The next morning, Celina was in her room finishing getting ready to go to the mall when her phone rang. She picked it up — César. Without hesitation, she declined the call.

It rang again. She declined once more.

On the third try, she exhaled sharply, annoyance breaking through, and finally answered.

“What do you want, César?” she snapped.

“Well, good morning to you too, wife,” he replied, his voice dripping with mockery.

“I’m not your wife anymore,” she shot back firmly.

“As long as you carry my last name, you are,” he said, his tone clipped and commanding. “We need to talk. I sent you an address. Meet me there in an hour. Only after that conversation will I sign the divorce papers. If you don’t show up, I’ll make sure this divorce never goes through.”

“There’s nothing left for us to talk about, César. I have an excellent lawyer. Whether you like it or not, this divorce is happening.”

“Oh, the lawyer Thor got for you?” he sneered. “Too soft, sweetheart. It’ll take someone far more com