Chapter 5: Sign the Divorce Papers

Susie Landry suddenly collapsed.

“Susie!” Graham Whitaker shouted, his voice filled with urgency as he rushed to her side.

Stella stood frozen, watching the panic etched on Graham's face. It was a look she had never seen before, not even once during their years of marriage.

Even Yvette, standing nearby, was startled. She backed away, whispering nervously, “I didn’t touch her. I swear.”

Graham cradled Susie in his arms, his eyes cold and piercing. The chill in his gaze sent shivers down Yvette's spine. “How dare you bully a sick woman? Are you trying to kill her?”

Stella couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh at the accusation. “What’s wrong with your eyes, Graham? She fainted on her own. What does it have to do with us?”

It was the same scene, replayed over and over. She had grown tired of this farce.

Graham’s expression darkened. “Look at yourself, Stella. You’re acting like a jealous lunatic.”

Yvette bristled with anger and stepped forward to confront him. “You’re unbelievable! What kind of—”

“Yvette,” Stella interrupted, clutching her friend’s arm tightly. Her voice was soft, but there was an eerie calmness to it, as though she was on the verge of breaking. “Don’t waste your breath. It’s pointless.”

Graham’s biases were clear. She couldn’t wake someone who was determined to remain asleep.

Graham’s glare didn’t waver. Scooping Susie into his arms, he brushed past Stella. His voice, icy and resolute, delivered a warning: “You’ve crossed the line, Stella. My patience has its limits.”

Without hesitation, Stella shot back, “Graham Whitaker, the ones crossing the line are you and Susie Landry.”

Graham didn’t look back, his indifference cutting deeper than words as he carried Susie away.

Stella’s gaze followed him, fixating on the necklace draped around Susie’s neck—a family heirloom. Her chest tightened with pain.

Yvette pulled Stella into a comforting embrace, her voice laced with concern. “Stella, are you okay? I’m sorry. I couldn’t do more to help.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Stella replied, shaking her head. Her voice betrayed her exhaustion, but her eyes burned with determination. “I’ll find a way to get that necklace back. I won’t back down on this.”

Yvette clenched her teeth, seething with anger. “None of them are worth it! Especially Graham Whitaker. What a scumbag! No wonder you’re so adamant about this divorce. He’ll get what’s coming to him, believe me.”

Back at her apartment, Stella couldn’t stop dwelling on the necklace. After much deliberation, she decided to contact Mrs. Brown, the housekeeper at the villa.

“Is Graham at home?” Stella asked.

“Yes, ma’am. He just got back,” Mrs. Brown replied.

Hanging up, Stella furrowed her brows. She resolved to return to the villa. She had to confront Graham about the necklace. No matter what it took, she would reclaim her mother’s keepsake.

When Stella arrived at the villa, the living room was eerily quiet—empty.

“At this hour, he’s probably in the study,” she thought. Graham was a workaholic and typically holed up there. But that was before. Ever since Susie Landry returned, Graham seemed to have plenty of free time to spend with her.

Just as Stella was about to head upstairs, the sound of voices from the kitchen caught her attention.

“Graham, you’re amazing,” Susie’s voice chimed.

Stella followed the sound and froze at the sight before her.

Graham Whitaker stood at the stove wearing a black apron, frying steaks. Susie Landry sat at the kitchen bar, her chin resting in her hands, gazing at him with adoration. The necklace around her neck sparkled under the lights, mocking Stella with its brilliance.

Susie’s expression was dreamy, her voice laced with sweetness. “Graham, you’re so good to me.”

Stella’s heels clicked against the tiled floor, announcing her presence despite her hesitation.

Susie turned toward her, smiling brightly. “Ms. Summers! You’re just in time. Graham is making me a late-night snack. Would you like some?” Her tone was cheerful, her mood unmistakably buoyant.

Stella felt a wave of nausea rise within her.

The proud Graham Whitaker, cooking for Susie Landry? What next? Were they planning to spend the night together in blissful harmony?

Ignoring Susie, Stella walked straight to Graham. Her gaze was steady, her voice devoid of emotion. “Graham Whitaker, I want my necklace back.”

Her tone was cold. “I’m already divorcing you. I’ve given up my husband for her, but that necklace is non-negotiable.”

Graham paused, turning to face her. “Stella, I haven’t agreed to the divorce yet. And I’m not your property to ‘give up.’”

His jaw tightened, irritation flickering in his eyes. Divorce—she kept throwing that word at him like a weapon.

Stella had no patience for his games. “Graham Whitaker, the divorce is inevitable. The sooner you sign, the better.” She let her voice drip with sarcasm. “That way, you can officially be Ms. Landry’s husband while she’s still alive. Isn’t that what you want?”

Graham’s brows knitted together in frustration.

“Ms. Summers! What are you implying?” Susie exclaimed, her voice trembling as tears welled up in her eyes. She swayed slightly, feigning weakness. “I never intended to take your husband from you. I just… I just wanted to leave this world with fewer regrets.”

Her pitiful act only deepened Graham’s concern.

Stella felt sheer disgust. Her voice was icy. “Susie Landry, save your theatrics for Graham. I’m not interested in your little performances.”

Susie’s expression faltered. She turned to scoop a bowl of soup and handed it to Stella.

“Ms. Summers, I’m truly sorry. Please, accept this as my apology.”

Stella didn’t move. “I don’t need it.”

Susie’s voice grew more insistent as she tried to push the bowl into Stella’s hands. “Please, Ms. Summers. Forgive me.”

Instinctively, Stella stepped back. In that moment, the bowl slipped from Susie’s grasp, shattering on the floor.

Hot soup splattered across the tiles, and a few drops landed on Susie’s leg. She let out a piercing scream, stumbling backward.

“It hurts…” she whimpered, tears streaming down her face as she clutched her leg. “Ms. Summers, I truly wanted to make amends. Why did you have to knock the soup over?”