Four years later. "I want a divorce," I said to Rowan, my voice firm but shaking slightly.Rowan snorted, puffing smoke from his cigar right into my face. "You think you're in a position to ask for a divorce?" he sneered, his eyes glinting with contempt.I coughed, waving away the acrid smoke, but Rowan just kept blowing it in my direction. His expression was cold, like he'd just sucked on a lemon. He sat cross-legged in his chair, his black suit looking like it was tailored to perfection. His white shirt was crisp and bright, and his silver tie sparkled in the light. His dark hair was slicked back, showing off his sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes that seemed to be staring right through me. Those eyes were like ice chips, chilly. "You don't love me. I don't love you. It was a contract marriage and I think it's time for it to end," I informed.He chuckled, a low, menacing sound. "From what your aunt said, this marriage is supposed to go on for at least two more years," he said,
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