Lady Warrior's Warth on Divorce Day novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Zoya’s eyes widened, her arms wrapping tight around the urn like it was her lifeline.

“These are my parents’ ashes! How dare you?” she snapped, her voice shaking with fury.

“This is my son’s house!” Anica spat, her words sharp as knives. “You try sneaking that bad mojo in here, and I’ll smash that urn to pieces. Let your parents see what kind of daughter they raised, trying to jinx the Mayer family!”

Zoya’s hands trembled, clutching the urn tighter, her eyes blazing. “You’re my mother-in-law, but that doesn’t give you a pass to trash-talk my parents!”

Nicolas stepped in, his tone icy. “Zoya, take the urn and go. Don’t stress my mom out. She’s still recovering from surgery. If anything happens to her, you’re not off the hook.”

Zoya’s grip on the urn tightened, her whole body shaking with rage.

Three years of marriage, and he couldn’t even show her parents the bare minimum of respect.

When she didn’t move, Nicolas’s eyes narrowed. “What, you waiting for me to toss you out?”

Zoya let out a bitter laugh, glancing down at the urn. ‘Mom, Dad, I married the wrong guy!

Three years ago, Nicolas had looked at her, all nervous and unsure. “I got no house, no car. You still wanna be with me?”

She’d nodded. That day, when she got the news about her parents’ deaths, he was the one who stayed by her side, quietly wiping her tears.

After they were gone, Arthur had sat her down, his voice heavy. “Zoya, your folks were always worried about you settling down. Special forces is too dangerous. I don’t want you ending up like them or your brother. I bet they’d want you to live a long, safe life.”

Her parents were dead, her brother missing-a family of four down to just her.

So she left the military, married Nicolas, thinking they could at least treat each other decently, even though it wasn’t the kind of love her parents had.

But now, Nicolas was tearing that thin layer of respect to shreds.

He didn’t know-or didn’t care-that when he was broke, the money to start his business came from her parents’ death

benefits.

‘If Mom and Dad could see this from up there, Zoya thought bitterly, ‘knowing the guy they bankrolled won’t even let their ashes in the house, I wonder what they’d say.

“Fine, I’m gone,” Zoya said, chin up, back straight, refusing to let the tears fall.

She could bleed, she could fight, but she wasn’t crying over a guy this cold.

She turned and walked out, not looking back.

Violette blinked, stunned. “She just… took off?”

Anica scoffed. “This is Nicolas’s place. What’s that orphan think she’s got a say in? Acting like she runs the show.”

Nicolas watched Zoya’s figure fade, a hollow ache settling in his chest, like he’d just let something slip away.

1/3

Zoya took the urn to the funeral home for safekeeping.

She wanted to bury her parents’ ashes back in their hometown, but the tombstone and arrangements weren’t ready yet. For now, this was the best she could do.

“Mom, Dad, just hang on. I’ll bring you home soon,” Zoya whispered, gently draping a flag over the urn. “I’ll find big brother, and we’ll come see you together. I know he’s still out there.”

Her brother, a soldier like her, had vanished five years ago on a mission near the border.

Back in the military, she’d searched for him but came up empty.

Once her parents’ ashes were laid to rest, she’d head to the border to look for him again.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Nicolas.

It read: [Mom and Violette are gone. Once you’ve dealt with your parents’ ashes, come back. We need to talk.]

2/3

24

Zoya stared at the message, her face cold, and started her car, heading for the villa.

Inside, Nicolas was lounging on the couch. The second he saw her, he got up and walked over. “You get your parents’ ashes

sorted?”

“Yeah, they’re taken care of,” she said, her voice flat.

“Look, my mom’s old, she’s got her quirks. She didn’t mean to come down on you like that,” Nicolas said, pulling her into a soft hug. “Zoya, I’m sorry you got hurt today. I’ll make it up to you.”

‘Make it up?’ A wave of sadness hit her.

His arms were warm, but they left her ice-cold inside.

The ones truly wronged today weren’t her-they were her parents, heroes whose ashes couldn’t even cross their daughter’s doorstep.

Once, she’d clung to the warmth of his arms.

Now, she was done with his empty promises.

Zoya pushed him away, locking eyes with the man she once loved. “Nicolas, we’re done. Let’s get a divorce.”