He opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat.
Alaina kept her gaze steady, her tone completely serious. "Call it alimony, or call it compensation for the last three years. Give me two million dollars. Does that sound unreasonable?"
"It's an insult," Ethan fired back instantly. "Even if I bankrupted my entire company to pay for these two legs, it wouldn't be enough."
Alaina smiled faintly. It was a bizarre form of validation, yet it only made her feel hollow.
She gave a nonchalant shrug. "Whether it's the marriage or your physical recovery, put a price tag on it. It makes things so much cleaner. You don't have to carry the moral guilt anymore. A clean break is best for everyone."
"A clean break..." Ethan muttered the words under his breath. He stood up, a dark chuckle escaping his lips as he shoved his hands into his pockets. All the fight seemed to drain out of him. "Fine. Whatever makes you happy."
"You've made your point. Let's drop it. I'll sleep in the guest room. Stay here until you're fully recovered. I'll feel better knowing the staff is keeping an eye on you."
With that, he walked out.
The bedroom fell dead silent. Alaina closed her eyes and let out a long, exhausted sigh.
Marrying him had been an uphill battle.
Divorcing him was proving to be exactly the same.
The next morning, she woke up and made her way downstairs.
She could hear the maids complaining in the kitchen about failing to replicate her recipes, terrified Ethan would scream at them again.
She walked in and patiently guided them through the steps.
Just as the maids tasted the perfect broth, a servant rushed in. "Ma'am, Ms. Summers is here."
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