Your mom is missing again

It didn't take long for Christopher to arrive at his destination.

The moment the car pulled up, a man in a black suit stepped forward and opened the door. Christopher adjusted his cuffs before stepping out, his sharp eyes scanning the area.

"Good afternoon, sir. She's upstairs," the man informed him with a bow of his head.

Christopher gave a slight nod before making his way inside. The restaurant was the kind where a single meal cost a fortune, but today, it was completely empty—booked exclusively for his meeting. He moved through the lavish space without a glance, heading straight for the elevator.

When he reached the highest floor, the doors slid open, revealing a woman sitting elegantly at the table. She had already ordered food and drinks, her long, manicured fingers tapping idly against the glass. The moment she saw him, she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"Always right on time, I see," Anna remarked, her tone laced with irritation.

Christopher ignored her comment and took the seat across from her.

Anna didn't want to admit it, but even now, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. He was an asshole, but he was a rich, good-looking asshole. One of the wealthiest men in the country. And he was hers.

Well, until today.

Dante, standing behind Christopher, silently pulled a document from his briefcase and slid it across the table.

Christopher's cold gaze met hers. "Sign the divorce papers."

Anna's grip on her wine glass tightened as her eyes flicked over the divorce papers in front of her. A sharp, bitter feeling coiled in her chest.

Then, without hesitation, she tipped the glass forward, watching with satisfaction as the deep red liquid spilled over the white pages.

"Oops." She feigned innocence, setting the empty glass down with a smirk. "Looks like we can't sign it today. Maybe next t—"

Before she could finish, Dante, ever efficient, reached into his suitcase and pulled out another identical set of papers, sliding them onto the table without a word.

"Sign the divorce papers," Christopher repeated.

Anna's smirk froze. This man… He was insane. So meticulous, so calculated. He had anticipated her every move. Of course, he did. Christopher was never the type to walk into a situation unprepared. If she wanted to throw wine at the divorce papers, fine—he probably had a dozen more copies just waiting for her to waste them.

Her jaw tightened. "Christopher, are you really divorcing me?"

His expression remained unreadable as he met her gaze. "I am."

His bluntness cut through her. She had hoped, even for a second, that he might hesitate. That he might at least pretend to reconsider.

Christopher leaned back slightly, his fingers drumming idly against the table. "It has already been two years. The divorce agreement is over. The deal was simple: we stay married for two years, and afterward, I pay you 200 million dollars and give you three mansions. Have you forgotten, or do you not think anymore?"

Anna clenched her fists under the table. "I haven't forgotten, Christopher. I agreed to the deal, yes. But that was before…" She sucked in a shaky breath. "Before I fell in love with you."

Silence stretched between them.

Christopher studied her for a long moment. Then, suddenly, he chuckled.

The sound sent an unexpected jolt through Anna.

Christopher rarely showed emotion—he was always composed. And yet, here he was, chuckling. It wasn't warm. It wasn't affectionate. But God, it still made her heart skip a beat.

Even when he was breaking her heart, he was still the most attractive man she had ever met.

Christopher turned to his right. "Dante."

Dante, who had been standing silently beside him, straightened. "Yes, sir."

He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a tablet, tapping the screen before sliding it across the table to Anna. Without a word, a video began to play.

Anna's stomach twisted the moment she saw it. The dimly lit club, the flashing lights, the loud music in the background—she recognized the scene instantly.

No…

On the screen, she saw herself sitting in a VIP booth, a cocktail in hand, speaking to her friend.

"So, do you love your new husband?" her friend asked, smirking.

Anna shrugged casually. "I don't know. It's just a contract marriage."

Her friend laughed. "So, are you going to divorce him?"

Anna took a sip of her drink, then leaned forward with a grin. "Like hell! Why would I divorce someone this rich? I'm going to make him fall in love with me and then make him, and his money—mine."

The video ended

.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers trembling as she set the tablet down.

Across from her, Christopher simply watched. But his eyes—those cold, piercing eyes, burned through her like ice.

"Did you really think I was a fool?" His voice was calm. "Did you think I would marry someone without monitoring them?"

Anna's head snapped up. "No! That's not tr—"

Christopher cut her off. "True? Are you saying I fabricated the video?"

She swallowed hard. "I… I did say that. But that was before—before I fell in love with you. I don't want your money anymore. I only want you to love me back."

Christopher tilted his head, studying her for a long, agonizing moment. Then, he spoke. "So, will you divorce me without taking what was promised?"

Anna blinked, caught off guard. "Huh?"

"If you truly love me, then take nothing and quietly leave."

Anna's heart pounded. Her fingers clenched around the fabric of her dress.

How… how could she do that?

She wasn't stupid. She knew Christopher meant every word. He was divorcing her, no matter what she said.

And if she left with nothing, what will she get? What would she have left?

Only a fool would walk away empty-handed.

Christopher had expected this outcome from the beginning. Anna was just like the others—dramatic, fake and annoying. There was no way she would walk away without taking the money. No woman would. They all wanted his wealth.

The only reason he even bothered to marry any of them was because of his mother. She was sick, and she wanted him to have a wife and a child. According to her, she needed to see her grandson before she left this world.

It made no sense to him. But she had been desperate.

So, years ago, he had started offering two-year marriage contracts to women. They were legally married, but that was the extent of it. He couldn't stand most of them, and that was another issue entirely. He couldn't tolerate them enough to even consider intimacy.

And because of that, he failed to fulfill the one part of what mattered most to his mother, he never gave her the grandchild she so desperately wished for. He had even considered surrogacy, but for some reason, none of the arrangements ever lasted within two years.

Something always had to go wrong.

When the two years ended, he gave these women what they wanted. Money. Houses. Status. And then he ended things.

This was the important meeting he had today—another contractual marriage coming to its predictable conclusion.

Anna, sitting across from him, stared at the divorce papers, her grip tight on the pen. For a moment, she hesitated, her jaw clenched as if she wanted to argue. But in the end, she gave up.

With a sharp exhale, she took the pen and signed her name.

Dante immediately took the papers, glancing over them before nodding. "It's signed, sir."

Christopher gave a small nod in return. "The money and everything else will be transferred to you today. It was good doing business with you, Ms. Anna."

Anna's hands clenched into fists as she lifted her gaze to him, her eyes blazing with frustration. "Living with you has been suffocating," she spat. "I wonder if the next foolish woman will ever agree to marry someone like you. I pity her."

With that, she grabbed her purse and stormed off angrily, her heels clicking furiously against the floor.

Christopher didn't react to her statement.

There would always be another woman. Another contract. Another two years.

And when it ended, they would all leave the same way Anna had—angry, bitter, but significantly wealthier.

It was just how it worked.

Christopher's phone buzzed sharply in his pocket, he pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Danny. His best friend. The director of Saint Hospital.

The same hospital that woman had been rushing to.

Christopher had planned to go there once he was finished with this business. But Danny wouldn't be calling him during work hours unless it was urgent.

He answered immediately. "What is it?"

Danny's voice came through the line, frantic and urgent. "Christopher—your mom is missing again."