Ditch the Billionaire, Own My Better Life!

The next morning.

Hazel slipped into a bright red dress, she asked her friend to deliver before. The kind she hadn't worn in years. Rayan had never liked red. He'd been so controlling that if she didn't wear his preferred colors, he'd refuse to go out with her.

She couldn't believe she'd ever tolerated that.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Hazel saw something unfamiliar--a woman standing tall and elegant, wrapped in bold, blazing color. The fabric hugged her curves, the shade commanded attention. This--this was who she truly was. Daring.

Fierce. A woman unafraid to speak her mind.

She called a taxi and headed to RK Mansion.

This would be the last she would go to RK Mansion one last time--

--to end it all, on her own terms.

****

When the butler opened the door, the silver tray in his hands almost slipped. "Madam? You--"

"Not for much longer," Hazel interrupted calmly and walked past him.

The old man stared at her, stunned. The shy, compliant woman he once knew was gone. In her place stood someone composed, poised, and radiant with quiet confidence.

"Where's Rayan?" she asked softly.

"H-he's having breakfast," he stammered.

Hazel nodded and went upstairs to pack. When she came back down with her suitcase, Rayan was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine.

He didn't even look up. "Have you learned your lesson?" His voice was cool, indifferent. "I can forgive your recklessness this time, but don't repeat it. Go make me a cup of coffee. Once you've done that, I'll have your cards unfrozen."

Hazel's lips curved into a faint, mocking smile. So this was how little he thought of her. He truly believed she'd come crawling back to please him.

"Mr. Knight," she said evenly, "you've misunderstood. I'm not here to ask for forgiveness. I'm here to collect my things."

That got his attention. He looked up sharply, disbelief flashing across his face. Hazel met his gaze, her expression steady. "By the way, have you signed the papers? If you have, let's go to the civil court and get this over with properly."

For a long moment, the room was silent. Rayan simply stared at her, struggling to comprehend that the woman who once revolved around him was now walking away without hesitation.

When he finally lifted his head again, his expression hardened.

The woman standing before him was not the timid wife he remembered.

Her face was cold, her posture regal. The scarlet dress made her look like a rose in

full bloom--beautiful, proud, and armed with thorns.

Rayan's breath caught. For a fleeting instant, another image flashed in his mind--her.

The resemblance was uncanny.

But no. This wasn't Evelyn. Evelyn had only ever worn white.

He forced himself to regain composure, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Hazel Foster, that's enough nonsense! What makes you think you have the right to demand a divorce?"

Hazel's expression didn't change. "Mr. Knight, I'm not speaking nonsense. Marriage is built on mutual will. Love is a matter of choice. The law grants me the right to file for divorce--I don't need your permission."

Her tone was calm, but each word carried a quiet finality that made his stomach twist.

"And more importantly," she continued, voice steady, almost detached, "I'm tired. I'm tired of pretending to enjoy every restaurant you take me to, knowing they were her favorites, not mine. I'm tired of smiling at every piece of jewelry or dress you buy me, knowing they reflect her taste--not mine."

She drew in a deep breath, pain flickering in her eyes before she steadied herself again.

"But most of all," she said softly, "I'm tired of pretending not to notice how you close your eyes when you touch me--because you're thinking of someone else."

"Shut up!" Rayan roared, his authority flooding the room like a violent wave.

Hazel realized something in that moment--once she'd stopped loving him, she no longer feared him. The strength that had always been buried deep inside her finally surfaced. She looked at him, waiting.

"You think I didn't know?" he hissed, his blue eyes burning with rage and humiliation. "You knew from the start you were a replacement, didn't you? You knew who I loved, and still you married me. You chose to live in her shadow, to play her part--and now you have the nerve to talk about love? About divorce?"

"Yes," Hazel said simply. Then her voice turned cold. "Because I finally realized something--you'll never be worthy of love."

For a second, the air itself seemed to crackle. Hazel saw the red flare in his eyes--feral, violent--but then his fist loosened.

He let out a cold laugh. "You want to leave? Fine. You're not even worth being a replacement anymore."

Hazel's fingers tightened at her side, but she didn't look away. "Good," she said quietly. "Because I'm done being the ghost of your fantasy. Your love, Rayan, is a disease. No sane woman would want it. Except Olivia--she's just as sick as you are."

