Chapter 3

Nathaniel's lips twisted into a cold smirk. "Harrison, get your ass back here now!"

Harrison let out a light laugh. "You think I'll come running just because you snapped your fingers? We're divorced, Nathaniel. Your little games don't work on me anymore."

His jaw tightened. "I'm giving you one chance to change the divorce papers."

Her voice turned teasing. "Did I lie? It's been six months since you woke up, hasn't it? Six months and you haven't so much as touched me. Three years in a coma left you physically intact, but clearly something's not working right downstairs. Maybe find yourself a good herbalist? Consider it my parting gift—hope you recover your manhood soon!"

Nathaniel's temple pulsed visibly. This woman had lost her damn mind.

"Harrison, you'll regret this. Deeply."

"Sorry, but you'll never get the chance to prove that."

"Harrison—!"

The line went dead with two sharp beeps. He barely had time to process his rage before the dial tone mocked him.

'Damn her...!'

Harrison was already at her best friend Gabrielle's penthouse when she hung up. Gabrielle burst out laughing, giving her an enthusiastic high-five.

"That was glorious! Nathaniel's probably choking on his own rage right now."

Harrison realized she'd been too meek before, letting him walk all over her for years.

'Self-respect comes first. Always.'

"Three years ago when Isabella heard Nathaniel was in a coma, she bolted like a scared rabbit. Now that he's awake, she comes crawling back? Pathetic. You're better off without that trash," Gabrielle scoffed. Harrison unwrapped a caramel, letting the sweetness drown out the bitterness. "That's how you know who really loves you, Gabrielle."

Those who are loved fear nothing. The unloved live in constant doubt.

Gabrielle noticed the pile of candy wrappers and yanked Harrison to her feet.

"Enough moping! Lose one tree, gain a whole damn forest. Tonight, I'm booking eight male models to celebrate your freedom!"

Harrison laughed, covering her face.

Gabrielle suddenly snatched Harrison's thick-rimmed glasses and tossed them in the trash.

Harrison reached for them. "Hey—!"

"Stop. You've been buried in research too long. Take notes from Isabella—time to glam up."

Harrison remembered how her parents always called her the ugly duckling compared to Isabella's swan. Nathaniel must've thought the same. To him, she'd always be that awkward girl.

Gabrielle dragged her toward the door. "Shopping spree! Hair, nails, wardrobe—the works. Let Nathaniel and everyone else see the goddess you really are!"

As they left, Gabrielle paused. "Wait, you're really taking nothing from Nathaniel in the divorce?"

"I have my own money."

"So Isabella gets to spend his fortune? How generous of you!" Gabrielle teased.

Harrison rolled her eyes.

"What about the black card he gave you?" Gabrielle pressed.

Nathaniel had handed her an unlimited black card years ago. She'd never used it.

Now, Harrison pulled it from her purse with a wicked grin. "Today, Nathaniel's paying for everything."

That night at The Velvet Lounge.

Willowbrook's most exclusive nightclub, where heirs and elites burned through fortunes. The bass pulsed relentlessly, bodies grinding under strobe lights.

In the VIP section, Nathaniel dominated a leather booth. Dressed in all black, sleeves rolled to reveal muscular forearms and a platinum watch worth millions. His aristocratic features drew hungry stares from every woman in the room.

Beside him sat Sebastian Gondale—heir to the Gondale empire—and other young elites.

Sebastian smirked. "Seriously? Harrison filed for divorce?"

The group laughed. "Everyone knows she's obsessed with you. She married you while you were comatose. No way she's serious."

"Let's bet how long before she comes crawling back."

Sebastian checked his watch. "I give it till midnight. She's probably texting him right now."

Nathaniel's expression darkened. He pulled out his phone, opening their WhatsApp.

The last message was from last night—a photo of herbal soup with: [Sweetheart, even though your bones healed, keep drinking this. Don't stay out too late!]

Scrolling up revealed hundreds of similar messages. Daily. Relentless.

He'd never replied. Not once.

Today? Radio silence.

An odd irritation prickled his skin.

Ding!

A notification.

"Told you!" Sebastian crowed.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

More alerts in rapid succession.

The group erupted. "Knew she couldn't last! But damn, she folded fast."

"Read them out. Let's hear Harrison beg," Sebastian urged.

Nathaniel's brow arched. Had she really caved so easily? Then why the dramatic exit this morning?

He tapped the notifications—and froze.

Sebastian leaned over, reading aloud: "VIP Alert: Card ending 0975 charged $800 at Glamour Nails."

The group frowned.

Nathaniel scrolled down.

$2,000 at Elite Hair Studio.

$86,000 at Chanel.

$240,000 at Louis Vuitton.

No pleas. No apologies. Just receipts.

The room fell silent, the collective ego bruise almost audible. Nathaniel slammed his phone on the table. The money meant nothing. It was the audacity—divorced and immediately splurging? This wasn't the Harrison he knew.

The meek woman who'd clung to him for years had grown claws.

"Damn, Harrison's gone full makeover. Trying to copy Isabella?" Sebastian mused.

"Isabella's Willowbrook's golden girl. Harrison's just a bookworm playing dress-up."

"A swan's a swan. A duck stays a duck."

They all laughed.

Then—a sudden hush fell over the club. Every head turned toward the entrance.

Someone gasped. "Holy hell... is that an angel?"