"Did you..." Oathran turned to Cecilia. "...hesitate from divorcing because... Anton Vasiliev’s will would give you all the assets if you do?"

He sounded confused, and more so curious.

"Madam... has always felt very indebted to Mast—to Mr. Anton Vasiliev. Mr. Anton was the one person who agreed to sponsor all of her research. He helped her prove her theories. Without him, none of it would have been possible." Thalia continued. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Gregor nodded, his deep voice picking up the thread. "That was why, when Madam found out about Mr. Arzhen’s infidelity, the first thing in her mind was not divorce. It was her research team, the patent... and the contract with the Hunter Association."

Cecilia understood now. AU!Cecilia had hesitated, even after signing the papers, because she was not merely walking away from a marriage. She was walking away from an empire.

It was an empire she had built with her own mind, her own research, and her own team. If she agreed to the divorce and if the secret will was activated and all of Vasiliev’s assets transferred to her, everything would descend into chaos.

The legal battle that would follow would surely be messy and public and... devastating.

Not to mention, even if Arzhen didn’t know about the secret will, he had his birthright. He could contest it in court, drag it out for years.

Anton’s ultimate will was not a master key to success, it was a declaration of war. A long, grinding, expensive war that would consume everything in its path.

"But I signed the papers a month and a half ago anyway."

Which meant, she had seen a path to success. AU!Cecilia wouldn’t have signed those papers in a fit of despair or recklessness. She must have signed them because she had figured something out.

Something that made her believe she could win.

Cecilia took a guess.

"How about my research team? Have they called back?"

Gregor and Thalia straightened their backs immediately. Seeing that, Cecilia knew she had hit the target dead center. Bingo.

The story had an obvious hole, and when she probed it, the shape of the answer became clear.

The patent was supposed to be public. AU!Cecilia had never wanted to patent it. Cecilia knew herself. And this world’s Cecilia... was also herself. She wanted good things to be used easily and for everyone’s benefit, not hoard it for herself just because she could.

But strangely, one by one, her team members had changed their minds. One by one, they had pressured her to hand the design over to the Vasilievs. One by one, they had persuaded her to do the very thing she knew she had sworn she would never do.

They were supposed to be the people she trusted, who started the research knowing full well what kind of person she was.

That was not a coincidence. That was manipulation.

Arzhen was not the kind of man who manipulated. At least, that was what Cecilia had believed when she was still married to him in the real world.

Only after her heart had been ripped from her chest had she realized how thoroughly she had been deceived. He had treated her with just enough kindness to give her hope.

And all the while, he had been working against her.

In this world, it seemed, the pattern held.

But Arzhen was not the only Vasiliev capable of manipulation. There was Elara too.

"No, Madam..." Thalia said, disappointed. "Unfortunately, your team members still have not... responded to us."

"It has been a month and a half since I decided to divorce him." Cecilia said. "Waiting much longer will complicate everything."

Oathran’s eyes widened. Looking at her now, he understood. She had postponed everything and waited because she was giving her team a chance.

A month and a half of silence, hoping that the people she had trusted would come forward and confess, whether they had been threatened, bribed or whether they realized if they had been manipulated by Elara or Arzhen or someone else entirely.

She had waited for them to choose her.

They had not.

Until suddenly, Eastiel had met her at the hospital. And she had asked him to buy her clothes and shoes, and to stay with them for the night.

Cecilia had chosen to leave with nothing but the clothes on her back, literally, and walked out of that hospital without returning to the Vasiliev estate for a single thing.

"That is alright." Cecilia smiled. At least to her, this wasn’t her first time tasting betrayal. "They must have their own reasons."

"I have signed the papers. Let us wait until Arzhen processes it, and then we will prepare for the lawsuit." She turned to Gregor and Thalia, her gaze steady and commanding. "You are Father’s lawyer and secretary. You must know the best way to do this."

Gregor and Thalia looked at each other, then back at her. There was something strange on their faces.

"Madam..." Thalia quietly said, a bit hesitant. "It is not just because of this problem. We thought... we thought you still loved Mr. Arzhen."

Oathran’s eyes faltered. Cecilia didn’t detect anything from his hand, which was still intertwined with hers under the table. But she could feel the subtle shift in the air around him.

It was a reasonable observation from Thalia. From everyone, probably. In the real world, Cecilia too had loved Arzhen deeply. There had been something about him that made her want to believe in him. Some hope that told her he could possibly love her back.

But alas.

"I don’t love him anymore." She said without hesitation or doubt. There was no faintest tremor of regret. "Do you think I would have gone into that club and had an orgy with three men if I still did?"

Cough—

Thalia and Gregor choked and coughed in awkward surprise.

Cecilia was sure now.

The original Cecilia of this world had signed the divorce papers before she slept with them. She had made her decision and emotionally checked out of that hope.

Only then had she let herself fall into their arms.

"With Father’s will, and with the patent lawsuit, and after the divorce is filed and finalized," Cecilia said crisply, "we have a chance to win. Arzhen also would not want people to know that he cheated. Or that I cheated with three men before the divorce was finalized—"

"You did not cheat."

Oathran’s voice cut through her words. He was staring at her deeply.

"That fool already handed you the divorce papers, you said so yourself, months ago. Only when you knew it was no longer salvageable did you sign them. Only then did you..." His voice trailed off, but his eyes did not waver.

"I know." Cecilia smiled at him.

Arzhen, with his own infidelity exposed, had pushed for the divorce first. For months, he had pressured her, dangled the papers in front of her.

She didn’t know whether he was certain that she would never sign, that she was too weak, too devoted, too in love with him to let go or whatever.

But she had caved anyway. Because she had finally and completely stopped caring.

By the strictest legal measure, yes, sleeping with three men while still technically married might be considered adultery. But emotionally? Physically? Oathran knew nothing about what she had done could be called cheating.

She even had been a virgin when the three of them had—

"Madam."

Thalia suddenly said hesitantly, treading carefully into territory she clearly didn’t want to enter. "Even though everything is settled... what if they use your pregnancy as leverage? What about... your reputation? Even if, legally, that should not complicate anything—"

"What did you say?"

Oathran interrupted.

Thalia stopped mid-sentence. Gregor, the mountain of a weretiger, flinched. And everyone within earshot felt the hair on their arms stand up from a prickle of goosebumps.

Oathran wasn’t loud. His voice had dropped into a register that Cecilia had never heard from him before. Not in this world, not in the real world, not in any of the thousand moments they had shared across universes.

Cecilia froze. Her hand, still clasped in Oathran’s under the table, went rigid.

This was not... how she wanted it to come out.

Now, Oathran was staring at her. His hand was gripping hers with a pressure that was just short of pain.

"Oathran—" she started.

"How long?" He asked, still quiet. Still terrifyingly controlled. "How long have you known?"

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