Chapter 5 Five

Sheila walked into the house, her heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor. Jacob was waiting for her, standing in the middle of the living room with a fury that could have burned through steel.

His eyes bore into hers, dark with anger and something she couldn't care less about anymore. He stepped into her path, refusing to move.

“Move," She said coldly, her voice devoid of the warmth she used to reserve for him.

“How dare you do this to me?” he hissed, his voice low but trembling with suppressed rage. “Was that your way of getting back at me? After everything I’ve been through, after what Elena did to me?”

Sheila tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “Move, Jacob,” she said coldly.

He didn’t budge. “Answer me! How could you humiliate me like that when you knew I was already dealing with so much? You had the mere security throw me out of my company..”

A low laugh escaped her. “Your company?”

“Stop this! Stop whatever it's you're doing because you're driving me insane! You choose today of all day for this? Are you this heartless?” He paused. “I was already dealing with a lot.”

She folded her arms, letting out a humorless laugh. “Your suffering isn’t my business. Weren’t you the one who wanted a divorce? Congratulations, Jacob. I’m just helping you get what you wanted.”

His expression shifted, his anger melting into something more desperate. “You’re leaving me now?” he said, his voice thick with disbelief. He tried softening his tone, attempting to play the victim. “How could you do this to me? I made mistakes, but it’s not my fault. If you’d told me I was infertile earlier, I wouldn’t have—”

“Don’t,” Sheila snapped, her voice cutting through his excuses like a blade. “Don’t you dare try to shift the blame onto me.”

Her gaze hardened, and she reached into her bag, pulling out a set of neatly prepared divorce papers. Without a word, she slapped them against his chest. “I have had enough. God you're so unbelievable.”

He had always done that. Make her feel guilty. But not anymore.

He caught the papers, staring at them in shock. “What’s this?” he stammered, flipping through the pages. His knees buckled as he realized what it was. Dropping to the floor, he clutched her hand. “Sheila, please. You can’t leave me. Not after everything we’ve been through. I gave you everything—love, a family—”

“A family?” she interrupted, her voice dripping with disdain. “What family, Jacob? The one where your mistress had your child? Or the one where your real family never saw me as anything but disposable?”

As if on cue, Jacob’s mother and sister, Chloe, walked in. Chloe had been abroad for years, pursuing her studies, but her presence now was anything but comforting.

“You can’t leave him,” Jacob’s mother said, rushing to kneel beside her son. Her voice was thick with condescension. “You’re his wife. This is when he needs you most. Can't you see he's suffering?”

Sheila stared at the woman who had been a constant thorn in her side. She shook her head, fighting the tears welling up. “You expect me to stay?” she said, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. “Where was this concern when you called me names, belittled me, and humiliated me every chance you got? Now that he’s at rock bottom, you want me to stay?”

She let out a laugh, one that made her realize just so much of a fool she had been.

Jacob’s mother began a tirade, spouting reasons why Sheila should remain loyal. Sheila cut her off, her tone sharp and unyielding. “Enough. I’m done being your family’s punching bag.” She turned to leave, but Chloe stepped forward.

“You can’t leave him like this,” Chloe said, her voice shaking. “What if he… harms himself? Can you live with that?”

Sheila froze, then slowly turned to face Chloe. Her expression was unreadable for a moment, then she let out a bitter laugh. “Would you stay with a man who can’t give you children?” she asked, her voice icy. “Or is it only me who’s supposed to make sacrifices?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unforgiving.

Jacob’s mother’s face contorted with rage. “How dare you speak about my son like that?” she shouted, standing up hastily while raising her hand to slap Sheila.

But Sheila caught her wrist mid-air, her eyes blazing with fury. “Don’t you ever try to lay your filthy hands on me again,” she warned, her voice dangerously low.

“I know it! She has always been there for his money. Nothing more. You have never been beneficial. If you had been such a good wife, he wouldn't have fallen into the wrong hands!”

Sheila lips curved. "The money? Oh, you mean MY money?”

She shoved the woman’s hand away, laughing bitterly. “You think I stayed with him for his wealth? News flash—everything he claims to own is mine. From the company to this house, it’s all under my name!”

The room fell into stunned silence. Jacob’s mother and Chloe looked at each other, their expressions shifting from anger to confusion.

“What nonsense are you spouting?” Chloe demanded, her voice trembling.

Sheila smirked. “Check your phones. You’ll see whose name is really on the deeds and contracts. Go ahead, ask him to explain. Check dear and you will know whose ass was kicked out of MY company."

She replied, emphasizing on the mine. "There.." she nodded down at Jacob. "Let him explain better."

Jacob squirmed under their gazes as Chloe frantically searched the news on her phone. Her eyes widened as she read the headlines. “She’s… Wilson Grey’s daughter?” Chloe whispered, disbelief coloring her tone.

Sheila turned, walking upstairs briefly before returning with her bag. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, glancing at the three of them. They were frozen in place, their worlds upended.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she said with a wicked smile. “This house has been put up for sale. You’ll need to vacate soon. Or don’t—either way, it’s no longer my problem.”

She walked to the door, pausing one last time. Her tone was softer now, almost pitying. “Sign the papers, Jacob. While I’m still being civil. Because trust me, you won’t like the alternative.”

And with that, she left, leaving behind the house and the chaos that had weighed her down for far too long.

Once in her car, she pulled out her phone, dialing a familiar number. Mira, her cousin and best friend.

“Mira,” she said, her voice steady for the first time in days. “I’m coming over. A free woman at last.”

The excitement in Mira’s voice was unmistakable. “Yes! I knew you’d finally listen to me. I’ll get the party started!”

Sheila smiled, a genuine one this time, as she drove away, leaving the mansion—and her past—in the rearview mirror.

“Time to be Sheila Grey once again!”