- Chapter 12
- Sebastian Sinclair kicked open the bedroom door, only to find it empty. The vanity was neatly lined with skincare products—except for her favorite rose perfume, which was missing.
- His phone lit up with a message from Isabella Whitlock: “Sebastian, did Eleanor go back to her parents’ place?”
- Gritting his teeth, he yanked off his tie, his gaze landing on the glaring document atop the nightstand. The gilded words “Prenup Agreement” burned his eyes.
- “Eleanor Knight!” He dialed her number, his voice laced with fury.
- Her cool tone answered. “What is it, Mr. Sinclair?”
- “Are you done with this tantrum?” He snatched up the papers. “You’re filing for divorce just because I didn’t come home?”
- Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows where Eleanor stood, her fingers brushing the leaves of a newly bought plant.
- “You misunderstand,” she said lightly. “I’m not asking. I’m informing you.”
- Sebastian flipped through the agreement, his pupils constricting. On the last page was his own signature—dated three months prior.
- “Impossible!” His voice shook. “When did I sign this?”
- “The night of the quarterly celebration.” Eleanor pulled up the security footage on her tablet. “Should I send you the video?”
- The screen showed him, drunk, with Isabella draped over his arm as he carelessly signed the document. Eleanor had stood nearby, calmly collecting it afterward.
- A cold sweat broke across Sebastian’s forehead. He’d been wasted that night, but this—
- “You set me up!” He hurled the papers to the ground. “I won’t acknowledge this!”
- “Suit yourself.” She took a sip of coffee. “The lawyer’s notice will arrive at your office tomorrow.”
- The dial tone hit him like a slap. As he stared at the scattered pages, his eyes caught a line of red ink beside the asset division clause:
- “Down payment for Ms. Whitlock’s apartment has been reclaimed.”
- His blood ran cold.
She had known everything.
