Lady Warrior's Warth on Divorce Day novel Chapter 8

Chapter 8

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“No can do. I’m tied up. Your mom needs a check–up, you and your brother can handle it,” Zoya said, her voice cold as a winter wind. She hung up before Violette could yap back and blocked her number for good measure.

Three years married, and every time Anica so much as sneezed, Zoya was the one playing errand girl–snagging appointments, picking up prescriptions, wrangling doctors.

But the Mayer family? They treated her like hired help, not a hint of gratitude.

Today was Anica’s eye check–up.

“Who was that?” Eowyn asked, glancing up.

“Nicolas’s sister. Don’t worry about it,” Zoya said.

Half an hour later, Nicolas’s name lit up her phone. “Zoya, get your ass to the hospital now. If anything happens to my mom, you’re done,” he barked.

Zoya’s jaw clenched, but she headed out. She and Nicolas weren’t divorced yet–there was no need to kick up more drama.

The second she hit the hospital, Violette stormed over, face red as a beet. “Zoya, did you block me? I called you a dozen times and got zilch!“–

“Yup, you’re blocked,” Zoya said, cool as ever.

“How dare you!” Violette was about to pop a vein.

Earlier, she’d waltzed her mom into the doctor’s office without an appointment, only to get shown the door by staff. Standing there, blowing up Zoya’s phone with everyone watching? Total mortification.

“What’s stopping me? You think you’re the queen or something? I have to pick up your calls?” Zoya shot back.

Violette stood there, mouth flapping, no comeback.

Nicolas stepped in, voice tight. “Whatever we’ve got going on is between us. You don’t get to screw over my mom’s health to spite me.”

“Screw her over? How’s that?” Zoya said, almost laughing.

“You always take her to these appointments. Ditching now? That’s cold,” Nicolas snapped.

“Oh, so you know I’ve been schlepping her to every visit? Your mom raised you and your sister, not me. I’ve been doing it out of the goodness of my heart, not because I owe you squat,” Zoya said, her words sharp enough to cut glass.

“Fine, say you’re done. But why couldn’t we book Liam Waller? You pulling some shady strings?” Nicolas growled.

“Dr. Waller’s an old–school army doc, practically a legend. He sees maybe a handful of patients a week. You need to book weeks, sometimes months, out. It’s not a walk–in clinic,” Zoya said.

“Then how do you always get him?” Nicolas asked, eyes narrowing.

“Take a wild guess,” Zoya said, smirking.

Nicolas shut up, probably thinking she’d worked some magic. Truth was, Liam Waller saved her a slot because of her parents, but she wasn’t about to lay that out for him.

“Look, your mom’s cataract surgery’s done. If you can’t get Dr. Waller, another doc in the department can take care of her.”

12:05 Tue, Oct 21 G MM.

Chapter 8

Zoya said.

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Anica overheard, charging over like a bull, finger jabbing at Zoya. “You want me to see some second–rate doctor? You’re trying to ruin me–make me go blind!”

She swung at Zoya, who sidestepped with a scowl. Anica kept coming, not backing down.

The commotion pulled Liam Waller out of his office. “What’s the ruckus… Zoya?” he said, spotting her.

“Doc-” Zoya started, but Anica cut her off.

“Not yet,” Zoya said, shaking her head. “I’m taking them to my hometown soon.”

“Let me know when you head out. I want to pay my respects,” Liam said.

“Will do,” Zoya replied, her throat tight.

Once the divorce was finalized, she’d grab her parents‘ ashes and hit the road for her hometown, no delay,

12:05 Tue, Oct 21 GMM.

Chapter 8

*****

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That night, back at the villa, Nicolas was there–a rare sight since Jasmine rolled back into Ranard City.

“My mom still wants Dr. Waller as her doctor. Talk to him, make it happen,” Nicolas said.

Zoya let out a bitter chuckle. ‘Does he really think Liam, a national treasure, is just sitting around waiting for their call?”

The guy treated critical cases and big shots. She’d only gotten him for Anica because her mom, a military doctor, had been tight with him.

“Book an appointment. He’s a doctor; he won’t say no if you snag a slot,” Zoya said.

Nicolas’s brow creased.

“Oh, and don’t you have stacks of cash? Hire someone to grab a slot,” she added, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Nicolas opened his mouth to argue, but his phone buzzed. His face darkened as he listened.

When he hung up, he spun on Zoya. “That restaurant thing? Someone leaked it to the gossip rags. They’re saying I’m married, so now they’re calling Jasmine a homewrecker. You’re coming with me to clear this up–say it’s all at misunderstanding and we’re just friends.”