, reporters scrambled for soundbites and scandal. None of them noticed the woman who had just lost her title as a Vanderbilt. And for Anna, that was a relief.

She glanced down at her phone. Her finger hovered over a name—the only one she trusted to pick her up today. But before she could press it, a sharp honk tore through her concentration.

Beep. Beep.

She looked up slowly. A black sedan had pulled up beside her. Too familiar. Joshua sat in the driver’s seat. Beside him, Isabelle lounged with her sunglasses perched low, a smirk curling her lips.

The window slid down. Isabelle leaned out, her voice like syrup laced with poison.

"Tragic, isn’t it? From penthouse views to sidewalks. From Rolls Royce to... taxi?"

Anna didn’t flinch. Her gaze was unreadable. She turned slightly, intending to walk away.

But Isabelle wasn't finished. She stepped out in her designer heels, closing the distance between them with catwalk grace, her condescension thick in the air.

“You look lost, Anna. No family, no lawyer, not even a ride. Do you really think you’ll survive out here alone?”

Anna met her gaze in silence. She was ready to ignore her. But then—Joshua stepped out of the car.

She held back a sigh, her patience waning. These two again—like pests who didn’t know when they’d overstayed their welcome.

“Waiting for a cab?” Joshua’s tone was dull, almost bored. “After our divorce, you look a little... sad. I could be generous. You can ride with us. Better than standing here like a stray.”

Anna didn't answer. But her eyes were locked on Joshua's with a sharp, piercing gaze—a look that made him uneasy without understanding why.

"Oh, don’t be too generous," Isabelle said with a chuckle, patting Joshua’s arm before turning to Anna. "I’m sure Anna would be too proud to accept. Especially now that she’s officially... nobody."

She leaned in slightly, her voice silkily cruel. "But hey, we could clear some space in the trunk if you need a ride. We know it’s hard catching cabs these days when you’re... unemployed and unwanted."

Anna stood a little straighter.

Her eyes flicked from Isabelle to Joshua, her expression shifting as if she were examining two sewer rats who had somehow learned how to speak.

"I don’t need pity," she said, brushing her wind-blown hair behind her ear. "Especially not from people who still manage to look classless even when they think they’ve won. Congratulations... you still look cheap."

Isabelle let out a mocking laugh. "Funny how you still pretend to have pride."

Anna’s smile was small but razor-sharp. "Funny you think your overdrawn lipstick counts as a power move."

Joshua narrowed his eyes. He hadn't said much, too busy reading the woman in front of him. Too calm. Too still. This wasn’t the Anna who used to cry in the hallway, the woman who used to beg for time and love. No... this one was different. And for some reason, that unsettled him.

"It’s pointless to act superior when you’ll be living off instant noodles in a rented apartment," he said coldly, though something in his tone trembled. "Honestly, I almost feel sorry for you."

Anna shrugged. "Pity is expensive, Joshua. Save it—you’ll need it more than I do."

She checked her watch and sighed. "Another minute around you two and I might lose brain cells."

Isabelle opened her mouth, ready to retaliate, but was interrupted by the low purr of a high-powered engine approaching behind them.

A sleek black sedan with special license plates skidded to a stop beside them, but it was the brand, a very rare European collector's piece that stole the show. This is the kind of car that isn't sold just anywhere, not even offered to the elite without an invitation. One of only a handful of cars ever made, it was only seen at private auctions behind gilded doors. Isabelle noticed it right away-she was an expert when it came to expensive items. Even Joshua had once tried to get his hands on it and failed.

The driver stepped out in a tailored black suit, bowed slightly at Anna, and said with crisp politeness, "Miss Anna, the master is waiting for you."

Joshua stiffened. His eyes didn’t leave Anna—something unfamiliar rising in his chest.

Isabelle gawked. "Seriously? A rental just to show off?"

Anna didn’t answer. She walked gracefully toward the car, her heels clicking against the pavement. Just before stepping in, she paused and turned slightly, her silence louder than any insult.

She turned slightly, just enough to let half her face show. A subtle smile played on her lips.

“One thing you should remember,” she said calmly. “Losing the Vanderbilt name isn’t a downfall. It’s liberation.”

Her gaze slid to Joshua—cold and unreadable, yet sharp enough to unsettle him. Then to Isabelle, as if she were nothing more than dust clinging to a shoe.

“And it’s amusing… seeing people laugh at someone who no longer plays in the same league.”

Without waiting for a response, Anna stepped into the car, her grace unshaken.

Joshua stood still, his eyes trailing the woman he once thought he had power over—now leaving without a glance back.

There was something stirring in his chest. Empty. Unrecognizable. Uncomfortable. And damn it, she didn't even know why. She took a slow breath, then turned to walk away down the sidewalk expressionlessly.

Inside the car, the scent of fine leather and silent luxury wrapped around Anna like armor. The warmth, the calm—it felt like stepping into her real life.

Then her gaze met a pair of piercing eyes across from her.

The man in front of her wore a perfectly tailored black suit and an elegant silver tie. His hair was slicked back with precision, and his sharp gaze didn’t waver.

A hint of a smile touched his lips.

“You’ve finally shed your skin, Anna.”