“Sign the divorce papers now! I’m sick of looking at your bloated, milk-stained body! I need a young trophy wife worthy of my CEO status, not a pathetic housewife like you!” My husband threw divorce papers in my face while I was still bleeding from an emergency C-section. He brought his mistress secretary to mock me. He didn’t know his CEO title was just a puppet role I created, and I was the real Chairman who owned everything.

CHAPTER 3: THE SIGNATURE OF WAR

The second he threatened my children, everything inside me snapped into focus.

This wasn’t a failing marriage.

This was a hostile takeover.

And Anna Vance didn’t lose wars.

I opened the folder. My eyes moved fast—trained—reading legal language the way other people read headlines.

One section was highlighted in yellow.

CLAUSE 4: ASSET DIVISION
Assets will be permanently separated based on legal title. Each party retains sole ownership of any property, real estate, or corporate holdings registered under their name. No community claims.

Mark looked pleased with himself—like he’d just locked the vault.

He thought the CEO seat meant ownership.

He’d forgotten the oldest rule of Vance Global:

Power isn’t posture.
It’s paperwork.

“You’re sure you want this?” I asked quietly. “Total separation by title. No reversals.”

“Stop delaying,” Mark snapped. “Sign it. Or I walk, and my attorneys replace me.”

I glanced at Chloe. “And you’re comfortable with this?”

Chloe’s smile sharpened. “Mark is exceptional, Anna. He needs someone who can keep pace. Don’t be pathetic.”

“Pathetic?” I echoed. “No. I’m awake.”

I picked up the pen.

My hand was steady.

I signed: Anna Vance.

I closed the folder, kept my copy, and tossed the original back at Mark.

“Done,” I said. “You’re free.”

He snatched it, scanning my signature like a child counting stolen candy. “Finally. I should’ve cut you loose last year.”

“Get out,” I said. “Take your little upgrade and leave my room. You’re poisoning the air my children breathe.”

Mark laughed. “Gladly. I’ve got an empire to run. Enjoy the diapers and spit-up.”

He left.

Chloe’s heels clicked after him.

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