Six Years A Ghost, Now Real

JILLIAN BELL POV:

Kallie's eyes, wide with a fear that shattered her usual composure, darted from the envelope in my hand to Cristian's enraged face. A strangled gasp escaped her. She instinctively recoiled, taking a step back that Cristian's arm around her waist prevented.

Cristian's face contorted in disgust. He pulled Kallie closer, his body a shield between us. His scornful gaze speared me. "Are you insane, Jillian? What kind of twisted game is this? You're ruining Kallie's birthday." His voice was a low snarl, meant only for my ears.

I ignored him, pushing the envelope into Kallie's trembling hand. "Happy birthday. Consider it a gift of freedom. Yours, and mine." The paper rustled with the force of her grip. It felt almost poetic, the way her hand shook.

"It's not just a gift," I continued, my voice gaining strength. "It's the divorce papers. And the confirmation of my recent loss." My words, delivered with a chilling calmness, sliced through the festive chatter. They weren't meant to be polite. They were meant to wound.

Kallie gasped, a high-pitched, almost theatrical sound. Her face paled, the carefully applied makeup suddenly stark against her ashen skin. The envelope slipped from her fingers, fluttering to the polished marble floor like a dying bird.

Cristian stared at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Loss... what? You're lying, Jillian. You wouldn't dare." He tried to dismiss it, to brush away the truth as easily as he brushed away my feelings.

"Why wouldn't I?" I met his gaze, unflinching. "To make way for your perfect little family? To ensure your precious Kallie doesn't have to deal with another one of 'my' children running around?" My words dripped with sarcasm, a sharp edge to my despair. "I'm making it easier for you both."

Kallie let out a small whimper, her hand flying to her mouth. She stooped to pick up the envelope, her fingers fumbling with the seal. The guests, who had been discreetly whispering, now openly stared, their hushed tones growing louder.

Cristian's face darkened further. "You think this is funny, Jillian? You think you can just march in here, make a scene, and demand a payout? Is that what this is? Some twisted attempt to get more money in the divorce?" His accusation hung in the air, a vile cloud of his own cynicism.

A wave of dizziness hit me, my body protesting the emotional and physical strain. My vision flickered, but Cristian didn't notice, or didn't care. His focus was entirely on me, on the perceived threat I posed to his carefully constructed image.

"I don't want your money, Cristian," I said, my voice raspy. "I want out. Just sign the papers. You can keep everything. The house, the company, even your perfect little setup here." I gestured vaguely at Kallie and the opulent room.

The whispers intensified. "Did you hear that?" "She lost a baby?" "Poor thing, what's he done?" The pity in their voices was almost as painful as Cristian's contempt.

Cristian's eyes narrowed, his anger boiling over. He snatched the divorce papers from Kallie's grasp and crumpled them into a tight ball. "You won't get a dime from me, Jillian! And you're certainly not divorcing me like this." He was losing control, his public facade cracking.

"Stop this crazy act, Jillian," he spat. "You're embarrassing yourself. Go home. We can talk about... compensation... later." He tried to usher me away, his hand pushing my arm.

I pulled away, my gaze unwavering. "There's nothing to discuss. I'm done. I'm leaving. You and Kallie can have your happily ever after. I just need you to sign this. Now." I pointed to the crumpled ball he still held. The urgency in my voice was unmistakable.

Cristian's face was a thundercloud, dark and menacing. He stared at the crumpled papers, then at me, as if trying to calculate his next move. The silence in the room was deafening, all eyes on us.