Antonio didn't say a word. What could he say?
He had exhausted every word left in him.
He just stared at the ruined documents, his grip on Emily's arm tightening, but eventually, it got loose.
He released her arm, watching the smirk on Emily's face grow wider, almost reaching her ears.
This time, she wasn't stumbling off balance or slurring or giggling. Just the sheer triumph of one that tells you, "I was playing all along, just like I always do."
Antonio stormed out of the suite, slamming the door behind him with a loud crash.
The audacity.
Emily had the audacity, pouring whiskey on the divorce papers like that.
It was a childish, spiteful move, and it only fueled his determination to be done with her once and for all. Any method, any tactic—hell, he’d try them all
