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Adrian went cold. Bianca began crying, acting like she was the victim. But I had stayed silent for three years while Adrian humiliated me, while his mother called me useless, and while Bianca told me I had nothing to worry about. Not anymore.
I called my lawyer, Atty. Salazar, and asked him to prepare a court-ordered paternity test. Through the speaker, he confirmed the papers were ready — including the divorce settlement. Everyone froze. Adrian repeated, “Divorce settlement?” I looked at him and said, “Isn’t that what you wanted from the beginning?”
Three years earlier, Adrian had only married me because it was his grandmother Doña Elena’s final wish. I had cared for her during her last months, and after her funeral, Adrian told me we would live separate lives. He stayed in the main house. I stayed in the guest wing. For three years, we barely existed as husband and wife.
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When my lawyer sent Adrian the divorce papers, he tore them up twice. So I brought the third copy to Villareal Prime Holdings myself. His assistant said Adrian was in a board meeting. I replied, “Good. Then everyone can hear it together.”
In front of the board, I placed the divorce papers on the table and plugged a USB drive into the laptop. The screen showed CCTV footage of Bianca at a hotel on Valentine’s Day — not with Adrian, but with his half-brother, Rafael. Adrian turned pale. Then Rafael walked into the room, saw the screen, and froze.
