The smell of sterile hospital air collided with his cold arrogance.
I tried to sit up, every movement tugging painfully against raw stitches.
“The babies… they’re okay,” I whispered, reaching toward the bassinets beside me.
Adrian didn’t look.
He wrinkled his nose.
“This place smells like blood and desperation,” he said, disgust dripping from every word. “Let’s make this quick.”
He tossed a thick folder onto my chest. The papers hit my incision area and pain shot through me so violently I nearly cried out.
“Sign the divorce documents, Helena,” he said, voice clipped, bored, impatient. “Now. I’m done pretending.”
Zara folded her arms, leaning casually against the wall. “It’s best if you cooperate,” she added sweetly, like betrayal was a cup of tea she was kindly offering.
He pointed to the clause already highlighted.
“I keep my company. I keep everything I built. You take the settlement, disappear, and don’t embarrass me by fighting. Because if you fight? I’ll bury you in legal hell… and I’ll take our twins too.”
