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When Lucas pushed the divorce papers in front of me for the 108th time, I had already been reborn. "Serena, we've been over for a long time. Let's keep this dignified and stop dragging it out." In my past life, consumed by bitterness, I clung to the title of Mrs. Sterling like a lifeline. I didn't let go until his illegitimate child was born, which pushed me into a complete, hysterical breakdown. In response, he had me forcibly committed to a private psychiatric facility in Upstate New York. He only came to see me once, right as I was dying. "If I had known you'd become this paranoid, I never would have married you out of some ridiculous sense of duty." This time around, nothing matters more to me than my own life. "Ivy is pregnant. Name your price—anything you want, except the title of Mrs. Sterling." Lucas glanced down at his Patek Philippe watch. "If we can't reach an agreement today, we'll table it. But I will keep handing you these papers until you finally—" I cut him off.