Divorced But All-Powerful

Emma Brooks stood frozen in front of the table for what felt like an eternity, her gaze fixed on the stack of documents before her. Marcus Sullivan's sharp, unmistakable signature sat boldly on the stark white pages, burning into her vision. Tears blurred her sight no matter how hard she tried to hold them back. The room was deathly quiet except for the uneven sound of her breathing, while each thud of her heart forced her to confront a reality she couldn't escape.

A faint breeze drifted through the half-open window as the afternoon sun spilled into the room. Though the light appeared gentle, it carried no warmth. Outside, Marcus stood with his hands clasped behind his back. His tall figure remained rigid and distant, like a statue carved from ice. Even the shadow stretching across the polished wooden floor seemed heavier than the man himself.

After a long silence, Marcus finally spoke. His tone was calm, but there wasn't a trace of emotion in it.

"I've already signed the papers. You should sign them too. It's best to finalize the divorce before Rose returns."

Emma's body tensed. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the table as if it were the only thing keeping her upright. She wanted to answer him, but the words wouldn't come. They lodged painfully in her throat before she could force them out. Without turning around, Marcus continued speaking.

"The prenuptial agreement makes everything straightforward, so there won't be any disputes over assets. Still, I won't leave you with nothing. You'll get twenty million dollars and the villa on the west side. I need to give my grandfather a reasonable explanation. He won't accept it if you walk away empty-handed."

Emma stared at him in shock, struggling to believe what she had just heard.

"Your grandfather... does he know you're planning to divorce me?"

Marcus turned his head slightly. His face remained cold, and there wasn't the slightest hint of hesitation in his eyes.

"What he thinks has nothing to do with this. I've already made up my mind."

The strength drained from Emma's legs. She grabbed the edge of the table with both hands, barely managing to keep herself standing as tremors ran through her body. Tears streamed down her face unchecked, but she no longer cared enough to wipe them away. She whispered in a trembling voice, "Marcus... Can't we stay married? Even after everything that's happened?"

At last, Marcus turned to face her fully. His brows drew together as though he couldn't understand her question. The faint impatience in his eyes stung more than any harsh words. He was still as handsome as ever, still the man who had once made Emma's heart skip a beat with a single glance.

"Why?"

Emma took a shaky breath and forced herself to meet his gaze through her tears.

"Because I love you. Marcus, I really do love you. Even if you don't feel the same way, I still want to be your wife."

Marcus let out a long breath, and irritation flickered across his face.

"I'm tired of this, Emma. You still don't understand. A marriage without love is nothing but a prison."

He lifted a hand as though drawing a line between them. Whatever patience he had left was gone.

"This marriage was a mistake from the beginning. You know better than anyone that I fought with my grandfather over it. My heart has always belonged to Rose. Back then, circumstances kept us apart, but she's returning soon, and when she does, I'm going to marry her. As for you, our three-year agreement has ended. It's time for you to leave."

Emma lowered her gaze. Tears dripped onto the documents spread across the table, leaving damp spots behind. She hurriedly wiped them away with trembling fingers. Marcus noticed, but he remained silent.

Just then, the vibration of a phone broke the tension in the room.

Marcus reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The moment he saw the caller's name, the coldness on his face melted away. His eyes softened, and his voice carried a warmth Emma had never received from him.

"Rose? You've already arrived at the airport?"

Madeline's cheerful voice immediately came through the phone. "That's right, Marcus! I'm finally back in Savrow."

A hint of surprise crossed Marcus's face.

"I thought your flight wasn't landing until tonight."

"I wanted to surprise you!"

"Stay where you are. I'll be there right away!"

The call ended, and Marcus immediately grabbed his jacket. He didn't look at Emma again. Moments later, the front door slammed shut behind him.

The silence he left behind cut deeper than anything he had said.

Standing alone in the room, Emma felt as though her heart had shattered once more. Everything she had done for the Sullivan family, every sacrifice she had made, and every year she had devoted to them suddenly seemed meaningless. To Marcus, the love she had given so freely was nothing more than a burden he couldn't wait to escape.

Without a second thought, he had left her behind to welcome back the woman he had loved since childhood, Madeline Grant.

Emma drew in a slow breath before letting out a bitter laugh. She shook her head as tears clouded her vision. Through the blur, Marcus's signature on the divorce papers gradually lost its shape.

