The divorce didn’t go as Sean had imagined.

It wasn’t drawn-out. It wasn’t complicated. It couldn’t be undone.

Clara was no longer alone—and this time, she brought not only courage but also a strength unseen by the public.

Leo worked behind the scenes.

He didn’t appear on camera. He didn’t issue statements. He didn’t stand beside Clara at press conferences. But behind the scenes, he reached out to one person—a lawyer whose reputation wasn’t splashed across the media but was widely known in the closed chambers of elite courts.

A man who rarely loses. Who knows the legal loopholes, understands public pressure, and knows when to strike without a sound.

Even Mrs. Diana—who had assembled the best legal team from the start—was surprised to learn Clara had chosen a different path.

"He’s highly competent," Clara said briefly when her mother asked. "And he can’t be bought."

The first hearing went quickly. The second one even faster.

Sean was present—because he had to be.

The judge read the documents with a cold expression. The kidnapping wasn’t explicitly mentioned, but Sean’s absence from previous hearings was neatly documented. Psychological evidence, timestamped recordings, and expert witnesses were presented flawlessly.

There was no drama.

Just a clean verdict.

The divorce—legally speaking—was nearly finalized within days.

And the public was shocked.

"Sean and Clara’s Divorce Processed in a Flash"

"Clara’s Legal Team Turned Out to Be Stronger Than Expected"

Leo’s name didn’t appear anywhere.

But Sean knew.

He knew who was behind it all.

---

Meanwhile, Sean and Moana were staying at Sean’s house—a luxurious residence with high fences, a sprawling garden, and tight security. The house was supposed to symbolize the start of a new life.

In reality, the house felt like a cold museum.

Moana walked through the vast hallways in an expensive dress that felt uncomfortable. No laughter. No warmth. No Sean.

It had been three days.

Sean slept in another room. Left at the crack of dawn. Came home late. Didn’t even look at her during dinner.

He didn’t touch her.

Didn’t hug her.

Didn’t speak beyond functional sentences.

Moana sat alone on that huge bed, staring at her silent phone.

"I’m his wife," she murmured softly. "Why do I feel like a stranger?"

The frustration was building—and before she could let it out, the doorbell rang long and loud.

Security rushed in. "Ma’am... there are visitors. Your parents."

Moana froze.

"What?"

"They’re forcing their way in."

And before Moana could react, the commotion was already echoing from the front room.

---

Mr. Freddy and Mrs. Freddy barged in without permission, without a shred of hesitation.

The man wore a flashy leather jacket, while his wife carried a large, clearly brand-new designer bag—still gleaming excessively.

"Wow," Mr. Freddy said, whistling in admiration. "This house is amazing. No wonder our kid is living the good life now."

Moana came down the stairs, her face pale. "Dad... Mom... you came here without telling me?"

"Of course," Mrs. Freddy replied casually. "We’re family now. Do we need to make an appointment?"

Moana swallowed hard. "Sean isn’t here."

"Good," Mr. Freddy replied quickly. "That’s exactly why. We want to talk to you."

They sat down on the expensive sofa without being invited. As if it were their own home.

"Here’s the thing," Mr. Freddy continued. "Dad needs some money. A little."

"How much is ’a little’?" Moana asked softly.

"Not much," he answered casually. "Just for a little gambling. And buying a few lottery tickets. You never know, it might bring some luck."

Moana gaped. "Dad—"

"And Mom," Mrs. Freddy interjected, "needs money for groceries. Clothes. Shoes. Bags. You know, now that we’re in-laws with the Weasley family. We can’t just show up looking ordinary, can we?"

Moana felt a tightness in her chest.

"You can’t just come here and—"

"We can," Mr. Freddy cut in. "You’re Sean’s wife. That means his wealth is tied to you too."

Moana shook her head quickly. "It’s not that simple. Sean—"

"Sean what?" Mrs. Freddy sneered. "He’s rarely home, is he? You’re the one in charge."

The words stung.

Because it was true.

Moana fell silent. Her hands clenched into fists. She knew that if she refused, her parents would make a scene. They’d threaten the media. They’d humiliate her.

And if she gave in—she’d sink even deeper.

"I... I can’t give you the money right now," she said finally. "I need to talk to Sean."

Mr. Freddy clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Excuses."

"We’ll be back tomorrow," Mrs. Freddy said coldly. "And don’t forget, Moana. We’re the ones who raised you."

They left with haughty strides, leaving Moana trembling in the living room.

---

That night, Moana waited for Sean.

Nine o’clock.

Ten.

Eleven.

Sean didn’t show up.

She sat on the floor of her room, hugging her knees. Tears fell silently.

"I got married to be saved," she whispered. "Why am I trapped instead?"

She stared at the large mirror. An expensive gown. Sparkling jewelry. But her face looked tired, dull, and frightened.

Her phone finally vibrated.

One message from Sean.

> I won’t be coming home tonight

No explanation. No loving signature.

Moana let out a small laugh—a laugh that broke at the end.

"Even a mistress is treated better," she muttered.

"Why did he treat me so sweetly when we were still dating? And now ... he’s acting cold toward me. Why?"

*

That divorce hearing was never about emotions. It was about money, influence, and who remained the calmest when the judge’s gavel came down.

That day, the courtroom was completely packed, yet the silence felt like an operating room. Sean sat upright in an expensive suit and designer shoes he’d bought in Paris. His lawyers were lined up neatly. They were high-profile attorneys with exorbitant fees, long-standing reputations, and guaranteed results.

Everyone knew that if money could buy time, Sean intended to buy everything.

"I’m certain this divorce won’t reach a settlement." Sean smiled wryly.

