Please Divorce Me, Alpha! {BL}

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A knock on my door interrupted my existential crisis.

I glared at the door from the edge of my bed, surrounded by what looked like the aftermath of a small-scale war rather than a bedroom.

Clothes half-spilled from the wardrobe, a chair tipped on its side like it had lost a fight, and the faint glitter of broken glass catching the low light from the hallway.

For a fleeting moment, I thought maybe it was a maid bringing food again, despite having made it clear a million times that I didn’t want any.

With a sigh, I rubbed my face with my hands. "If that’s food, just leave it outside."

Silence, my frown deepened. There was something unsettling about that silence, something that raised the hairs on my arms and made the quiet stretch longer than it should have.

Then I heard his voice. "Alex."

My stomach sank. Great...just what I needed right now.

Because clearly, the universe had decided I hadn’t suffered enough.

I stared at the door. "Lorenzo."

"Yes."

"What the hell do you want?"

"We need to talk."

"No, we don’t."

Another pause. "Open the door."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Fuck no, go away."

I braced for an argument. Instead, I heard the faint sound of a key sliding into the lock.

My body went rigid. "Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me."

The lock clicked. Of course he had a key; he technically now owned the estate and had the terrifying privilege of every room’s key.

For a ridiculous moment, I glanced at the window. It wasn’t exactly low...actually, it was pretty high.

Would I survive if I jumped? Probably not.

Could I make it look like an accident? Also probably no.

The door swung open. Lorenzo stepped inside, and I jumped to my feet. Suddenly, the room felt much smaller, the air thicker, as if his presence alone had compressed the space between the walls.

The momentary powerlessness of realizing he could walk in whenever he wanted stung worse than the bruises I did not have.

He didn’t speak right away. His eyes scanned the mess: the overturned chair, the broken lamp, the scattered books, the torn bedding, and the glint of glass beneath the furniture.

Finally, his gaze landed on me.

I crossed my arms defensively. "What?"

His expression didn’t change. "I see you had a difficult night."

Oh, you don’t say?!

"Oh, fuck you, Captain Obvious." I shot back, the words sharper than I intended. "Mr. I Make Life-changing Promises Then Break Them."

He glanced at my face, then looked away.

There was something off about him tonight. He wasn’t angry or amused; he just looked tired.

That annoyed me more than anything. I preferred the infuriating version of Lorenzo; at least then I knew how to handle him. This calmer version was harder to spar with.

He closed the door behind him without locking it. I hated that I noticed.

For a few moments, we were silent.

Then Lorenzo said, "I lost control last night."

My eyebrows shot up. "That’s one way to put it, pervert."

"And I must apologize," His jaw tightened. "I shouldn’t have handled things the way I did."

I stared at him. No elaborate excuses, no blame on me...just a simple admission. It threw me off.

I swallowed. "Good."

His eyes locked onto mine. "It won’t happen again, I’ll do better when it comes to restraining myself."

The apology sat between us like something he had practiced on the walk over and still found distasteful in his own mouth. I latched onto it immediately, the sarcasm rising sharp and defensive because anything softer would have felt like surrender.

I let out a humorless laugh. "If you’re really sorry, then give me the divorce. Sign the papers. Let me walk out of here with whatever is left of the deal and we never have to look at each other again. Then I’d be more than happy to let it go."

There it was, the real reason I cared about his apology. His expression shifted almost imperceptibly, and the corner of his mouth lifted.

"No."

I blinked. "I’m sorry?"

"No."

I stared at him in disbelief. "That was a great apology followed by a really disappointing response."

"You asked for the divorce."

"Yes."

"And I said no."

My mouth dropped open. I looked up, searching for divine intervention. "Why do I even bother?"

"Probably because you still hope I’ll change my mind, you should know by now that I’m very set in my decisions."

"I’m just hoping you’ll regain your sanity."

"That seems unlikely."

"Finally, something we agree on, with your crazy ass!"

Lorenzo’s mouth curved into that familiar, infuriating smirk, the one that always looked like he knew something I did not and planned to enjoy watching me figure it out the hard way.

He refused...calmly, firmly, without raising his voice even a fraction. The seventy million was irrelevant. The temporary arrangement had ended the moment the papers hit the study floor in pieces. I was not leaving.

‎

Something in me snapped and I reached for the nearest book.

Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. "Alex."

"Don’t."

I threw it at him, but he dodged with annoying ease. The book smacked against the wall and slid down with a soft thud.

"That was a warning."

I reached for something else. Lorenzo sighed. "Alex."

"Stay away from me!" I yelled, "You absolute— control-freak— psychopath— get out of my room—!"

I hurled a decorative frame, and he actually caught it.

He looked down at the frame before meeting my gaze again. "You’ve got surprisingly terrible aim."

"Just give me five minutes to target your stupid face!"

"I’d prefer not to."

I grabbed a glass from the table. His expression changed. "Put that down, Alex."

"Or what, huh? Gonna break your promise?" I fake-gasped, "Oh wait! You already did that, you son of a bitch!"

He didn’t reply, which aggravated me. I hated his calm demeanor, how he could stand there while I was practically vibrating with anger, looking like we were discussing the weather.

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