The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Charm

Chapter 14

Zara

I pause outside of Knox’s lawyer’s office building. I catch my reflection briefly in the window, not out of vanity or even out of habit, but out of quiet recognition.

There was a time when I would have thought about my appearance. I’d have agonized about what Knox might notice, what he might dismiss, what might make him look at me for even a second longer than necessary.

Today, I didn’t bother with any of that nonsense. I’m in my favorite jeans, a loose cream sweater, a long red coat. My hair is pulled back into a careless ponytail that I didn’t try to fix when it settled unevenly. Minimal makeup, just enough to feel like myself and not someone I constructed for someone else’s approval.

I give my reflection a little wink, then head into the building, and up to the 29th floor.

“Good morning,” the receptionist says. “Mrs. McVale?”

“Ms. Callahan,” I correct her. “And it is indeed a good morning.”

She blinks. “Ms. Callahan, my apologies. This way please.”

I follow her down the hallway, and when she opens the door and gestures me inside, I step through without hesitation.

Knox stands near the center of the room, his presence filling it in the way it always has, controlled and contained and built on the assumption that everything around him will eventually align to match that control.

Our lawyers sit at the table, and both are already tense. They’re looking at Knox in a way that suggests this meeting hasn’t gone how it was supposed to, even before I even walked in.

“Ms. Callahan,” my lawyer says, rising slightly. “Please sit down.”

Knox’s eyes flash freezing-cold blue. “She’s Mrs. McVale. I haven’t signed shit, so my name

stands.”

I ignore him and extend my hand to his lawyer. “How do you do? I’m Zara Callahan.”

“Erm.” He shoots a panicked look at his stony-faced client, clears his throat. “Please sit Ms. Calla – Mrs. Mc – um. Please sit.”

I give him a beaming smile and take a seat, calmly fold my hands on the table. And I wait,

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Chapter 14

confident that I won’t be waiting long. Sure enough:

Claim

“You signed the papers,” Knox says. “Who the fuck do you think you are, to want to divorce me?”

“Mr. McVale,” his lawyer begins quickly, “we should -”

Knox doesn’t even look at him. “I asked you a fucking question.”

I c**k my head at him, then turn to Mr. Meade. “Please inform Mr. McVale that I don’t have to answer his questions, nor do I have to speak to him directly. Also, if the profanity carries on, I’m leaving.”

My lawyer bites back a grin. “Mr. McVale, my client says

“Yeah, yeah,” Knox snaps. “I heard what your fucking… um…. what your client said.”

“Mr. McVale,” his lawyer interjects, looking panicked. “Please, let us handle this.”

Knox huffs, crosses his arms, and turns to glare out the window. The two lawyers glance at him uneasily, then return their attention to the papers in front of them.

“Now, Mrs. Mc – erm, your client has signed the divorce papers,” Knox’s lawyer says to mine. “And she hasn’t contested anything.”

“Correct,” Mr. Meade says. “She’s simply waiting for Mr. McVale to sign.”

“Well, she’ll be waiting a while!” Knox whirls to face me again. “I haven’t signed, and I won’t.”

“Mr. McVale,” his lawyer tries again, more firmly now. “Please, let’s keep this -”

“If I don’t sign,” Knox continues, ignoring the subtle shake of his lawyer’s head. “Your client doesn’t get the payout. Ten thousand a year, just gone.”

And there it is. The control. The leverage. The thing that he believes will pull everything back into place.

The conference room stills, the three men just waiting and watching. And I can feel the weight of his statements hanging there, feel what he expects them to do. I’m supposed to come to heel now.

Well. Fuck that.

I turn my head slightly toward my lawyer. “Please tell Mr. McVale that’s perfectly okay with me.”

For a second, no one speaks. Then Knox says to me:

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Chapter 14

“That’s not your decision. It’s not up to you what happens.”

“Please tell Mr. McVale that it certainly is,” I reply quietly.

His lawyer exhales, running a hand over his face. “Mr. McVale, this isn’t productive -”

Clam

“I’m not negotiating with you, Zara,” Knox snaps, the edge in his voice breaking through now. I’m not giving you a penny if you stay away. But if you come home, we can just pick up where we left off. We can just forget about all of this.”

There’s a pause, a space where something is supposed to happen, where I’m meant to crumble in shock and fear and regret. I’m supposed to do something, and I understand, suddenly, exactly what he’s waiting for.

The old me. The version of me who would have felt loss, like something slipping through her fingers, like proof that she needed to hold on tighter, push harder, stay longer.

But that version of me, she’s already long gone. Two months ago, she died in the twisted metal of a fiery car crash, and yesterday I killed her in a different way, with sunflowers and music and light-yellow paint.

A slow breath leaves me, and I turn to Mr. Meade. “Please inform Mr. McVale that I’m not doing any of that.”

For a moment, Knox looks at me… really looks. I can see it then, the realization settling in layers. I’m not reacting the way that I always have, I’m not reaching for him, I’m not pushing back in a way that gives him something to work with.

I’m just… done. And he finally knows it.

“You’re actually walking away from everything,” he says in utter disbelief. “For real.”

I hold his gaze, say nothing.

Knox exhales sharply. “That’s not how this ends.”

I stand up, and give him a gentle smile. “It just did.”

And then, before he can reshape it, before he can turn it into something else, before the moment stretches into something unnecessary, I walk out the door.

I exit the building slowly, the cool air sharp against my face. The city moves around me without hesitation – traffic shifting, footsteps passing, lights changing the same as it did yesterday, the same as it will tomorrow. It’s indifferent to what just happened, to what just

ended.

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