On the other side, Clara sat without any flashy jewelry. Her face was calm. Leo wasn’t by her side.

Sean kept staring at his wife with hope. He admired the beauty radiating from Clara’s face. But Clara completely ignored her husband’s gaze.

She had resolved not to be swayed by anything around her. Clara wanted it all to be over. Without any drama.

She wasn’t intimidated even though Leo wasn’t with her. Sometimes there was a man accompanying her. He looked sturdy and stern. He had dark hair and a stoic face. He was sitting slightly behind her.

He was Anthony. The man Leo had paid handsomely.

Anthony didn’t open the hearing with a long speech. He didn’t play on emotions. He didn’t mention suffering in a vulgar way.

He simply opened a thin folder.

"Your Honor," he said softly, his voice steady, "we did not come to ask for pity. We came to present facts."

He spoke about Sean’s absence from the previous hearing; everything was neatly documented. About the psychological pressure, backed by professional reports. About Sean’s new marriage to Moana, which took place while his legal status was still pending, complete with dates and documents.

Sean’s lawyer responded. He counterattacked. He called this an attempt to ruin his reputation.

Anthony didn’t interrupt. He waited.

Then he stood up again.

"My client isn’t asking for a division of marital assets," he said casually. "She’s only asking for one thing, it’s a legal freedom. So, why would we ruin his reputation?"

The room fell silent. The judge studied the files longer.

And a short while later, the gavel fell—

Thud.

"The court hereby declares the marriage of Sean Weasley and Clara... officially dissolved."

No applause. No tears. Just a long, deep breath from Clara.

And Sean’s jaw clenched.

Yes! He had lost.

Not because of a lack of money. But because Anthony couldn’t be bought.

Sean didn’t react immediately. He walked out of the courthouse without a word. He got into the car right away, then slammed the door shut with a tense expression.

"Damn it!" the man cursed.

********

And an hour later, he was standing in front of Leo’s house.

Leo opened the door with a calm expression.

"You’re pretty bold to meddle in my family affairs," Sean said coldly.

Leo stared at him without flinching. "You lost the right to be angry when you kidnapped your own wife."

Sean stepped inside uninvited. "Don’t play the hero. You think your money is more important than mine?"

Leo smiled faintly. "It’s not about money, Sean. It’s about choosing the right person."

"Anthony," Sean snorted.

Leo didn’t deny it.

"I’m warning you," Sean continued, his voice low but full of threat. "Don’t ever dream of getting Clara, even if you manage to get us divorced. You should know, Clara loves me very much!"

"Don’t get your hopes up too high, or you’ll fall hard!" Leo stared straight at Sean. "Did you come to my house just to scare me? You must be frustrated after losing in court."

Sean stepped closer. "Remember, Leo! This isn’t over."

Leo stepped closer too. "Actually, it is."

Sean turned and left. But for the first time, his steps felt heavy.

********

Meanwhile, Moana felt increasingly suffocated by the situation—not by Sean’s hands, but by her own blood.

Her parents came again. This time, without any preamble.

Mr. Freddy flung the ATM card onto the table. "There’s not enough in it."

Moana snorted. "I already gave you money last week."

"It’s all gone," Mrs. Freddy replied. "Your dad lost at gambling. Now he needs more capital."

"And Mom," she continued casually, "has ordered a limited-edition bag. It’s expensive. Don’t embarrass us."

Moana covered her face. "I don’t have access to Sean’s money!"

"Liar," her father snapped. "You’re his wife!"

Moana laughed softly, almost hysterically. "I’m his wife only on paper. In his life, I don’t exist. So, stop constantly asking for money!"

SMACK.

A slap landed on Moana’s cheek.

"You mustn’t speak like that!" Mrs. Freddy snapped.

Moana cried. For the first time, she realized—she hadn’t married to climb the social ladder, but to become her own family’s ATM. Her father and mother had been using her to rake in huge sums of money.

******

On the same day, Mrs. Weasley stood in front of Mrs. Diana’s house. No cameras. No bodyguards. No arrogance. She arrived with a haggard face and a weary gaze. A heavy burden weighed on her chest.

Mrs. Diana opened the door; she was surprised to see her daughter-in-law arrive so suddenly.

"What brings you here?" she asked coldly.

Mrs. Weasley bowed her head slightly. "I came... to apologize."

The words sounded heavy. Very heavy.

"I failed as a mother," she continued softly. "And as a wife. And as a human being."

Mrs. Diana fell silent for a moment. "Come in."

Mrs. Weasley stepped inside with hesitant steps. Then, they sat facing each other. The atmosphere felt silent.

"I know you’ve been holding onto this anger for a long time," said Mrs. Weasley. "And you have every right to feel that way."

She sighed. "About Clara’s father... and my husband."

Mrs. Diana tensed.

"My husband was indeed involved," Mrs. Weasley continued softly. "But he wasn’t the killer. He did cover up the truth, but ."

The air felt thick.

"Did you come here just to apologize for that?" Mrs. Diana stared coldly.

Mrs. Weasley bit her lip uncertainly. "I have a duty to apologize for something else. For Sean’s behavior toward Clara. I also apologize for often dismissing your feelings all this time. Please forgive me."

"Why are you only coming to apologize now? Why haven’t you ever apologized before?" Mrs. Diana paused.

Mrs. Weasley fell silent again. She didn’t know what to say.

And at the same time. Without them realizing it, Moana was standing behind the side door. She was eavesdropping on the conversation between Sean’s mom and Clara’s mom.

"What does that mean? Why does Sean’s mom sound so regretful when she apologizes to Clara’s mom?" The woman furrowed her brow.

"Not a murderer, but a cover-up of the truth? What does that mean?"