Divorce Me Before Death Takes Me, CEO

Chapter 8: What Do You Want This Time?

Audrey’s POV

I studied Blake’s face as he sat in the chair beside my hospital bed, the familiar aristocratic features that had once meant everything to me, the cold detachment in his eyes evident. Five years of loving this man, and now all I felt was a vast emptiness inside.

“So, you really want a divorce?”

I let my gaze drift around the room. “Yes,” I said quietly, surprised by the steadiness in my own voice. “This time, I really want a divorce.”

I met his gaze steadily, surprised by how calm I felt. “You must’ve seen the papers I left, right?”

With a sudden movement, he pulled out the old divorce agreement I’d left at the Lunar mansion and threw it at my face. The papers scattered across my hospital blanket like fallen leaves.

“Three years ago, you refused twenty million to leave. Now you’re not only asking for divorce but claiming you’ll leave with nothing?” His voice dripped with disdain. “Audrey Sinclair, at least make your act believable.”

The divorce papers felt heavy in my hands, like the weight of all my past declarations of love. Three years ago, when he’d first woken from his coma, I had refused to divorce him. Not because twenty million wasn’t enough – money had never been what kept me by his side. I couldn’t leave him then because I loved him too much.

How ironic that my devotion from back then had become his weapon of mockery today.

A bitter smile curved my lips as I gathered the scattered papers. “Isn’t it better if I leave with nothing?”

Blake’s expression flickered for a moment before settling back into its usual mask of indifference. “It would be good if you really wanted to leave with nothing,” he said coldly. “But we both know that’s not true. Tell me, what do you want this time?”

“You think everything I do is about wanting something from you?”

“Isn’t it always?” He moved closer, his expensive cologne filling the air between us. “Is this about Laurel? Are you trying to force my hand?”

I almost laughed. Of course he would think this was about Laurel. Everything in his world revolved around Laurel Rose, Hollywood’s returning princess. The woman he’d been waiting for all along.

I said softly. “This isn’t about Laurel. This is about

his sarcasm. “And what reality

words came easier than I expected. “It was all just

up, his tall frame casting a shadow over my hospital bed.

bit my lip

return from Europe, I’d done nothing but try to step away from this marriage. Yet Blake still assumed I would target

was his second warning about

it

out of the hospital right now,” I said slowly, meeting his cold gaze. “Let’s

worry about me bothering your

Return to the Lunar mansion within

“Blake Parker!”

pause, his tall figure striding toward the door with practiced

something inside me finally shattered. A familiar metallic taste flooded my mouth, warm and thick. He didn’t look back, not even when the first drops

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urgent voices of the medical team rushed past him in the hallway – them running to save a life, him walking away from one. The contrast would have made me laugh

five years loving

you need to eat

window in shades of purple and gold. She sat beside my bed, a container of homemade vegetable soup steaming on

continued, watching me with worried eyes. “Though honestly, you’ve been sleeping so

a weak smile. “It’s just fatigue from the

worse after a week of rest. I

hurt as much as

he wants,” I said, pushing myself up to sit. “I’ve made my