PART 3
Five minutes after my call, Nathan Brooks’s life began falling apart right in front of him.
His phone wouldn’t stop lighting up.
Chairman of the Board.
Bank.
Attorney.
Chief Financial Officer.
Unknown Number.
Unknown Number.
Unknown Number.
He accidentally answered one call on speaker.
A furious voice filled the room.
“Nathan! What did you do? Harrington Capital pulled everything. Creditors are demanding immediate payment. Reporters are asking about fraud and domestic vi0lence. Tell me this isn’t true!”
Nathan shouted:
“Shut up!”
Olivia looked up from her tablet.
“Too late. The emergency board vote is already over. You have been removed as CEO of Brooks Group.”
Madison grabbed his arm.
“Nathan, fix this.”
He turned on her.
“Fix it? You told me she was nobody!”
Madison gritted her teeth.
“And you said she was weak!”
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was tragic.
That was what they called love.
Two cowards searching for someone to blame when the lie finally collapsed.
The sirens grew louder outside.
Security opened the gates.
Rain slammed against the windows as red and blue lights began flashing across the marble floor—the same marble where my bl00d had fallen only minutes earlier.
Then Nathan looked at me.
Really looked at me.
Not as a wife.
Not as decoration.
Not as an obstacle.
As a person.
“Soph… Sophia,” he said, his voice cracking. “We can talk.”
I shook my head.
“You struck me twenty times because your mistress knew how to flatter your cruelty.”
“I was angry.”
“No. You were comfortable being cruel.”
“I can make it right. I’ll give you anything you want.”
“You already did.”
He frowned.
I picked up the divorce folder from the floor.
My bl00d-stained fingerprints marked the cover.
I opened it and let the pages fall one by one in front of his shoes.
“You gave me evidence.”
“You gave me witnesses.”
“You gave me a reason.”
“You gave me my freedom.”
Weeks later, the entire country was talking about the case.
Some people called me brave.
Others said I should have reported it sooner.
Many women sent me private messages, sharing stories they had never dared to say out loud.
That was when I understood something important.
My silence had never been weakness.
It had been survival.
But my voice could become justice.
Six months later, Brooks Group no longer existed.
