"That dress has real gold zippers. If you just ripped off the diamonds and gold, you could sell them for a fortune."

Nathan's face darkened with fury when he saw Amy actually wearing Prescott Industries' signature masterpiece. His eyes burned with rage. There was no doubt in his mind—Amy was doing this deliberately.

She had worn that dress just to provoke him.

Nathan started to storm toward her, but Victoria grabbed his arm, stopping him.

Victoria saw right through Amy's game—she was intentionally trying to get under Nathan's skin.

Truthfully, Victoria was seething inside as well.

How had Amy managed to spend so much money in such a short time? Did she really think Alexander's fortune was hers to waste?

Victoria shot Amy a cold glance, a mocking smirk curling her lips.

Amy, your little victory won't last long.

Do you really think Alexander's money is so easy to spend? Once the divorce is finalized, you'll pay for every dime you've squandered. One way or another.

And that Stradivarius—Celestial Nocturne—it will be mine too.

Amy ignored Nathan's furious glare and turned to Alexander with a bright, calculated smile.

"So, Mr. Blackwood, suddenly so generous with me. What do you want in return?" She tapped her chin playfully. "Hmm, there's not much about me worth scheming for. The only thing of real value I have is my violin—Celestial Nocturne."

"Mr. Blackwood, you want me to lend it to Victoria, don't you?"

Alexander's lips twitched slightly. "Just temporarily. It will be returned to you."

"So I guessed right," Amy said, nodding. "But what if she damages it?"

Alexander's voice was firm. "She won't."

"Anything can happen. Didn't you always tell me never to speak in absolutes? So why are you so sure now, when it's your turn?"

"Caroline is Victoria's idol," Alexander replied. "She'll take care of it."

"Alexander, I asked what happens if it gets damaged, and you're avoiding the question. But it doesn't matter—because I'm not lending it to you."

Amy stepped closer, her delicate face inches from his ear, her words sharp and deliberate.

"You have no idea how happy I am to finally be divorcing you. Do you know why I've been spending so recklessly under the name Mrs. Blackwood? Because I was afraid you'd find some excuse to delay the divorce."

Alexander's pupils contracted sharply. A wave of helplessness surged through him—foreign, unsettling.

But in an instant, it twisted into anger.

He said coldly, "Amy, you'll regret this."

Amy smiled faintly. "You'll have to divorce me first before I get the chance to regret anything. Now, can we go inside and get this over with?"

Expressionless, Alexander gave her one last look before striding into city hall.

They sat at the divorce counter, handing their documents to the clerk.

After reviewing the paperwork, the clerk looked up.

"You still have the option to reconsider. If either of you changes your mind, we can cancel today's appointment. Are you sure you don't want to think it over?"

Amy replied, "No. Please proceed as quickly as possible."

The clerk turned to Alexander. "And you, Mr. Blackwood?"

Alexander suddenly said, "Wait."