My Professional Partner and My Husband Are Kissing

Chapter 3

Jason seemed to have already braced himself for my refusal, quickly pulling a document from his bag.

"This is the prenup we signed ten years ago," he said. "You might want to take another look."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Ten years ago, at a crowded mall, Jason had proposed with a bouquet of roses, surrounded by a sea of people. His voice had been so earnest, his eyes full of love.

"Emily, will you marry me?"

Now, as he handed me the prenup, it felt like a lifetime ago.

I glanced at the document, confused. "Why are you bringing this up now? I remember the terms, just some playful stuff like 'You handle the chores' and 'You're in charge of the kids.' It all seemed like a joke at the time."

Looking at those terms now, I wanted to slap some sense into my younger self. I had proudly posted about it online back then, thinking it was proof of how much he loved me. But now I saw it for what it was, empty promises.

Jason, ignoring my sarcasm, urged me to keep reading. My suspicion grew as I flipped through the pages, my stomach sinking. On the last page, neatly written, was a clause: [Upon divorce, Party A shall leave with nothing.]

I froze. Party A was me. This clause was definitely not in the original agreement I had signed.

"You forged this!" I exploded, my chest heaving with fury.

Jason's smirk spread wider, a look of triumph lighting up his face. "Don't throw around accusations. You can have the signature verified. It's all your handwriting, after all. You were so in love, weren't you?"

I knew myself well enough to say, no matter how in love I was, I would never have agreed to such absurd terms. But as I examined the handwriting, I couldn't find a single flaw, not even in the fingerprint seals.

"This is impossible!" I insisted, my voice tight with anger.

"That clause wasn't there originally. Jason, how low can you go? You're really trying to pull this stunt just to get a divorce?" I couldn't believe the man I once loved could be so ruthless.

Jason chuckled lightly. "Emily, if you don't sign those divorce papers, I'll take it to court. And then you'll lose everything, the house, the car. Can you even afford a lawyer?"

His words felt like a slap in the face. "It's in your best interest to sign now. I'm running out of patience," he added, pulling another copy of the prenup from his bag, his signature already on it, a stamp pad ready for my thumbprint.

It was clear he was trying to force my hand.

I gripped the papers tightly. "I'm not signing anything until I verify its authenticity. You can't bully me into this."

Jason stood up, resolute. "There's a forensic office next door. Let's go."

His confidence was unnerving. Could I have missed something when I signed? My thoughts were a whirlwind, but I followed him to the office.

At the office, Jason handed over Sophie's business card and exchanged a few words to speed up the process. He glanced at me, seeing my anxiety.

"This is how the wealthy play, Emily," he said smugly. "Even if the prenup didn't exist, you wouldn't stand a chance in court."

His words were infuriating. I was so tempted to tell him, I am the real heiress of South City's wealth. That would wipe that smirk right off his face.

But I wasn't about to let him win.

While we waited, Jason took a call.

"Sophie, yeah, it's almost sorted. You can head over," he said, his tone soft and almost affectionate.

The whole scene felt like a nightmare, and I was still trying to wake up from it.