The Moment I Froze His Black Card Was More Satisfying Than Our Wedding Night - Chapter 16: Chapter 16

The next evening, Alexander came to pick me up.
The second I got in the car, the heavy smell of cigarettes made me frown.
How much had he been smoking?
Seeing my reaction, he quickly rolled down the windows.
His eyes were bloodshot, filled with something dark I couldn't read. Pure exhaustion.
"Victoria," he handed me the divorce papers. "You really want a divorce?"
I nodded. "Yeah, so sign it ASAP. I don't want to drag this out, and I definitely don't want to see you in court."
Then something occurred to me, and I smirked.
"As for your daughter, if you want to take this to court, I'm ready to..."
"Victoria," Alexander turned to me, struggling to get the words out. "I'm sorry. It was my fault. What happened to Emma had nothing to do with you."
I let out a cold laugh. Not surprised at all.
"Ha. You didn't even bother investigating before deciding I was guilty." My voice was questioning. "We've been married five years. Is that really what you think of me? That I'm the kind of person who'd hurt a kid?"
Alexander's face went rigid with regret.
"I'm sorry..."
I stared out the window. It was raining again.
This rain seemed to follow me around—whenever I felt like shit, it would cry the tears I couldn't.
"Listen up, I, Victoria Sterling doesn't stoop to petty bullshit like that," I said, losing patience. "If you actually feel guilty, then sign the damn papers. Consider it compensation."
Alexander went pale, but still couldn't bring himself to pick up the pen.
I'd had enough. "Sign it and send it to my lawyer. Then we're even."
As I moved to get out, he panicked.
"Victoria," he grabbed my hand desperately, begging in a way that confused me. "I don't want a divorce."
I took a deep breath.
This whole clingy act was getting old.
"You know exactly how we got here. Don't give me this 'I should've done things differently' crap. It's pathetic."
"Sign the papers now, or I can't guarantee your kid's safety." I was deliberately trying to provoke him.
Alexander's face twisted in pain.
"I know you wouldn't..."
Hearing him admit that gave me this twisted sense of satisfaction—like I'd finally gotten my revenge.
But seeing me still cold as ice, his voice cracked with desperation.
"If you don't like them, I'll send them away, okay?"
Watching this usually composed, arrogant man grovel for me stirred something complicated inside me.
It didn't feel satisfying—it felt heavy.
"Alexander," I turned to face him seriously. "I told you what my name means—'one true love.' If all I am to you is some calculated choice, then we were always going to fall apart."
Alexander's breathing hitched, confusion and pain written all over his face.
"I just don't understand how we got here."
I sighed as the light drizzle outside turned into a downpour.
The rain pounded against the windows, like it was hammering against his panicked heart.
"Alexander, the sun doesn't just suddenly set. And people don't just suddenly stop caring." My voice grew distant.
"I always believed that what's mine will stay with me, and what isn't mine won't be mine no matter what I do. But you never understood me—what I hate most is fighting for something."
I used to be perfectly content staying by Alexander's side.
But "willingness" itself—while it sounds brave, it's actually pretty pathetic.
And a Whitmore heiress is born for greatness.
Never pathetic.
I pushed open the car door as the rain outside began to ease up.
Just like the storm raging inside me.
Maybe it was brief, maybe it was messy, but this ugly truth was what our relationship had always been underneath it all.