chapter4

The silence in the room was brittle. Suzanne met Nathan’s frosty gaze with a courage she didn't know she possessed. “I’m serious,” she repeated, her voice steadier now. “Let’s get divorced.”

For three years, she had built an idealized version of this man in her heart. She had wanted a marriage based on truth, but the revelation of Sally’s presence—and Nathan’s silence—had tainted that dream. She would rather be alone than be a placeholder.

Nathan’s expression darkened, but it was his aide, Cole, who stepped forward with a look of visible disdain.

“Suzanne York,” Cole began, his voice clinical as he read from a digital file. “Born in Phoenicia. Daughter of an alcoholic with a family history of systemic debt and gambling. You dropped out of school early and have a history of questionable associations and employment in the city’s red-light districts.”

Suzanne felt a cold sweat break across her skin. The words felt like physical blows.

Cole continued relentlessly, listing a litany of accusations: failed marriages to elderly men for perceived gain, a string of scandalous relationships, and a series of cosmetic enhancements. “You purposefully approached Mrs. Morrison three years ago, weaving a web of lies to infiltrate this family and secure a title you don't deserve. You are a social climber who used a grandmother’s affection to trap a General.”

The room felt small. Suzanne felt as though her very dignity had been stripped away, leaving her exposed to their judgment. She clenched her fists so hard her nails drew blood from her palms.

Nathan remained impassive. To him, the marriage had always been a strategic obligation to please his grandmother. The details of Suzanne’s supposed "dirty history" didn't shock him; they only confirmed his low opinion of her.

Suzanne forced a bitter smile through the shame. “Mr. Morrison, I lost my memory three years ago. I have heard rumors of who I was, but I have no recollection of that person.” She looked him in the eye. “I don't know why I made those choices, and I am truly sorry you were pressured into this union. If I am as unworthy as your files suggest, then divorce is the only logical solution.”

Nathan slowly approached the bed. His presence was suffocating, a wall of pure authority that made the air feel thin. He leaned in, a sneer curling his lips. “I will decide when this marriage ends. Not you.”

The realization stung. Was she just a prop? A tool to keep his grandmother satisfied while he lived his real life with someone else?

“I may not know who I was,” Suzanne retorted, her eyes shimmering with tears of frustration, “but the woman standing here today will not sacrifice her soul for your wealth. I will not live in a loveless house.”

Nathan scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt. “You speak of dignity? After everything we just read?”

“If you won't grant me a divorce,” Suzanne continued, ignoring his jab, “then you must act like a husband. Clear the other women from your life. Live with me properly, or I will take this to your grandmother myself. I will ensure she understands that you are the one making this difficult.”

Nathan’s face hardened into a mask of fury. He moved suddenly, pinning her against the headboard. The scent of him—woodsmoke and cold steel—surrounded her, sending her heart into a frantic rhythm.

“W-What are you doing?” she whispered, her breath catching as the distance between them vanished.