Divorce Unleashed Her: The Mafia Empress Awakens

The resounding slap that Ashlyn unleashed struck with merciless precision, sending Thalia reeling backward until she collapsed onto the polished floor in an undignified heap.

"Mom!" Carl cried out, his voice sharp with alarm.

Carl, Paulina, and the rest of the Hughes family stood rooted in stunned silence.

Not one of them had truly believed Ashlyn capable of raising her hand against Thalia.

Carl's features hardened into a mask of barely contained fury, composure utterly abandoned.

The woman before him bore no resemblance to the Ashlyn etched in his memory—the one who had always yielded first, trusted him without reservation, and paid dearly before daring to question him.

"Ashlyn, what in God's name do you think you're doing?" Carl roared. "Apologize to my mother right this instant. If you refuse, I swear I will never forgive you. I'll divorce you—do you understand me?"

In years past, that single threat had sufficed to crush any resistance. Whenever conflict flared between Ashlyn and Thalia, the mere mention of divorce had forced Ashlyn to swallow her pride and endure in silence.

Carl was certain the old pattern would hold.

What he could never have foreseen was Ashlyn's calm, unflinching response. "Divorce? Perfect. When my assistant arrives tomorrow to reclaim the shares, we can finalize the paperwork then and there."

For a moment, Carl stood speechless, Ashlyn's words refusing to settle in his mind.

An unwelcome suspicion clawed its way to the surface. Had every display of Ashlyn's been calculated? Had she, in fact, heard everything—his betrayal with Paulina, every vile confession uttered beside her seemingly lifeless form?

There was no time to pursue the thought.

"Ashie," Carl said quickly, forcing warmth and regret into his tone, "surely you didn't mean that. Are you angry because I proceeded with today's press conference without consulting you?"

Swallowing his rage, Carl preserved the facade of a concerned husband for the flashing cameras as he approached Ashlyn slowly.

When he stood close enough, he dropped his voice to a venomous whisper meant only for Ashlyn's ears.

"Don't push this any further," he warned. "You were unconscious for three years. Do you honestly believe the company still bends to your every whim? Many of your former loyalists answer to me now. If it comes to open war, I won't necessarily be the one who loses. Don't force my hand."

At last, the mask had slipped entirely.

He had abandoned pretense and moved straight to intimidation.

Ashlyn responded with a soft, scornful laugh that cut deeper than any shout.

She had truly lost her senses all those years ago, entrusting her heart to a man so utterly shameless and two-faced.

On the international stage she had once commanded, even the least distinguished of her admirers wielded far greater power and prestige than Carl could ever dream of.

The thought of past suitors inevitably summoned one name above all. Isaac Willis.

Isaac hailed from the Willis family—the preeminent arms conglomerate on the planet, an entity that operated on the same stratum as the Deity Syndicate.

He and Ashlyn had grown up side by side. He had once laid his heart bare to her, only to be rejected without a second thought—all for Carl.

In retrospect, Ashlyn could only regard her former self with a profound sense of incredulity and regret—an almost unbearable foolishness that now seemed incomprehensible.

Ashlyn met Carl's glare with serene indifference. "Hughes Group scarcely registers as a line item on my personal balance sheet. I maintain substantial stakes in numerous companies ranked among the global top hundred. Do you truly imagine this little advantage is sufficient leverage against me?"

Her declaration landed like a thunderclap, rippling through the assembled crowd.

A peal of incredulous laughter erupted from one of the Hughes family members. "Did everyone hear that? She claims ownership in multiple global top-hundred corporations—not just one, mind you! Three years in a coma must have unhinged Ashlyn completely. That sort of delusion is beyond absurd. Shareholders, you heard her yourselves. In her current state, are you truly prepared to return control of Hughes Group to her?"

In that instant, uncertainty flickered across the faces of even the most senior shareholders.

Ashlyn had undeniably been a formidable leader once. Yet asserting ownership in several of the world's elite corporations strained credulity to the breaking point.

It rang more of mockery than genuine assurance.

If she commanded wealth and influence on that scale, why would she ever have lingered in a modest city like Giphis?

Had three years of unconsciousness irreparably clouded her judgment?

Could a woman in such a state still be trusted to lead Hughes Group?

"Enough, Ashie," Carl interjected sharply. At first, he had feared Ashlyn might have overheard his infidelity while trapped in her coma.

Now, the notion that the accident and prolonged coma had impaired her faculties seemed far more plausible.

Once Carl embraced that convenient rationale, the puzzle pieces aligned neatly in his mind.

Ashlyn's uncharacteristic defiance that day at last possessed a logical explanation.

For the moment, his priority was to contain the spectacle and prevent outright chaos. Later, in private, he could maneuver Ashlyn—clearly not in her right mind—exactly where he needed her.

Placating someone whose judgment had been compromised would prove straightforward enough.

Carl exhaled slowly, the knot of tension in his chest loosening.

Just as derisive laughter and murmurs of disbelief began to ripple through the assembly, a resonant male voice boomed from the entrance.

"Who dares claim she is lying?"

The words were followed by the crisp, synchronized cadence of boots echoing across the marble floor.

Dozens of men clad in black poured into the hall from both aisles, moving with lethal precision. Each carried a Smith & Wesson M76 submachine gun slung at the ready.

Emblazoned on every chest was the unmistakable golden lion—the heraldic symbol of the Willis family.

In an instant, the atmosphere transformed from triumphant festivity to charged silence.

Conversations halted abruptly, as though severed by a blade.

Framed by this formidable escort strode a tall, commanding figure whose impeccably tailored suit did little to disguise the raw power of his physique or the innate authority that radiated from him.

Isaac surveyed the room with unhurried composure, his gaze sweeping across the stunned crowd.

When his eyes finally settled on the woman he had sought relentlessly for more than seven years, a subtle warmth softened their steel.

He spoke deliberately, every syllable weighted with unshakable conviction.

"Every word she uttered is the absolute truth. Registered under Ashlyn's name are one corporation ranked among the global top twenty, three within the top fifty, and five inside the top hundred. Should anyone here dispute that fact, then consider it a dispute with me personally."