Unforeseen Backlash

The relentless buzzing of the smartphone vibrating against the polished mahogany desk echoed through the pristine corporate office. Dominic stared at the flashing screen, a deep crease forming between his brows. The word uncomfortable barely scratched the surface of his volatile mood today. He had anticipated a chorus of congratulations following his long-awaited divorce from the woman everyone in their circle deemed a nuisance. Instead, his personal phone blew up relentlessly with back-to-back calls from his closest childhood friends.

He swiped the screen to answer, pressing the cold glass to his ear. "Yes," he answered, his tone measured and icy.

"Dom, did you and Valerie really get a divorce?" the voice on the other end asked.

Dominic pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache brewing behind his eyes. He had no intention of hiding the split. After the morning's public spectacle at the Civic Hall, keeping it under wraps was impossible. "Yes."

A sharp gasp cracked over the line. "Oh my God! That silly woman finally gave up on you?" his wealthy friend blurted out in sheer disbelief. "This happened so fast, I'm not even sure if I should congratulate you or sympathize. It's rare to find a woman like Valerie in our elite social circle. We all know she's dumb, poor, gold-digging, and kind of a total pushover. But she only had eyes for you. She worshipped the ground you walked on. So after really thinking about it, I don't think there's anything wrong with her."

Dominic pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen. His jaw clenched tight enough to grind his teeth. What kind of friend was this? He expected cheers, a toast to his newfound freedom. Instead, he received a baffling, overwhelming sympathy for his newly departed ex-wife.

He hung up the call without another word, tossing the device onto the desk. It didn't stay quiet for long. A minute later, it rang again. Then a third time. Call after consecutive call sang Valerie’s bizarre praises. The men he grew up with, the same men who mocked her presence at every gala, were suddenly acting as if he had lost a prized treasure. By the time the third conversation ended, a thunderous, murderous scowl clouded Dominic's usually stoic face.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, glaring at the sprawling view of Opalbay from his floor-to-ceiling windows. The mounting frustration coiled in his chest.

A sharp knock on the frosted glass door broke his dark reverie. His assistant, Silas, peeked in, looking unusually pale and tense. Before Silas could utter a warning, the heavy oak door swung open, hitting the wall with a loud thud.

Evelyn stormed into the office, vibrating with rage. She ignored Silas, marching straight to the mahogany desk and slamming her manicured hands down upon the smooth wood.

"Dom, tell me right now," Evelyn demanded, her chest heaving under her designer silk blouse. "Did you divorce Valerie because she was unfaithful to you?"

Dominic leaned back in his leather chair, his face turning frigid. He stared at his mother, refusing to match her chaotic energy. "Mom, what are you talking about?"

Evelyn whipped out her tablet and slapped it onto the desk, sliding it toward him. The screen displayed a trending online post by Jace King. The top-tier celebrity had just publicly confessed to a years-long, tragic secret crush on Valerie. The post openly celebrated her daring escape from what Jace dubbed the 'hell pit' of the Thorne family. The comment section was a blur of support for Valerie and venom directed at the Thornes.

"Look at this!" Evelyn screeched, pointing a trembling, diamond-ringed finger at the highlighted text. "Right after you left the Civic Hall, this wretched woman already had her secret admirer come pick her up! For all you know, they might have gotten involved with each other long ago! The Thorne family will not tolerate being bullied like this! We are the laughingstock of the internet!"

Dominic’s eyes scanned the glowing screen. The specific phrase had a crush on Valerie for many years leaped out at him, stabbing at his chest. An ugly seed of jealousy took root, twisting his gut. For a fleeting second, he suspected her sudden eagerness to sign the divorce papers stemmed from a secret affair with Jace. Was that why she didn't fight him today? Was she rushing into another man's arms?

But logic quickly prevailed. He dismissed the absurd suspicion just as fast as it appeared. Between relentlessly following Evelyn’s endless, demeaning daily orders and maintaining the sprawling Thorne mansion, Valerie never had the time or freedom to cheat on him. She was practically a prisoner to Evelyn's whims, fetching tea, arranging flowers, and enduring endless scoldings. She barely left the estate.

"Mom, Valerie and I are already divorced," Dominic replied, his voice deliberately low to shut down the hysteria. "It was a peaceful divorce. She did not ask for anything from us. Let's just pretend she never existed in our lives. You should spend less time on entertainment news."

Evelyn gaped at him, her mouth opening and closing in comical disbelief. The red flush of anger drained from her face, replaced by pure shock. "She didn't ask for anything? Didn't she shamelessly marry into our family specifically because she was eyeing our wealth? She plotted for years to trap you! Now that she's leaving, how is it possible she expects nothing from us?"

Dominic rubbed his temples, feeling the headache intensify. He was unwilling to argue further with his mother's deeply ingrained prejudices. The woman was impossible to reason with once she latched onto a narrative. He pressed the silver intercom button on his desk.