By evening, Marcus arrived at Tideview Manor with Madeline cradled in his arms. The moment they entered, every eye in the room turned toward them. Dressed in an elegant gown that looked remarkably like a wedding dress, Madeline rested comfortably against his chest and let out a soft laugh.

"Marcus, we're not married yet. If Emma sees us like this, she'll probably end up hating me."

Marcus pulled her closer against him.

"She doesn't have the courage to do that. And even if she did, why should I care? I don't love her. She's nothing more than a wife on paper. She should've understood that from the start."

The Sullivan family welcomed Madeline with obvious excitement, surrounding her with smiles and warm greetings.

Meanwhile, Emma remained in the dining room. Just like countless times before, she quietly arranged the table by herself.

Marcus noticed her glance in his direction for a brief moment. A mocking smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Did she seriously believe that doing all of this would make him change his mind? How ridiculous.

Before he could think further, the butler hurried into the room.

"Mr. Sullivan! Your wife has left."

Marcus immediately frowned.

"Left? What do you mean? When did she leave?"

"Just a few minutes ago," the butler replied. "She didn't take any of her belongings. She only took off her apron and left through the back entrance. There was a black car waiting outside for her."

Marcus headed upstairs and entered their bedroom.

The room was exactly as he remembered it. Everything had been neatly arranged, without a single thing out of place. The divorce papers rested on the bedside table, already signed. Faint tear stains had dried across the pages.

He walked over to the window and looked outside. In the distance, a black Rolls-Royce disappeared into the night, carrying Emma farther and farther away from the life she had spent the last three years building. Within moments, the vehicle's taillights vanished from sight.

A trace of annoyance surfaced in Marcus's eyes.

Only this afternoon, she had been begging him not to walk away from her. Yet now, she was leaving without putting up any kind of fight?

He immediately took out his phone and called out to his secretary, "Look into a vehicle for me. License plate SA9999. I want to know who it belongs to."

A few minutes later, the answer arrived.

"Sir, that vehicle is registered to Isaiah Turner, the CEO of KS Group."

Marcus's expression stiffened.

Emma had spent the last three years isolated from almost everyone. She came from a small town, had no influential background, no powerful connections, and barely interacted with anyone outside the Sullivan family.

How could she possibly know Isaiah Turner, the successor of one of the most influential families in the country?

The secretary remained silent for a moment before speaking carefully.

"Sir... you told your wife about the divorce today, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," Marcus replied coldly. "Do you think I'd keep dragging out this meaningless marriage?"

"But... today's her birthday."

The color drained from Marcus's face.

Meanwhile, inside the Rolls-Royce, Emma sat curled up in her seat as tears streamed down her cheeks without restraint.

Isaiah reached over and gently held her hand.

"Ethan has arranged a fireworks show tonight. He wanted to celebrate your return."

Emma shook her head.

"I don't want to see anyone right now."

The woman sitting in the car was no longer Emma Brooks, the obedient wife who had spent three years trying to earn her husband's love.

She was Clara Turner again, the cherished daughter of the Turner family and the heiress of the powerful KS Group.

Unable to hold back any longer, Clara leaned against Isaiah's shoulder and cried.

Just then, her old phone vibrated.

She lowered her gaze and looked at the screen.

A message from Madeline had arrived.

"You took Marcus away from me. I told you before that I'd make him leave you one day. Marcus has always belonged to me. Don't even think about holding on to him anymore."

A bitter smile appeared on Clara's face. She slowly shook her head as fresh tears gathered in her eyes.

Isaiah wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her closer.

"Tell me the truth. After everything that's happened, do you still love him?"

Clara drew in an unsteady breath.

"Ash... today's my birthday."

Isaiah's expression darkened. "And that fool chose your birthday to abandon you. A man like that isn't worth another thought."

Clara lifted a hand and brushed away the tears on her face.

When she spoke again, her voice was calm, but every word carried a firmness that hadn't been there before. "It's over. Emma Brooks died today."

She slowly opened her eyes. The hesitation and heartbreak that had filled them earlier were gone, replaced by unwavering resolve.

The woman who had spent three years chasing Marcus's affection, sacrificing her pride, and enduring his indifference was gone.

She was Clara Turner, the Turner family's daughter and the future heir to a vast empire. She would never allow anyone to humiliate or trample over her again.

"If I ever go back to him," she said coldly. "Then I deserve every bit of what comes after."