Chapter 1 I Want A Divorce

"This venture finally got off the ground, and honestly, Valerie single-handedly carried it through. Jaycob, out with it-what's the grand thank-you gesture?"

"Jaycob, it's time to cut things off with Kendra and marry Valerie instead. God knows what lies Kendra sold your grandma just so she could maneuver you into this marriage years ago."

Kendra Murray eased the grand doors of the banquet hall open and halted instantly, knuckles whitening against the brass handle.

There stood Jaycob Mills, her husband, leaning idly by the bar. Several fastenings on his once-impeccable shirt lay open, exposing the sculpted ridge of his collarbone. He rotated the wine glass lazily between his fingers, exuding effortless calm that bordered on indifference. He drew a measured sip, remaining silent, his attention fixed on Valerie Fletcher. The unmistakable softness in his gaze revealed far more than words ever could.

"Kendra?"

Someone finally registered Kendra's presence in the doorway, hesitation flickering over whether to approach or withdraw.

The lively murmur vanished in an instant.

Kendra lingered in silence, her lithe frame exuding a quiet grace, the elegant curve of her neck lending her an effortless charm. Clad in a plain ivory gown, she required no embellishments to captivate-hers was an allure that commanded gazes without effort.

She appeared utterly mismatched in the bustling, festive gathering. Yet, it was precisely that stark difference-the serenity she embodied amid the surrounding clamor-that rendered her presence inescapable.

Such scenes were familiar territory for her, the subtle sting of embarrassment a constant companion. Still, the icy, almost repulsed glint in Jaycob's gaze pierced her heart, leaving a void that echoed with unspoken sorrow.

She approached him deliberately, her determination solidifying with every stride.

"Congratulations..."

"Why are you even here?" Jaycob interrupted her mid-sentence, his exasperation etched plainly across his features.

A chuckle escaped from the crowd. "She's probably sniffing around for cash. Spotted Jaycob raking in another windfall and figured she would swoop in for her share."

Giggles spread like wildfire through the assembly.

Kendra fixed her eyes on Jaycob. He remained impassive, as though the jeers swirling around him were mere whispers in the wind.

"If there is something on your mind, spit it out," Jaycob remarked tonelessly, his irritation laid bare.

Valerie interjected with a soothing grin, seemingly trying to defuse the tension, "Ease up, Jaycob, no need to be so brusque. Kendra remains your wife, after all. You've hit the jackpot-it's only fitting she would want to bask in the glow. And everyone else, cut it out. This isn't the time."

She pivoted toward Kendra with apparent kindness. "Come mingle with us, Kendra."

A wry, sardonic curve touched Kendra's lips.

She hadn't come here to invite ridicule upon herself. Her sole purpose was to honor a vow from a decade past. At twenty, Jaycob had confided that should he ever triumph, she must stand beside him in revelry. Tonight, she fulfilled that oath, and in doing so, aimed to sever ties that had long since unraveled.

Just as things got really tense, a waiter pushing a big cart full of champagne suddenly stumbled. The cart tipped over, and bottles and glasses came crashing straight toward Kendra and Valerie.

Jaycob acted on reflex, drawing Valerie into his embrace for safety. Kendra bore the brunt, fragments slicing into her thigh, blood flowing swiftly.

Valerie let out a startled breath, then nudged Jaycob away and knelt to assess Kendra. "Goodness-such a torrent of blood. This seems dire... How will you ever glide across the stage again in this state?"

Kendra gently pushed Valerie's hand away as she reached to wipe the blood. She stayed silent. She just lifted her eyes to meet Jaycob's. His gaze gave nothing away.

In that single heartbeat, a coldness settled deep inside Kendra. Her husband had shielded Valerie instead of her. And of all people, he knew exactly how much her legs meant to her career and her life.

Kendra raised her chin, swallowing the tears that the sharp pain tried to pull out of her. Right there, she made up her mind once and for all-she would never shed another tear over Jaycob.

Clenching her teeth against the hurt, she got to her feet and limped off to the side so she could look after her wound herself.

The party mood had already faded. After an accident like that, no one felt like celebrating anymore. Someone suggested calling it a night early, and Jaycob agreed right away. He even made sure someone saw Valerie safely home.

Kendra paid no attention to the blood still seeping from her leg. She drew in a slow, steady breath and looked straight into the mix of disgust and impatience on Jaycob's face.

"Jaycob," she said clearly and firmly, "I want a divorce."

The guests, who had been saying goodbye and getting ready to leave in groups, all stopped and turned at the same time. Their chatter died instantly. The whole room felt thick and quiet, like the air itself was holding its breath.

