Karma Doesn’t Sleep: The Revenge Queen Rises novel Chapter 373

Clive finished signing the divorce papers and tossed the pen aside without a second glance.

“Happy now?” he asked, arching a brow at Amelia. The eyes she used to love—soft, inviting, always smiling—were cold and sharp now, full of sarcasm and a hint of disgust.

Happy? What a joke. This was just the beginning.

Amelia quietly tucked the agreement away, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction.

The calmer she was, the angrier Clive got.

“So, you put up with me all these years just to bleed me dry at the end? Really, Amelia? Impressive.”

Mrs. Salmeron, sitting nearby, shot Clive a scowl and opened her mouth to scold him, but Amelia beat her to it with a dry, almost amused laugh.

“Please.”

Finally, she looked straight at Clive. The man she’d poured half her life into. There was a time when just seeing his face made her soft, made her happy.

But now, that same face made her want to turn away.

Maybe he was never all that wonderful. Maybe it was just her love that made him shine.

Her stare was loaded with so much emotion, it made Clive shift in his seat.

He frowned. “What’s so funny?”

Amelia’s lips curled into a subtle smile, and she rested her chin on her hand, giving him a long, thoughtful look.

“I’m just laughing at myself. How did I never notice you’re actually pretty average? You must really love yourself a lot.”

Clive’s face darkened. “Amelia!”

“Clive, be honest. Were you ever really worth all the work I put into this marriage? Fifteen years of my life?” Her voice was casual, almost lazy, but every word dripped with contempt. “Take away your family’s money and connections, and you’re nothing special. Honestly, you probably set my gene pool back a little. And the Salmerons? Sure, you’re rich, but let’s not pretend you’re some kind of elite dynasty.”

The more Clive’s face clouded over, the brighter Amelia’s smile became.

“Don’t worry, Clive. If I’d ever wanted a rich husband, you wouldn’t have even made the list.”

Clive jumped up so fast his chair skidded across the floor. “Amelia, you—!”

“Clive!” Mrs. Salmeron snapped, her voice sharp.

Clive clenched his jaw, shot them both a murderous glare, and stormed out.

“Clive,” Amelia called coolly after him, “it’s all spelled out in the agreement. I expect my assets transferred within seven business days, or I’ll take it to court. To make it easy, meet me at the civil office at nine tomorrow morning. Let’s get this over with.”

The door slammed so hard the walls rattled.

Amelia picked up her tea and took a sip, calm as ever.

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