"Silas," Dominic barked. "Come in here and show my mother the finalized divorce papers."

As Silas hurried into the room clutching the thin file folder, Dominic stood up. He grabbed his tailored jacket from the coat rack, sliding his arms into the sleeves, and grabbed his car keys.

"Wait, Dom!" Evelyn called out, turning away from the asset-free documents Silas timidly held out. "Aren't you going to have dinner with me?"

"I'm busy," Dominic muttered, not bothering to look back. He abruptly left the suffocating office, desperate for the silence of his own space.

Hours later, Dominic unlocked the heavy front door to his luxurious personal condominium. The quiet, sterile sanctuary greeted him. The penthouse was untouched, pristine, and devoid of any warmth. He bypassed the living room, heading straight for the kitchen counter to pour a glass of cold water. He reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve his phone, but his fingers brushed against something else. Paper.

He slowly pulled the crisp divorce certificate from his pocket. He held the small booklet under the harsh kitchen pendant light. It looked almost identical to their marriage certificate, save for that one glaring difference. The bold word 'divorce' stared back at him.

The letters felt strangely, viscerally offensive to his eyes. His chest tightened again, an unexplainable weight pressing down on his lungs. A surge of irritation washed over him. With a dark scowl, he crumpled the edge of the booklet and tossed it into a nearby stainless-steel trash can.

He leaned heavily against the cold marble counter, staring down at the discarded booklet resting among the trash. He still could not fathom the morning’s bizarre events. When he drove to the Civic Hall, he only went to see what elaborate, manipulative trick she was playing. He went in convinced that a greedy woman so desperately, pathetically in love with him would never willingly walk away from his fortune and status. He expected her to stall, to weep, or to leverage the media to negotiate a massive real estate transfer.

Instead, she had aggressively thrust the papers at him without a single moment of hesitation. She didn't bat an eye. She didn't waver. Her face held no sorrow, only a cold determination that unsettled him to his core. In his sheer, paralyzing shock at her demeanor, he had blindly followed her confident lead. He sat there, signing where she pointed, handing over his identification when she told him to, until the process was irreversibly finalized. He had felt like a passenger in his own divorce.

The profound silence of the condo was abruptly shattered. His phone began to ring from where he had tossed it onto the entryway table.

Dominic squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw ticking. He ignored it.

The phone stopped, then instantly started ringing again. The relentless chime echoed off the bare, modern walls, grating on his last nerve.

He pushed off the counter, strode over to the table, and snatched the device. Seeing the caller ID, he answered with a grim, exhausted expression. "What is it?"

Weston’s obnoxious, loud voice poured through the speaker, competing with a thumping bass track in the background. "What's wrong? Aren't you going to celebrate your newfound singlehood?"

"Get lost," Dominic growled, ready to end the call.

"Wait, wait!" Weston laughed boisterously over the noise of the club. "By the way, I'm at Valerie's singlehood celebration party right now. Your ex-wife is acting really generous tonight. She's paying for everyone's drinks at the bar. I bet most of the money she's splashing around is your hard-earned money, right?"

Dominic severely furrowed his eyebrows. The memory of the zero-asset paperwork flashed in his mind. The image of the empty financial settlement lines burned behind his eyelids. He gripped the phone tighter, his knuckles turning white, his voice dropping to a dangerously low, tight whisper. "She did not ask for a single cent from me."

A stunned silence immediately fell over the line. The heavy thumping bass in the background of Weston's call seemed to fade into nothingness as the realization dawned.

Everyone in the affluent circles of Opalbay knew Valerie as the ultimate, shameless gold-digger. The legend of her greed was foundational lore among the elite. Three years ago, after heroically saving Evelyn's life during a severe medical emergency, Dominic had offered her a reward. He had asked her to name her price, expecting her to request a modest sum or perhaps a job in his corporation.

She had brazenly, coldly negotiated her reward right in front of them. She started by demanding ten million. Just as Dominic pulled out his checkbook, ready to agree to the amount, she bumped it to a staggering hundred million. The audacity had left the hospital room breathless. Dominic's expression had darkened, ready to write the massive check just to get rid of her. But she wasn't done. Before he could agree to the hundred million, she looked Dominic dead in the eye, changed her mind a final time, and delivered her demand: I want you to marry me.

The scene of her extortion had been secretly filmed and leaked online. From that day on, the entire elite social circle had branded her a menace. They had spent the last three years eagerly anticipating the ruinous payout she would inevitably extort during their widely publicized divorce. They took bets on how many properties and shares she would drain from the Thorne empire. They laughed about how Dominic would have to bleed millions just to shake her off.

Yet, defying all societal expectations and established rumors, she had confidently walked away with nothing.

"Dom..." Weston finally croaked over the line, the mockery gone from his voice. "Are you serious?"

Dominic didn't answer. He stared at the trash can where the divorce certificate lay discarded. The unsettling realization of his own misjudgment crept up his spine, chilling him to the bone.