She really left!

Kamila took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. "I'm going to pack my things. I’d be sleeping in the guest room tonight."

"Oh, no, you won’t!" Beth exclaimed, gripping her arm. "You're not going to take a single thing that my son bought for you. You've been nothing but a burden to this family, and now you have the nerve to ask for a divorce?"

Kamila wrenched her arm free. "You have no idea what I've been through. Mark was an ordinary man when I met him, and I helped build that company, I helped build him up. That's why he's wealthy today."

Beth's face contorted with rage. "How dare you take credit for my son's hard work? He built that company from the ground up, and you were just a lucky little orphan he decided to take in and polish up!"

Kamila felt the anger boiling within her, and in a moment of defiance, she reached up and yanked the golden wedding band off her finger, throwing it at Mark's feet.

"That’s your stupid ring Mark. And don’t worry, I won't be taking anything that's not mine. "I'll be out of this house by tomorrow morning."

Mark, who had been too stunned to speak, suddenly burst out. "You're bluffing, Kamila," he said, his voice rising in pitch. "You're not going anywhere. You have nowhere to go! You're just a poor orphan. You need me, us, to take care of you."

Kamila scoffed. "I do not need you."

She simply turned and made her way to the guest room. Quickly, she began to pack her things, shoving them into a small suitcase. Everything that Mark had bought for her, the expensive jewelry, the designer clothes, the luxury handbags, she left them all behind. She didn't need any of it.

Very early the next morning, she slipped out of the house silently.

As Mark got ready for work, he kept telling himself that Kamila's head would have cooled down by now. Surely, she couldn't be serious about this whole divorce thing.

With that in mind, he made his way to the guest room. "Kamila, wake up! I need to have my breakfast before I head out," he called out banging on the door loudly.

But there was no response.

Furrowing his brow, he pushed the door open, expecting to find Kamila still asleep. But to his shock, the room was empty. There was no trace of her or her belongings anywhere.

"What the..." he muttered, stepping into the room and looking around frantically. He checked the closet, the bathroom, and even under the bed, but there was no sign of her.

Panic began to set in as he realized that she had truly left. He quickly moved to the other rooms and then bumped into his mother.

"What's wrong, Mark?" she asked with concern.

"She's gone, Mom," Mark said, his voice laced with disbelief. "Kamila's really freaking left!"

Beth's eyes widened, and a smug smile crept across her face. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. That girl has never been good enough for you, Mark. I always knew she was trouble."

Mark clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists. "Save it, Mom," he snapped. "I don't have time for this right now."

Just then, the doorbell rang, and Mark hurried to answer it.

"Who the hell could that be?" he muttered, striding towards the entryway.

Yanking open the door, he was met with the sight of a well-dressed man holding a briefcase.

"Can I help you?" Mark asked gruffly.

The man offered him a polite smile. "Good morning, Mr.

Cadet. My name is Samuel Jacobs, and I'm an attorney. I'm here to deliver some important documents from your wife, Kamila."

"Documents?" he echoed.

"Yes, sir," the lawyer replied, opening his briefcase and withdrawing a thick envelope. "These are divorce papers. Ms. Kamila instructed me to deliver them to you as soon as possible."

Mark glared at the envelope in the lawyer's outstretched hand, every fiber of his being rejecting the idea of accepting it. This had to be some sick joke.

"Mark? What's going on?" Beth asked, stepping up behind him.

Mark turned to face her, his expression pained. "Mom, Kamila's really filed for divorce."

Beth's hand flew up to cover her mouth. "Oh, that ungrateful bitch," she breathed, her gaze shifting to the envelope in the lawyer's hand.

Mark turned back to the lawyer, his voice low and dangerous. "You can tell my wife that I'm not signing these goddamn papers. She can't just run away and expect me to accept this. I should be the one divorcing her sorry ass not her!."

Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled out his phone and dialed Kamila's number. It rang once, twice, three times, and then...

"What do you want, Mark?" Kamila's voice was clipped and impatient.

Mark felt a surge of anger. "What the fuck, Kamila?" he snapped. "Why the hell did you send these divorce papers?"

There was silence on the other end of the line, the rustling of bed sheets and then finally an exasperated sigh.

"It's just past seven in the morning. You just disturbed my beauty sleep."

Mark felt his blood boil. "Fuck your beauty sleep, Kamila," he growled. "Just answer the damn question"

Kamila sighed, her voice dripping with exasperation. "Can't you read, Mr. Cadet?" she said, her tone mocking. "It's a simple instruction. Sign them."