Rayan froze, fury surging through him like fire. "Shut your mouth! You don't deserve my love!" he shouted, lunging forward.

He grabbed her wrist and threw her down on the sofa. "You think I can't live without you? You really think I'd miss you?"

Hazel didn't flinch. Her eyes were sharp, defiant.

"Perfect," she said icily. "The courthouse is on your route to work. Let's go--it won't take long."

He clenched his jaw, the tension between them so thick it was suffocating.

Neither of them noticed the maid in the corner, watching quietly before slipping away to make a phone call.

After a long silence, Rayan sneered. "You think divorce is that simple? What about assets? Alimony?"

"I don't want anything," Hazel said firmly. "You don't have to worry about how I'll survive."

"You don't want anything?" His voice dripped with contempt. "Hazel Foster, do you even know yourself? You have no talent, no skill. Without me, you're nothing. Do you really think you can survive out there?"

So that's what he truly thought of her.

Hazel smiled faintly--a humorless, tired smile. "Mr. Knight, once we're divorced, we're strangers. My life or death has nothing to do with you. And honestly, I'd rather beg on the streets than live as someone's substitute."

Something flickered in his eyes--anger, maybe disbelief--but it struck right at his pride.

At that moment, the sharp click of heels echoed through the hallway.

Olivia appeared in the doorway, carrying a breakfast tray and wearing that practiced mask of innocence. Her voice was light and pleasant, but her eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

"Rayan, Hazel, what are you two talking about? I hope I'm not interrupting."

Hazel's lips twitched in disdain. "If I said you were, would you leave?"

Olivia froze for a split second. She hadn't expected Hazel to strike back--so bold, so unapologetically sharp.

Putting on her most pitiful expression, Olivia moved closer to Rayan and whispered tearfully, "Rayan, I swear I didn't mean to interrupt. It's just...I've been dreaming about Evelyn lately. She was crying so hard, saying you've stopped loving her. I couldn't sleep, so I came to check on you."

At the mention of Evelyn, Rayan's expression softened involuntarily. "You dreamed about her? What else did she say?"

Olivia bit her lip delicately. "She said you haven't changed--that you still love her.

Maybe...maybe it's just because it was her death anniversary a few days ago. She must really miss us."

Rayan's eyes dimmed. "Of course not. I'd never stop loving her. If you dream of Evelyn again, tell her yourself--I never changed."

Olivia let out a small, fake laugh through her tears. "Rayan, you're such a good man."

Hazel's stomach twisted with disgust as she looked at them. "Cut the act. You two seem to enjoy each other's company plenty. Who knows how many times you've used Evelyn's name as an excuse to sleep together?"

"Hazel!" Rayan's voice boomed like thunder. "Watch your mouth!"

"Fine," she said coldly, glancing at her watch. "Believe whatever you want. Can we finalize the divorce now? I don't have time to waste."

Olivia's smile faltered. If they got divorced, she could finally take Hazel's place--but Rayan still hadn't agreed. Panic flickered in her eyes.

"Rayan," she said softly, slipping into her peacemaker tone, "before she died, my sister's only wish was for you to be happy. Maybe...maybe you should forgive Hazel--for her sake?"

Hazel's temper flared. "Shut up, Olivia. My divorce has nothing to do with the dead. I don't need your pity."

Olivia's eyes glistened. "Rayan, why is she talking to me like that? Did I say something wrong?"

Rayan instinctively pulled her into his arms. "Don't be afraid. She's lost her mind--just ignore her."

That last sentence broke what little restraint Hazel had left.

Sensing victory, Olivia gave a small, smug smile. "Hazel, being like my sister was the best thing that ever happened to you. Otherwise, you'd never have become the lady of this house. You should be grateful."

Hazel let out a cold laugh. "Grateful? Olivia, do you want to take my place that badly? You've been coveting your brother-in-law for years."

"Enough!" Rayan roared, slamming his hand on the table. "You want a divorce so badly? Fine! Take whatever you want!"

Hazel's smile turned calm, almost triumphant. "You should've said that sooner."

Dragging her suitcase behind her, she walked straight out the door.

Rayan stormed after her, fury in his stride, while Olivia hurried to follow, feigning concern.