Only then did Jaycob really look at Kendra. A quick flash of surprise crossed his face before it turned into a hard, mocking sneer. "What game are you playing now? If my grandma hadn't pushed me into marrying you, do you honestly think you would be standing here as my wife? You fought tooth and nail to marry me. And now you're the one asking for a divorce? You really expect me to buy that?"

In that moment, Kendra suddenly saw all her years of holding on for what they truly were-foolish, almost something to laugh at.

She said, her voice calm and even, "A divorce would be better for both of us. I'll walk away with nothing."

Jaycob stared at her with ice in his eyes. It was only when he saw how serious she looked-how steady and certain-that he finally understood. She wasn't putting on an act. She really meant every word. What he couldn't figure out was why she picked this exact moment.

After a long silence, he gave a short, bitter laugh. "Back then, Valerie and I were already engaged. If you hadn't stepped in the way, she would be my wife right now-"

"So I'm stepping aside and giving the place back to her," Kendra said, cutting across him.

Jaycob went quiet. At last, he spoke in a flat voice. "If we divorce now, you won't get a single penny."

Deep inside, he was still convinced she was doing this to get money out of him.

"I already said I'll walk away with nothing," Kendra answered. Her voice stayed strong, without a single shake.

Only then did the truth sink in for Jaycob-Kendra had made her choice. She truly wanted to walk out of his life.

His lips pressed into a thin, tight line. After another pause, he said in a cold tone, "Fine. If that's what you want, then we'll get divorced."

The words had barely left his mouth when his assistant, Aaron Blake, walked in.

The second Aaron noticed the blood on Kendra's leg, he sucked in a quick breath. "Mrs. Mills, what happened to your leg? I'll drive you to the hospital right now."

"She is not my wife anymore," Jaycob said, not even glancing her way.

His face stayed blank, but the hard set of his mouth showed how annoyed he really felt.

Aaron started to speak, then stopped himself. Jaycob's personal matters were none of his business-even though, over the years, he had clearly seen everything Kendra had sacrificed and given.

Kendra turned and headed toward the stairs. Every step sent fresh pain racing through her legs, but she kept her spine straight and her head high, refusing to let anyone see how much she was hurting.

She took a taxi straight to the hospital.

While the doctor cleaned the cut and wrapped it carefully, he shook his head and muttered, "You lost all that blood and came here by yourself?"

Kendra held tight to the edge of the examination table. Cold sweat had soaked through her dress, but she answered quietly, "I can handle it on my own."

She let the sharp physical pain pull her focus away from the deeper ache inside.

The doctor spoke in a scolding tone. "Thankfully, the cut isn't deep. If you don't rest properly, it will still affect your dancing. You shouldn't even be putting weight on it-every step is making things worse."

Once the bandage was secure, he looked at her seriously. "Call someone to come pick you up. Right now."

Kendra sat on a bench in the hospital corridor and scrolled slowly through her phone contacts. She paused at a name she hadn't dialed in years. After a short moment of doubt, she pressed the call button.

A few seconds later, a warm, playful voice answered with a laugh, "Well, look who finally decided to remember I exist."

Alexia Carter had been Kendra's roommate back in their dance school days. After they graduated, Alexia promised herself she would never perform again and instead opened her own dance studio. Kendra had taught classes there for two years-until she got married. After the wedding, Jaycob didn't want her in the spotlight anymore, so the two friends slowly drifted apart.

Kendra shared the reason for her unexpected call.

On the other side, Alexia wrinkled her brow. "What about Jaycob? His better half is hurt. Shouldn't he be racing over there this minute?"

Kendra kept her tone even. "I've told him I want out of the marriage."

A short pause hung on the line before Alexia replied, "Hang tight-I'm on my way." With that, she ended the call.

Kendra set her phone down and gazed at the constant stream of people weaving through the hospital corridor.

Her mind wandered back to her twenty-first year, during that wild hurricane that battered the city.

The roads had turned into rivers, and Jaycob wouldn't hear of her wading through the mess, worried about hidden dangers lurking below that could slice her up. So he hoisted her onto his back and trudged, one foot after the other, from the train stop clear to their place-battling howling gusts and relentless downpours.

Come morning, a raging fever knocked him flat for several days. But he never grumbled once. All he said was, "Those legs of yours are destined for grander spotlights."

In those days, his concern for her was genuine. These days, it had vanished completely.

Nearby, tucked inside a sleek black sedan, a man lounged in the rear, his eyes locked on the solitary woman perched on a bench in the hospital passageway.

She looked far slimmer than she had seven years earlier, and even in the dim light, the weariness shadowing her features stood out plainly.

Without thinking, the man furrowed his brow just a touch, a fleeting shadow crossing his expression.

From the driver's spot, his aide murmured softly, "We've got word-your grandma is doing better now."

"Alright. Head out."

His words came out deep and controlled as he turned his head. Soon after, the car eased away from the lot and melted into the darkness.