Chapter 2 · He Miscalculated Me

Chapter 2

"Don't play games. It's not going to end well for you," Tyrone said.

I didn't bother responding.

I turned away and walked into the bedroom.

The only thing in this house that's actually mine was a suitcase.

It was the same one I carried in when I married into this family five years ago, my heart bursting with hope.

Now, it was still only half full.

I zipped it up and dragged it out of the bedroom.

Tyrone was still sitting at the dining table, his face like thunder as he glared at me.

I walked to the entrance and put on my own shoes.

Not once did I look back at him.

Just as my hand touched the doorknob, I paused.

A flicker of understanding crossed Tyrone's eyes.

He probably thought I'd finally lower my guard and beg for forgiveness.

Instead, I simply took my house key out of my pocket.

And quietly placed it on the cabinet by the door.

Then I opened the door and stepped out.

The door closed silently behind me.

And just like that, my foolish eight years of youth came to an end.

I walked out of that luxury apartment building.

The evening breeze was cool against my skin.

Not even a hint of sadness touched me.

All I felt was pure relief.

It was like breaking free from a five-year prison.

I flagged down a cab and went straight to the hotel I'd already booked.

After a long, hot shower, I slipped into some fresh clothes, feeling like I'd finally washed away the past.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

My face was a bit pale, and there were tired circles under my eyes.

But my eyes were shining with unexpected clarity, like a pearl once buried in dust, finally wiped clean and gleaming again.

My phone buzzed.

It was a private message from Tyrone. [Delete the contact. We'll never contact each other again.]

His words were full of arrogance, like he was giving orders from on high.

He probably thought I'd still be hung up on him after the divorce.

So he had to make the first move, making sure I couldn't even think about looking back.

What a joke.

He always thought the world revolved around him.

I stared at the screen, my fingertip tapping against it.

I replied with a single word.

Then I put my phone down and turned off the lights.

It was a dreamless night.

The next morning, I was woken up by my phone ringing.

It was a string of harassing calls, all from Tyrone.

I just put it on silent and tossed it aside.

I got up, washed up, and put on a crisp, professional suit.

The woman staring back at me in the mirror had piercing eyes and a powerful aura.

This was me—Whitney, as I truly am.

My phone kept buzzing non-stop.

After Tyrone's calls, then Nyla started calling.

I kept ignoring them.

This divorce was set in stone. Not even God could stop me—mark my words.

There was a car waiting for me outside the hotel.

The driver opened the door for me with a polite nod. "Good morning, Ms. Morrow."

I slipped into the car, my tone indifferent as ever. "Morning."

The car drove steadily toward downtown.

I closed my eyes and started thinking about today's work.

It had been five years since I walked away from the company I started myself.

I didn't know what it had turned into these days.

Finally, my phone went quiet.

Instead, a text message popped up.

It was from Tyrone's sister, Emily Guerra.

Emily texted: [Whitney, what's your deal? Why aren't you answering my brother's calls? Are you trying to play some mind games or what? Let me tell you, it's not going to work! Just delete him from WhatsApp already and stop hogging the spot if you're not interested!]

Her words were as sharp and cutting as ever.

For the past five years, she was always quick to throw shade at me.

Every word oozed contempt, like I was just some nobody who didn't deserve her hotshot brother pulling in 300 grand a year.

I couldn't even be bothered to reply.

I just blocked her number too.

Now, I could finally enjoy some peace.

The car pulled up in front of a grand office building.

I looked up and saw the big, bold letters "Universal Tech" shone brightly in the morning light.

That was my company. I was back.

As I stepped into the lobby, the receptionist was momentarily taken aback when she saw me.

She immediately composed herself with a professional smile. "May I ask who you're here to see, ma'am?"

"I'm looking for..." I began.

Before I could finish, a young woman in a suit hurried out of the elevator.

When she saw me, her eyes lit up and she jogged over. "Ms. Morrow! You're finally back!"

It was my assistant, Vivian Lindsay.

Five years ago, she was just a fresh-faced rookie straight out of college.

Now, she looked like a total pro—confident and polished, as if she belonged at the top.

The receptionist's jaw nearly hit the floor.

She looked at me like she couldn't believe her eyes, then shot a look at Vivian.

