The Divorce Ultimatum

The sharp morning breeze bit into Cora’s cheeks as she stepped out of the taxi. The chill helped clear the lingering fog in her mind. She stood before the familiar front door of her shared home, her pulse drumming a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Before touching the metal handle, she paused. Panic flared in her chest. She whipped out her phone, flipping the camera on to inspect her reflection. She tilted her chin, pulling her jacket collar aside to scrutinize her neck and collarbones. She had to ensure she carried no physical marks from her reckless night with Gideon.

Her pale skin was unblemished. No bites. No telltale redness. She let out a ragged breath, smoothed down the wrinkles in her clothes, and pushed the front door open.

Myra sat at the grand dining table, a half-eaten breakfast spread before her. The older woman’s gaze snapped to the doorway.

"Mom," Cora greeted in a mild, even tone.

Myra slammed her porcelain teacup onto the saucer. "The nerve of you to come back here!" Her voice was sharp, echoing through the quiet house. "After talking back to me on the phone yesterday, you dare show your face? Get a divorce! Divorce my son at once!"

Cora froze by the entryway. A heavy wave of oppressive humiliation washed over her. She knew her family background was humble compared to the Lockwood family’s inherited wealth. She knew Myra saw her as a lowly charity case. But Cora had fought tooth and nail for her career. She was a senior interpreter at the prestigious translation department of Lockwood Group. She earned her own money, maintained a respectable career, and handed most of her paycheck over to support this very household.

None of that mattered to Myra. To her mother-in-law, Cora was simply a defective incubator. After a full year of marriage with no baby in sight, Myra’s disdain had morphed into venom. She brutally attacked Cora’s worth at every turn. She had stood in this exact room, calling Cora barren in front of extended relatives. She made a sport out of parading her wealthy friends’ daughters in front of Declan, openly suggesting them as superior replacements.

Cora dug her nails into her palms. She swallowed the rising tide of rage. For a year, she had endured this degrading treatment out of a misguided sense of love and loyalty to her husband. But after discovering Declan’s infidelity, that blind devotion had shattered.

She needed time to secure her finances and plan a clean exit. Until then, she had to play the game.

Taking a steadying breath, Cora masked her cold, calculating endurance behind a meek expression. "Mom, I didn't miss the fertility appointment on purpose. I was just caught up with an urgent project at work. What I said yesterday... I was just stressed from the long hours."

Myra sneered, her eyes flashing with pure resentment. "Don't call me Mom. You are no daughter-in-law of mine! You skipped the doctor because you know there is something wrong with you. If you can't bear any children, you should pack your bags and divorce my son!"

Cora stepped closer. She reached out, gently holding Myra’s arm to deliver her strategic promise. "I feel terrible for not getting pregnant yet," she lied, her voice dripping with fake remorse. "Please, don't be angry. If I still can't get pregnant this time, I will divorce Declan myself. I promise I won't hold him back."

The harsh scowl on Myra’s face faltered. The older woman narrowed her eyes, dropping her gaze to Cora’s flat stomach.

"Fine," Myra scoffed, pulling her arm out of Cora’s grasp. "If I don't see any progress soon, I will not tolerate your presence in this house for another second. You will sign those papers and leave."

Cora forced a polite smile. Inside, her heart turned to ice. Myra wanted a breeding machine. Declan wanted a fool he could cheat on. She didn't waste another breath arguing. She turned on her heel, headed straight upstairs to change into her professional attire, and drove to the office.

Lockwood Group Tower loomed against the city skyline, a massive glass structure bustling with elite professionals. Cora and Declan both worked here, but their lives rarely intersected during business hours. He was a manager in the planning department on the fifteenth floor, while she worked in the translation department thirty floors above him.

When Cora first joined the company, Declan had laid down a strict rule. Office relationships are forbidden. We must keep our marriage a secret to protect our jobs.

She had believed him. She had kept her head down and acted like a stranger whenever they crossed paths in the lobby.

Steering her car into her designated spot in the underground parking lot, Cora gripped the leather steering wheel. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. She realized now how naive she had been. Lockwood Group was one of the top conglomerates in the country. The building was packed with beautiful, ambitious women at every corner. Declan hadn't hidden their marriage to respect company policy or to protect their careers. He had hidden it specifically to flirt with his female coworkers without consequence. He wanted to play the role of an eligible, wealthy bachelor.

That was why his ring finger remained bare from nine to five.

Cora killed the engine and grabbed her leather handbag from the passenger seat. She unzipped the main compartment to toss her car keys inside. As her fingers brushed the bottom lining, they grazed against something small, cold, and hard.

Frowning, she fished the object out.

It was a square crystal cufflink.

Cora stared at the heavy piece resting in her palm. The flawless cut of the crystal caught the dim parking garage light, shimmering with undeniable luxury. She recognized the designer brand engraved on the polished silver backing. A single cufflink from this exclusive, limited-edition collection cost north of two hundred thousand.

Declan could never afford a piece of luxury jewelry like this on his salary.

As she held it up to take a closer look, a handsome face emerged in her mind, causing her heart to skip a beat.