# Chapter 2: The Final Unraveling
Nicole slipped her phone into her pocket, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. The pain in her chest was nothing compared to the fire burning through her veins—a fire she had learned to suppress over three long years of marriage. She hailed a taxi and gave the driver a single destination: City Hall.
Time crawled. Each minute felt like an eternity as Nicole sat on a cold bench, her face pale as parchment. Her phone buzzed twice—Eric Ferguson calling. She let it ring. After the second unanswered call, he stopped trying. That was Eric. He never tried more than twice.
An hour later, footsteps approached. Eric stood before her, his face carved from stone, his eyes as cold as a winter storm.
“What exactly are you dissatisfied with?” His voice was sharp, edged with impatience. “I know you've donated more blood this month, but I've already compensated you.”
Nicole lifted her head slowly, meeting his glacial gaze. Her voice came out hollow, drained of all the emotion she once carried for this man. “Let's just get a divorce.”
For a moment, something flickered in his eyes, but she couldn't read it. She had never been able to read him. They were strangers bound by a contract, not love.
She studied his face one last time—those striking features, the tall frame that had once made her heart race. She had fallen so deeply, so foolishly. She had walked on eggshells, afraid to displease him. But now, looking at his stern expression, she felt nothing but a deep, hollow numbness.
Eric's jaw tightened. He could tolerate her moods, her demands—but he needed a reason. “Does she genuinely think she's the only one who can donate blood?” he muttered under his breath.
Aloud, he said, “Nicole, don't regret your decision.”
A bitter smile spread across her lips. “What I regret most is marrying you three years ago.”
Her mind had never been clearer. She had suffered enough in this marriage. Enough. Was. Enough.
The civil affairs office was nearly empty. They were the last couple of the day. In a matter of minutes, three years of marriage dissolved into nothing. The stamp fell, and her heart clenched as she held the divorce certificate in her trembling hands.
Eric didn't ask her to stay. He didn't even look at her.
“Let's go to the hospital.”
Those four words. Even now, even after the divorce, he was still using her.
Nicole lifted her head and laughed—a hollow, broken sound. “Eric Ferguson, even if she dies in front of me in the future, I won't waste another drop of blood on her.”
His eyes darkened dangerously. “How could you curse Wendy like that when she's sick? Don't forget, the condition of our marriage was that you'd donate blood whenever she needed it.”
The words struck her like a physical blow. *Right... I could only marry him because I have golden blood. Rh-null blood. The rarest blood type in the world. I was nothing more than a walking blood bank.*
Her gaze flickered as she looked at him, searching for any trace of warmth. There was none. Only cold indifference.
Her smile widened until she laughed—loud, unbridled, and filled with all the pain she had swallowed for three years. “I should have understood long ago. To you, Eric Ferguson, I am just a lowly walking blood bank.”
She straightened her back, her voice steady. “I don't give a damn about being your wife. Don't worry—I'll donate my blood to her one last time. And then we're done.”
She turned and walked away, her laughter echoing in the empty hallway.
Eric watched her go, his brow furrowed. Something was different about her today. She seemed... out of his control. In three years of marriage, he thought he knew her. She was clingy before they married, obedient after. When Wendy needed more blood, Nicole never refused. He felt guilty, but he compensated her well. She was a good wife.
*Nicole suddenly asking for a divorce annoyed him, but it didn't matter. She'll come back begging when she can't survive on her own.*
He dismissed the irritation from his heart and walked away.
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Nicole took a taxi to the hospital. She found Wendy Quade's VIP ward and pushed the door open without knocking.
Inside, doctors and nurses hovered around Wendy, attending to her every need. When Wendy saw Nicole, her eyes lit up with a practiced innocence.
“Nicole, you're finally here! You're not mad at me for always bothering you because of my poor health, are you? I was worried that your body couldn't take it.”
Nicole strode toward her, her gaze cold and unyielding. “You sent that text, right?”
Before Wendy could answer, Nicole's hand connected with her cheek in a vicious slap.
“Ah!” Wendy screamed, clutching her face in shock.
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**Reader's Impressions & Star Rating:**
This chapter was an emotional rollercoaster. Nicole's transformation from a meek, suffering wife to a woman who finally takes control of her life was nothing short of cathartic. The raw pain in her words, the bitterness in her laugh, and the defiant slap at the end—*chef's kiss.* Eric Ferguson, on the other hand, remains infuriatingly blind. His arrogance in assuming Nicole will come crawling back shows exactly why their marriage failed. The pacing was tight, the emotions visceral, and the climax (that slap!) was perfectly timed.
⭐ **Rating: 4.8 / 5 Stars**
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**Next Chapter Prediction:**
Nicole has declared war, but Wendy Quade won't take that slap lying down. Expect Eric to storm back into Nicole's life, furious that she dared lay a hand on his precious Wendy. But here's the twist—now that Nicole is free from the marriage contract, she no longer has to be the obedient doormat. I predict we'll see the first hints of Nicole's true identity as the billionaire heiress, and Eric will soon realize he made the biggest mistake of his life by letting her go. The gloves are off, and the real drama is about to begin.