Chapter 4

Ethan stumbled back a step, nearly losing his footing under the double blow.

"Our son just died, and you want a divorce?"

Looking at the devastation in his eyes, I found it hilarious.

"You were the one who had to find a dog. You were the one who ordered the roadblock. And now you're blaming me?"

"I didn't know it would be this serious!" his eyes welled with tears.

"Right. You didn't know," I said, my voice dead and flat. "After all, every time Leo had an episode, you managed to win the roll and leave to be with Scarlett."

Ethan choked on his words.

"Vivian, you're grieving. You can blame me all you want," he said, reaching out to pull me into his arms. "But there’s no need to talk about divorce. We've been together for five years."

"We've been married for five years, and we dated for seven before that," I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. "In all those years, did you ever once break your 'rules' for me?"

"I wanted to go back to the hospital, but you forced me to be your private doctor."

"I was in labor, and you left to bandage Scarlett’s sprained ankle."

"My mother got a concussion, and you were busy changing Scarlett’s flat tire."

"Ethan, as your wife, I never received an ounce of your care." My voice felt incredibly heavy. "Living under your version of 'fairness' has exhausted me."

Ethan stared at me for a long time. The guilt in his eyes slowly hardened into cold arrogance.

"Are you sure about this?"

I nodded. I didn't even have the energy to say "yes" anymore.

"Then we do this the old-fashioned way." His voice was freezing. "If you win the roll, I’ll sign."

He held out the golden die.

The same die I had quietly slipped back into his coat pocket earlier.

"To keep it fair, you roll first."

Under his confident gaze, I rolled. For the first time in our marriage, it landed on a perfect 6.

"How is that possible?" His eyes went wide. "How did you roll a six?"

"Why not? What did you expect me to roll, Mr. Cross? A one?"

I casually manipulated the hidden pin inside the metal, rolling it again. It stopped precisely on the single red dot.

Ethan stared at me, dumbfounded.

"Just tell me what number you want. I can make it land on whatever you desire."

I slammed the die onto the marble coffee table, picked up a heavy metal trophy, and smashed it to pieces. A tiny metal pin rolled out and stopped near his shoe.

I picked it up and held it in front of his face.

"Five years, Ethan. You used this cheap trick to toy with my life for five years."

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but I raised a hand to cut him off.

"Save your breath. You play, you accept the loss. I'll have the divorce papers sent to your office once I sign them."

"Fine. Great." Ethan laughed bitterly, his pride wounded. "Then pack your bags and get the hell out of my house. You want a divorce? You leave with absolutely nothing."

I never planned on taking a single dime of his dirty money anyway.

But as I dragged my suitcase toward the door, he called out to me.

"I just called the hospital," he said coldly. "Leo’s body belongs to me. You have no right to touch him."

"What did you say?"

"He carries the Cross name. And you're just an unemployed housewife," Ethan sneered. "You don't even have the money to buy him a proper casket. What makes you think you're qualified to handle his funeral?"

I marched back and slapped him across the face.

"Are you even human? You're using our son's body to force me back?"

"So what if I am?" Ethan wiped a smear of blood from his lip. "If you take back the divorce, I'll let you attend his funeral."

"Go to hell!" My chest heaved. "You are the monster who killed Leo. You don't deserve to touch him!"

"Fine," Ethan shrugged. "Let's make a bet. Winner calls the shots."

"Three days from now, on the VIP cruise ship in the harbor. I'll be waiting." He stepped closer, whispering in my ear, "But the buy-in is five hundred thousand dollars. Can an unemployed doctor like you even afford the seat?"

That night, I dialed the international line for St. Mary's Hospital in Germany.

"Five hundred thousand dollars for a three-year contract, plus my exclusive patent for the cardiac formula. You get me and the formula. It's a win-win."