CHAPTER 2 The Divorce Agreement

　　Vanessa woke up with a thumping in her head. Her eyes throbbed and her ears rang as she rose from the bed, struggling to remember the events of the night before.

　　She felt sore all over, but most importantly between her legs. Horror filled her as she reached between her thighs and felt a sticky wetness. She brought out her hand, trembling at the whitish liquid, semen.

　　Tears filled her eyes, "No…no, it can't be. Where am I?" She looked around and some things started coming back to her.

　　The hotel suite. Joe!

　　"It must have been Joe. There's no other explanation," she thought.

　　Just then, she turned and saw a man lying beside her. She was scared and she closed her eyes. "This is not Joe," She could not believe that she slept with a strange man last night.

　　When she slowly turned her head again, she opened one eye and saw the sleeping face of a strange man. He was handsome, but who was this guy?

　　Vanessa got up from the bed, and in any case, she must leave the hotel before the strange man woke up.

　　***

　　Joe was pacing around the living room, his eyebrows furrowed.

　　"This is the Divorce Agreement, sign it, and you will get what you deserve," he said with a straight face as soon as Vanessa walked in and sat down.

　　"Why?" she muttered as tears welled up in her eyes, "Why did you do it?"

　　The tears finally dropped, fat tears rolling off her cheeks. He said nothing. He only picked up a document and stretched it to her.

　　Her gaze dropped to the document and her heart dropped into her stomach. Boldly written on it is ‘Divorce Agreement'. Vanessa could not hold it anymore. Tears began to fall from her eyes.

　　She raised her eyes to him, studying him through blurry vision, "What have I done to deserve this?"

　　She just arrived home, and her legs were still shaking because of what happened last night.

　　"Clarissa is back," Joe said, his face still expressionless.

　　"Clarissa Fletcher is back, of course. That's why you sent me to another man's bed so that you can have enough evidence to divorce?" she thought to herself, not having enough guts to say it out to his face.

　　Clarissa is Joe's first lover. She was in poor health and unable to bear children, which automatically disqualified her from marrying him, seeing as he was the only heir of the Warren family.

　　He would need to have children, after all, therefore, he could not marry a barren woman.

　　Joe was helpless. All he could do was send her abroad for treatment.

　　“I see, but you are not necessary to humiliate me like this. I owe you my life so I will leave whenever you asked.” Vanessa said in a cracked voice.

　　Joe felt confused about what she said but he did not ask anything.

　　Vanessa was in a car accident a few years ago, and when she was saved by Joe she could not remember anything, even her name. Joe rescued her, gave a place for her to live, and gave her a new name, Vanessa.

　　As time went on, the girl Vanessa developed feelings for Joe. She knew that Joe still loved Clarissa, and she never thought to get involved in their relationship.

　　What’s more, to help Joe get the inheritance, Vanessa even accepted the contracted marriage to him.

　　Now, the man whom she loved with all her heart was standing in front of her with a straight face, asking her to sign the divorce agreement.

　　Wordlessly, she picked up the pen resting on the document and applied her signature. She dropped it and made her way into her room.

　　She began to methodically put all of her belongings into a suitcase. Shoes, clothes, toiletries, in they went. As she zipped up the suitcase, something caught her attention.

　　A framed picture of them on their wedding day. She put it into the box. After all, he would have no use for it.

　　Vanessa dragged the suitcase out of the room and into the sitting room.

　　As she made her way to the door, he grabbed her wrist. She yanked it away, waiting for him to say something.

　　In his other hand was a black card, "Take it. It contains enough to have you on your feet before long."

　　She spared it a glance, looked into his eyes, then turned her back on him, walking away without a second thought.

　　Joe stood there, watching Vanessa go. Something in him told him to stop her, but his legs wouldn't move.

　　"What am I doing?" he thought.

　　Finally, his legs unfroze and he wanted to go after her. He stopped in his tracks when the phone in his hand vibrated with a call. Glancing at the caller ID, he saw it was Clarissa.

　　"Are you ready?"

　　"Yes, I am. Come pick me up now," Clarissa replied on the other end.

　　"I'm on my way."

　　He slipped the phone into his pocket, grabbed his car keys, and left the house.

　　Meanwhile, Vanessa stood in front of his gate, waiting to hail a cab.

　　"I might as well cross the road, I should be able to get a cab before he comes out and meets me here," she thought.

　　She was barely halfway to the other side when a black van zoomed out from the other side of the street, headed straight for her. She froze in fear, her heart beating erratically.

　　The van hits her, sending her flying across the road, her luggage sprawling to the side of the street, contents in disarray. The van zoomed off without missing a beat.

　　By providence, the framed picture landed beside her, shattered, the picture out of its gilded frame.

　　"Joe," she whispered, reaching for it. Her fingers were shaky and stained with blood, which smeared across the picture when she grabbed it.

　　Vanessa reached for her box, trying to use it to pull herself up, all to no avail. Every part of her body screamed in hot white pain.

　　The gates opened and Joe drove out in a black sedan without paying attention to anything.

　　His mind was fully occupied with Clarissa, who was waiting for him, so much so that he did not see Vanessa sprawled on the side of the road, slowly bleeding out.

　　***

　　Inside the van that hit Vanessa, a phone rang and the driver picked it up.

　　"What is the situation of things?" a female voice asked.

　　"He left the house just now."

　　"And Vanessa?" the voice asked again, irritation and impatience creeping through.

　　"Done. She's dead."

　　"Good," came the reply.

　　The line went dead.