Chapter 3

I remained silent, waiting patiently for Arthur to finish tying the bandage.

Only then did I speak quietly:

"You swore I would be your only wife."

Julian let out a weary sigh, presenting his righteous excuse:

"People change, Scarlett."

"I can't let my child be born a bastard."

With that, Julian bent down, gracefully offering a pen to my fingers:

"Sign it."

"Don't worry. In my heart, you'll always be my only true wife."

Only then did I finally lift my eyes to look at him.

His bandages had been removed today. Ugly, jagged scars crossed over his cheeks, puckered and mangled.

Tsk. Hideous.

It turned my stomach.

I raised my hand. Not to take the pen—

*SLAP!*

I slapped him across the face with everything I had.

Julian staggered back, completely caught off guard.

"Scarlett, you—"

I didn't give him a fraction of a second to breathe. Stepping forward, I gripped his collar, yanked him down, and whipped my hand back and forth across his face in a brutal flurry of strikes.

*Smack! Smack! Smack!*

Crisp, sickening cracks echoed in the room.

The fragile, newly healed tissue on his cheeks tore open immediately, spraying fresh blood over my skin.

Only when my palm was slick with his blood did I shove him away in disgust. Julian stumbled back several steps, barely catching his balance when Clara rushed forward to hold him up.

I took a wet wipe from Arthur and slowly, meticulously cleaned the blood from my fingers and palms.

"For the past two weeks, I've tolerated you far enough."

"Divorce?"

Before the word fully landed, I flicked my wrist, whipping the bloody wet wipe straight into his face.

It slapped wetly against his ruined cheek before sliding down to the floor.

I sneered:

"Who the hell do you think you are to ask me for a divorce?"

Fury flared in Julian’s eyes, his fists clenching until his knuckles popped.

The next second, armed guards stepped out from every shadowed corner of the estate like specters, forming a deadly perimeter around Julian and Clara. And this time, they weren't holding knives—they held semi-automatic rifles.

Julian froze.

He hadn't expected me to actually turn my weapons on him.

Glancing around warily, he stared at me in disbelief.

"Scarlett, what is the meaning of this?"

I didn't answer immediately.

Right before his eyes, I took a sleek pistol from Arthur’s hands and racked the slide with a clean, metallic *clack*.

The barrel pointed straight at his forehead.

Tilting my head, I asked in a teasing, mock-scolding tone:

"Your face was burned, Julian, not your eyes. Can't you tell?"

"I'm going to kill you."

Staring down the black muzzle of the gun, Julian’s initial panic was replaced by an arrogant confidence.

He shook his head, like an adult watching a child throw a tantrum:

"Scarlett, put the gun down. Don't let it go off and hurt Clara. Over the years, you've butchered my enemies, and I've taken bullets for you. I know how much you love me. You could never bring yourself to kill me."

Julian paused, his voice turning into a patronizing warning:

"Don't forget, we built this criminal empire together."

"Scarlett, you can't survive without me."

I held the gun steady, holding his gaze for a few seconds.

Then, slowly, I lowered my arm and tossed the pistol back to Arthur.

A flicker of smug triumph flashed in Julian’s eyes.

I leaned forward, scrawled my signature across the divorce papers, and shoved them against his chest.

"Get out."

Julian looked down at the document, a rare look of bewilderment crossing his features. He clearly hadn't expected me to let him go so easily. For a moment, his eyes seemed lost in the memory of the five years we’d spent clawing our way to the top together.

Until Clara tugged gently at his sleeve.

"Julian..."

Snapping back to reality, Julian tightened his grip around Clara and marched out of the mansion without looking back.

"Miss Kane, are you really letting him walk away?" Arthur asked softly.

"With his temperament, he may try to eliminate you. If we spook him..."

I chuckled silently, taking the gun back from Arthur’s hands.

"Spook him? Arthur, he's not a predator anymore. He's a worm waiting to be crushed."

"Didn't you notice? A few slaps and a light shove left him trembling, barely able to stand."

"And he worried about the gun going off? His senses are so fried he couldn't even tell the slide racked on an empty chamber."

*Click.*

One by one, I pushed heavy brass rounds into the magazine.

"It seems Clara took exceptional care of him. Whatever poison she's been dosing him with... it wasn't a small amount."

The moment the magazine snapped into place, I raised the gun and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

Bullet after bullet tore into the massive, framed wedding portrait hanging in the center of the grand hall. Julian’s face in the portrait was shredded into bloody confetti.

"I run clean businesses now. The messy, bloody vengeance..."

I smirked. "I'll let Miss Hayes finish it for me."

My hands needed to stay clean.