Chapter 6 - Desperate BeggingThat evening, while I was reviewing corporate transition files in my new office, my assistant informed me that Kyle was downstairs in the lobby, begging for five minutes of my time before his bail was officially revoked.
"Should I have security throw him out, Ms. Calder?" my assistant asked.
I pondered for a second. "No. Send him up."
Five minutes later, Kyle walked into my office.
He looked unrecognizable. The pristine tailored suit was gone, replaced by a rumpled shirt and wrinkled trousers. His hair was messy, dark circles hung under his eyes, and he walked with a slight slouch, as if the weight of his own hubris was crushing his spine.
He looked at the grand mahogany desk where I sat—the very desk that used to belong to the CEO of the city's highest tech firm.
"Isabella..." he choked out, his voice hoarse.
"It's Ms. Calder now, Kyle," I said without looking up from my tablet. "You have three minutes."
Kyle rushed forward and dropped to his knees right in front of my desk, weeping openly.
"Please, Isabella! Please, I am begging you!" he sobbed, clutching the edge of the mahogany wood. "I was blind! Thalia manipulated me! She tricked me into thinking you were against me! I love you, Isabella! I've always loved you!"
I slowly lowered my tablet and looked at him. There was no hatred in my heart—only a deep, profound pity for how small he truly was.
"You didn't love me, Kyle," I said softly. "You loved the quiet, compliant wife who made you look good at dinners. You loved the money my father secretly funneled into your accounts. And when a louder, flashier woman came along and stroked your ego, you didn't hesitate to throw me on the floor and step on me."
"I made a mistake!" he cried, tears streaming down his face. "Drop the assault charges! Drop the fraud investigation! I'll sign the divorce papers! I'll give you everything! Just don't send me to prison!"
"You gave me divorce papers three nights ago," I reminded him, pulling the black folder out of my drawer and tossing it onto the floor before him. "And you told me I should be grateful if you let me stay in the guest wing. Do you remember that?"
Kyle stared at the folder, speechless, his breath catching in his throat.
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"I signed those papers yesterday," I said coldly. "We are divorced. And as for your charges... the law will take its course. Your three minutes are up."
Two heavy security guards stepped into the room, grabbed Kyle by his arms, and lifted him off his knees. He screamed and pleaded my name all the way down the corridor until the elevator doors closed, cutting off his cries forever.
