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Lorenzo didn’t hide his displeasure. The moment he had picked her up from a crowded downtown street, he had frowned and muttered, “I’ll take you shopping. You need new clothes?”

“I’m fine,” she had said quietly, climbing into the car without another word.

The drive to the mansion had been silent. Unusually silent.

Back then, when they used to ride together, Krystal did most of the talking. He listened—rarely interrupting, barely replying—but his eyes had always stayed on her, and his quiet presence had felt enough. He’d just listen in silence, maybe with a small smile, but he never really started the conversation. Unless it was important.

But this time, neither of them spoke. Now, with her quiet too, the silence sat like a weight in the car. Lorenzo’s grip on the steering wheel was tight. His eyes didn’t leave the road once.

She didn’t understand what he was so pissed off about—she hadn’t said a word the entire drive.

Eventually, she gave up trying to figure him out.

As they reached the mansion, she began walking ahead, only to have Lorenzo suddenly step in front of her, blocking her path. She stopped short and looked up at him with a questioning gaze.

“You know what you have to do today, right?” he asked, voice low but firm. He looked handsome in a color she had never seen him wear before. Broad chest and shoulders filling the suit out like it was tailored to his temper.

She nodded, adjusting the hem of her dress to keep it from dragging. “I know, Lorenzo. Don’t worry. I won’t let Grandpa find out about the divorce.”

He froze. That look—tight jaw, narrowed eyes—came back with full force.

‘Now what?’ she thought, already annoyed and on edge.

“You don’t call me ‘baby’ anymore,” he muttered, taking a deep breath, hands in his pockets. His head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing with irritation. “You slipped into your role as a soon-to-be ex-wife pretty fast, didn’t you?”

Krystal blinked up at him, expression calm, voice polite. “Thank you.”

His fists clenched at his sides, like he was holding himself back from grabbing her. Her innocence—real or not—only made it worse.

Chapter 8 Ex-Wife

‘If it weren’t for what happened with Esther two years ago…’ Lorenzo’s gaze softened. ‘Maybe I’d be living a happy life with Krystal.’

He was used to her. Used to having her around the house. Used to her being there with him—bringing him food, fussing over him, showing up like clockwork. She was more punctual than his damn watch when it came to taking care of him.

And now?

She was gone.

The same day they signed the divorce papers, she disappeared from his life. Just like that. No calls. No message. No goodbye.

Like none of it had ever mattered. A cold, hollow space replaced it, and he didn’t know how to breathe in it.

His days had grown colder. Lonelier. And this anxiety—the kind that crept into his chest for no reason at all—was eating him alive.

How could someone who cared so deeply, walk away so easily?

This ungrateful little woman hadn’t even shown her face to him for more than an hour since they’d signed those divorce papers!

Krystal stared at him, thrown off by the expression on his face.

‘What is this look on this Cactus of a man?’ she thought, confused by the unexpected softness in his eyes. ‘We agreed to divorce. He’s not going to change his mind now, is he?’

Her heart skipped, panic rising.

She took a deep breath and stepped closer to him, a soft smile curling on her lips.

“No, baby,” she murmured, her face shifting into the familiar, practiced expression of the gentle, obedient housewife she had played for the past two years. Her fingers reached up, brushing against his cheek, trailing softly down to his jaw. “If you don’t want a divorce, then we can get married again.”