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After a long moment of hesitation, she waited for Spencer and Callie to come out dressed, then apologized softly, “Sorry, something comes up. I will skip this time. Next time, dinner’s on me.”
Callie clutched the corner of her shirt, eyes full of reluctant curiosity. “Estela, is it something really important?”
“Yes,” Estela replied gently, brushing a hand over her cheek. “Very important.”
Then she looked up at Spencer, biting her lower lip slightly. “I’ll get going now. Mr. Rangel, I’ll do my best to sort out the surgery soon.”
Spencer stood there flipping through a file, glasses catching the light in a sharp, cold flash. His expression was unreadable–cold and distant.
He didn’t say a word as she turned and left.
Sidney, watching from the sidelines, winced inwardly. ‘Welp. That’s it. Everyone’s working late tonight,‘ he thought.
*****
Estela rushed back to the Cloud Villas.
“Mrs. Leon,” the butler and house staff greeted her warmly as soon as she stepped inside.
They were busy picking up scattered puzzle pieces and building blocks from the floor.
When Estela was still living there, she always made sure the children
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cleaned up their own toys. It was rare to see the place this messy.
The staff couldn’t help but miss her. She adored the kids too, but unlike Phoebe, she had boundaries. She didn’t spoil them senseless.
Estela returned their greetings with a polite nod.
Oddly, neither of the children nor Phoebe were anywhere in sight.
She headed upstairs and knocked on the study door.
“Come in.”
She stepped inside and got straight to the point. “You’ve read the agreement. Is there anything you want to change?”
“So rushed?” Vance paused mid–signature. “I thought we could actually talk. This family doesn’t have to end up like this.”
Estela cut him off calmly.
“Vance, you never loved me, did you? If it weren’t for that accident, we never would’ve gotten married.”
2
She no longer cared about the illusion of a happy family. All she wanted now was her freedom
Vance looked at her, really looked at her–for the first time in what felt like years. ‘Maybe I’ve never truly understood her at all. Still, it isn’t too late. Not yet,‘ he thought.
He put down the pen, his tone more measured now. “I think we need to renegotiate Clause One and Clause Four.”
Estela quickly recalled the terms.
Clause One: she would retain ownership of the two properties–one in
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Lakeside Area, the other in Vosa Area.
The first had once belonged to her parents before it was illegally sold off by her uncle’s family. Vance had ended up buying it.
The second was the apartment she and Vance had lived in before they were married.
She hadn’t asked for anything else–not a car, not cash. Just those two places.
Clause Four: she would voluntarily give up custody of the children, but would be allowed one visit a month.
To her, none of it felt excessive.
“You think I’m asking for too much?” she asked, brow furrowing.
“I don’t have time to keep bouncing between properties,” Vance replied. “Clause One is too much.”
His eyes swept over her face–it was still slightly swollen, with a faint trace of red. But there was a raw, fragile beauty to it now.
He loosened his tie, then added, “As for Clause Four–are you sure you can handle it?”
Estela hadn’t expected him to be this shameless.
The apartment was closer to the office, sure–but he hadn’t stepped foot in it since their wedding.
و
As for the children. she no longer had expectations. But she was still their mother. She just wanted to see them, once in a while. See that they were okay.
Her chest ached. Still, she took a step back.
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“Fine. I’ll compromise on Clause One. But Clause Four is non- negotiable.”
“Alright,” Vance said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
He stood, opened the safe, and pulled out a slightly yellowed document, handing it to her.
Estela’s heart skipped a beat. Something didn’t feel right.
Then she saw it–and her stomach dropped.
This wasn’t the divorce agreement she had sent.
It was the prenup she’d drafted six years ago–back when she still believed in love, back when she still believed in him. Back when she thought their future could be real.
Estela snatched the yellowed sheet of paper, her red lips trembling.
Before marrying Vance, she’d once pinned all her hopes on this relationship.
He’d always been cold to her, distant–but she’d believed that even the coldest heart could eventually thaw.
Back then, young and foolish, she’d searched online for advice on how to win a man’s love.
Everyone had their opinions.
In the end, she’d carefully written out this so–called prenuptial agreement–which was really more of a hopeless romantic’s wish list.
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