Page 283 of Invisible Bars
My fingers trembled as my eyes skimmed across the legal jargon.
Petition for dissolution… property reassignment… sole ownership vested in petitioner.
Each word felt like a blade slicing into the life I thought I still owned.
The house deed—gone. The equity—gone. And the judge’s stamp at the bottom made it all too real.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head as my throat tightened.
This can’t be right. This is my home. I picked the damn curtains. I made holidays here. I raised my kids here.
My knees threatened to give out, but I forced myself upright.
“It is valid,” one of the men reassured flatly. “You need to gather your belongings and leave the premises immediately.”
My heart pounded furiously against my ribs, as if trying to escape the suffocating reality caving in around me.
“Robert, you can’t be serious!” I yelled into the phone. “It’s bad enough you emptied all the accounts, now you’re attempting to have me removed from the house?! Thinking about it… we never signed a prenup or anything! So even if we arelegallydivorced, I’m still entitled to something—half the assets, spousal support,something!You don’t just get to erase years of marriage and leave me with nothing!”
On the other end, Robert’s voice was maddeningly calm but merciless.
“Oh, you definitelydidsign a prenup, sweetheart.”
“Wh-What?”
“See, back when I first opened my business, my lawyers advised me to have you sign a prenup. And you did—assuming it was just paperwork, something you’d never have to worry about. My lawyers slid it in with the other contracts. You skimmed it, signed it, and went right back to basking in the spotlight, wearing the title ofMrs. Korslike nothing mattered but the image. But it wasn’t harmless fine print, Giselle; it was protection. Protection for me, for what I built with my own hands and for what I knew could be destroyed if I didn’t cover every angle.”
He paused, letting the truth dig in. “That contract was ironclad, by design. It made sure the company, the houses, the assets—every piece of my empire—stayed where they belonged… with me. You walked into it blind, and now you’re walking out withnothing.No home, money, assets or claim to the life you flaunted as if it were yours. It was never yours; it was mine… and my lawyers made damn sure of it.
This muthafucka.
“This is the cost of pride, Giselle, and it was a losing battle from the start. You just never thought the day would come when I cashed it in. I hope the pearls you’re wearing right now are real… it’s all you’ve got left. Let’s not make this more difficult than it has to be. It was…okaywhile it lasted, and the kids are good. That’s all that matters now. We raised them, they’re grown, successful and they’ll be fine without us under the same roof. You’ll be fine too… just not there. Please make sure you lock up when you leave,” he finalized then the line went dead, leaving an unbearable silence in its wake.
Robert’s voice—flat, final, and radically devoid of any remorse—echoed in my head as I stood there frozen, the phone clutched so tight my knuckles ached.
No one ever got over on me.I was the one who pulled strings and the one who always came out on top. But Robert somehow managed to. He played the long game, and I didn’t even see the board he was moving on.
A bitter taste rose in my mouth as the truth seared through me.
Pride blinds you to the knife until it’s already in your back.
One of theofficers stepped forward, his expression a mix of resolve and pity.
“Ma’am, we can handle this the easy way or the hard way.”
I took a step back, raising my chin defiantly.
“I’m not leaving! I don't care what documents you have—this house is mine! That man must be losing his mind if he believes he can just erase me from his life!”
“We have orders,” the tall one said, his voice calm and unwavering. “You’ve been served. If you refuse to leave, we are authorized to detain you for trespassing.”
A scoff escaped my lips. “You wouldn’t dare!”
He sighed, his face betraying just a hint of weariness. “Ma’am…”
I pivoted sharply on my heel. “I’m calling my lawyer! I’m not going anywhere until?—”
Before I could finish my sentence, cold metal snapped around my wrists, biting into my skin.
