You came back from shopping, exhausted—your hands full of bags, your mind heavier than all of them. You thought this would be your final move against him… or rather, away from him. You’d spent five million dollars on purpose, hoping it would push him over the edge, make him furious enough to finally say it: You’re divorced.

But when you stepped into the room, he was sitting there, relaxed on the couch, calm in a way that made your skin crawl. He looked up at you slowly, a mocking smile curling his lips.

He stood, his steps measured, deliberate, until he was close enough that you could feel his gaze pressing against your skin. Then he spoke, voice dripping with amusement.

“Did you really spend five million dollars?”

You tried to sound confident, ready with a sharp reply—but before you could speak, he added, his smile deepening,

“You should’ve spent more than that, darling. That’s not even half my money.”

You froze. All your plans, every attempt to push him toward divorce, seemed pointless in front of his cold composure. He was playing the game his way, and somehow, you realized—you were the one being consumed by it.