Vivian didn't even spare her a glance. She just turned to me, her voice full of excitement. "Ms. Morrow, the conference room is all set. Everyone's waiting for you."

Chapter 2

"Don't play games. It's not going to end well for you," Tyrone said.

I didn't bother responding.

I turned away and walked into the bedroom.

The only thing in this house that's actually mine was a suitcase.

It was the same one I carried in when I married into this family five years ago, my heart bursting with hope.

Now, it was still only half full.

I zipped it up and dragged it out of the bedroom.

Tyrone was still sitting at the dining table, his face like thunder as he glared at me.

I walked to the entrance and put on my own shoes.

Not once did I look back at him.

Just as my hand touched the doorknob, I paused.

A flicker of understanding crossed Tyrone's eyes.

He probably thought I'd finally lower my guard and beg for forgiveness.

Instead, I simply took my house key out of my pocket.

And quietly placed it on the cabinet by the door.

Then I opened the door and stepped out.

The door closed silently behind me.

And just like that, my foolish eight years of youth came to an end.

I walked out of that luxury apartment building.

The evening breeze was cool against my skin.

Not even a hint of sadness touched me.

All I felt was pure relief.

It was like breaking free from a five-year prison.

I flagged down a cab and went straight to the hotel I'd already booked.

After a long, hot shower, I slipped into some fresh clothes, feeling like I'd finally washed away the past.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

My face was a bit pale, and there were tired circles under my eyes.

But my eyes were shining with unexpected clarity, like a pearl once buried in dust, finally wiped clean and gleaming again.

My phone buzzed.

It was a private message from Tyrone. [Delete the contact. We'll never contact each other again.]

His words were full of arrogance, like he was giving orders from on high.

He probably thought I'd still be hung up on him after the divorce.

So he had to make the first move, making sure I couldn't even think about looking back.

What a joke.

He always thought the world revolved around him.

I stared at the screen, my fingertip tapping against it.

I replied with a single word.

Then I put my phone down and turned off the lights.

It was a dreamless night.

The next morning, I was woken up by my phone ringing.

It was a string of harassing calls, all from Tyrone.

I just put it on silent and tossed it aside.

I got up, washed up, and put on a crisp, professional suit.

The woman staring back at me in the mirror had piercing eyes and a powerful aura.

This was me—Whitney, as I truly am.

My phone kept buzzing non-stop.

After Tyrone's calls, then Nyla started calling.

I kept ignoring them.

This divorce was set in stone. Not even God could stop me—mark my words.

There was a car waiting for me outside the hotel.

The driver opened the door for me with a polite nod. "Good morning, Ms. Morrow."

I slipped into the car, my tone indifferent as ever. "Morning."

The car drove steadily toward downtown.

I closed my eyes and started thinking about today's work.

It had been five years since I walked away from the company I started myself.

I didn't know what it had turned into these days.

Finally, my phone went quiet.

Instead, a text message popped up.

It was from Tyrone's sister, Emily Guerra.

Her words were as sharp and cutting as ever.

For the past five years, she was always quick to throw shade at me.

Every word oozed contempt, like I was just some nobody who didn't deserve her hotshot brother pulling in 300 grand a year.

I couldn't even be bothered to reply.

I just blocked her number too.

Now, I could finally enjoy some peace.

The car pulled up in front of a grand office building.

I looked up and saw the big, bold letters "Universal Tech" shone brightly in the morning light.

That was my company. I was back.

As I stepped into the lobby, the receptionist was momentarily taken aback when she saw me.

She immediately composed herself with a professional smile. "May I ask who you're here to see, ma'am?"

"I'm looking for..." I began.

Before I could finish, a young woman in a suit hurried out of the elevator.

When she saw me, her eyes lit up and she jogged over. "Ms. Morrow! You're finally back!"

It was my assistant, Vivian Lindsay.

Five years ago, she was just a fresh-faced rookie straight out of college.

Now, she looked like a total pro—confident and polished, as if she belonged at the top.

The receptionist's jaw nearly hit the floor.

She looked at me like she couldn't believe her eyes, then shot a look at Vivian.

Vivian didn't even spare her a glance. She just turned to me, her voice full of excitement. "Ms. Morrow, the conference room is all set. Everyone's waiting for you."