My Body Calls BS On My Husband

I hadn't taken more than a few steps before Landon rushed up from behind and grabbed my wrist. "Stop this madness, Olivia! Say what you actually mean!"

He bent down, picked up the divorce papers, and there they were again—those eyes with mockery dancing in them.

"You think I don't know what you're plotting? You're playing hard to get! Without me or Yale Group's resources, what can your little figure skating prize money even do for you?"

He was certain I wouldn't leave him, just like every fight before this. Every time, he had found a way to make me give in.

Seeing Landon's confidence return, Eunice found her nerve, too. Her tone turned sharp, dripping with fake sweetness. "Oh, Liv. It's just a dress. You have so many—what's wrong with lending me one?"

She tugged at the costume on her body, straightened up, chest lifted, showing it off without shame. "And besides, it looks way better on me—Landon's words, not mine. You're just jealous, aren't you? Gosh, you're petty."

I stopped. Slowly, I turned back, my eyes locking onto the dress she was wearing. That costume was the highlight of my career, the one honor I had earned with blood, sweat, and countless hours on the ice.

Now, it was draped over a clown, paraded around like a trophy.

I didn't bother with Landon tugging at me, nor did I argue with Eunice. Instead, I calmly took out my phone and dialed. "Hello, 911? I'd like to report a crime."

My voice wasn't loud, but in the otherwise dead-silent hall, every word carried.

Landon froze. "What on earth are you doing?"

Eunice panicked, too. "Liv, w-why are you calling the cops?"

I spoke into the phone, but my eyes stayed fixed on her.

"I'm reporting the theft of my trade secret. The item is valued at over seven figures. The suspect is currently wearing the evidence. The address is the Yale Group New Year's Gala…"

Landon lunged for my phone, but I shifted aside and avoided him. Colors drained from Eunice's face.

"What trade secret? It's just a stupid dress!" he argued, still trying to bluff.

I let out a cold laugh. "A stupid dress? That costume was hand-stitched over six months by a top Valtalian designer. Every stone on it is a real diamond from Nafira.

"The design crafts have never been released, and they include three unpublished design patents. So, tell me, what exactly do you think it is, if not trade secrets?"

Eunice was too angry to speak. "You…"

Landon was stumped, too. He had thought it was just an ordinary costume.

Soon, two police officers arrived.

Landon tried to block them, but one of the officers shut him down with a firm warning. "Ms. Fontaine, do you have the evidence?"

Of course, I did.

I snapped my fingers. The giant screen in the hall lit up. Footage from the surveillance in my dressing room started playing.

On screen, Eunice slipped inside, sneaking around. She opened my wardrobe, took out the Ice Queen costume, and stood in front of the mirror, repeatedly posing with it.

Then, without hesitation, she stripped off her own clothes and changed into my costume, greed written all over her face.

The proof couldn't be clearer. Pale was the shade of Eunice's face, and she looked like she might collapse at any second.

Landon was just as shaken. He probably never imagined that the so-called simple, harmless friend that he kept defending would actually steal.

So, he started begging. He tried to smooth things over, dragging our marriage into it like leverage. "Why don't you just let this go, Liv? Eunie didn't mean it. Don't make it worse than it already is. It does nobody any good."

I looked at him coldly, as if he were a stranger I never loved.

The officer turned to me. "Ms. Fontaine, how would you like to proceed?"

I glanced at Eunice, trembling like a leaf, and laid out my condition for settling it privately. Then, I ordered, "Take off what doesn't belong to you and give it back right this instance."