Vanya's POV
"Yeah, you never said it, but you've hurt me countless times for Melinda. Can you honestly say she holds no place in your heart and that you don't like her?"
Cliff was speechless, his earlier assertiveness gone.
I didn't have time to wonder why he was acting this way.
"Do you really want a divorce?"
"Yes, I do. I've had enough," I said firmly, my eyes devoid of the affection they once held for Cliff.
"Alright, listen up. I won't agree to the divorce," Cliff stood up and tore the divorce agreement in half.
"Cliff! You!"
"I don't want to hear the word 'divorce' ever again. As long as I don't agree, you'll always be my wife, Cliff's wife."
"Cliff, how dare you..."
"Because I'm Cliff. In L.A., I have the final say. If I don't agree, you won't get a divorce."
Before I could finish my sentence, Cliff threw the torn agreement into the trash and stormed upstairs.
I stared at Cliff's retreating back, seething with anger. It was strange.
In my past life, I had cried and begged Cliff not to divorce me, but he wouldn't even look at me. This time, I was the one asking for a divorce, and he was the one refusing.
I glanced at the shredded divorce agreement in the trash. Cliff was right about one thing—in L.A., he held the power.
If he didn't agree to the divorce, I couldn't get one.
It seemed I needed to come up with a better plan and find some leverage.
The next day, I went to the Commerce Bureau to officially take over the struggling companies under the Dalton family.
As I walked into the company, I saw the staff looking listless, with a few people even scrolling through their phones.
I knew this entertainment company had never made much headway in the industry.
Many promising artists had left, and the company was losing money every year, relying on subsidies from the Dalton family to stay afloat. At this rate, it would probably go bankrupt in a few years.
I walked in slowly, and the receptionist didn't even lift her eyes, asking coldly, "Who are you?"
"I'm Vanya."
"Vanya?" she repeated, then suddenly seemed to remember something and looked up sharply. "Miss Dalton?"
The people swiping phones straightened up immediately, hastily putting away their phones.
I scanned them and asked, "Didn't you know I was coming today?"
They quickly lined up, their faces full of guilt.
"We, we thought it would still be Manager Nichols..."
I raised an eyebrow. It seemed Nichols had been in charge before.
"I'm sure you all received the news that Dalton Media is now under my control. I'll be coming here often. If I catch anyone slacking off again, they're fired," I said.
The manager quickly assured me, "No, no! We were just bored. It won't happen again."
I sat down casually. The decor here wasn't bad. I thought about how much the Dalton family had invested in this media company. It shouldn't be losing money every year. These employees were afraid of layoffs because it was hard to find such a laid-back job with a high salary elsewhere.
I asked, "Where are the artists?"
The manager tried to flatter me, "The artists we have on contract are all out on assignments. They probably won't be back until tonight..."
"What about a guy named Calvert?"
I clearly remembered that Dalton Media had once signed a college graduate named Calvert Sutton.
He was quiet and had been suppressed by the company, left in a semi-hidden state after graduation.
But a few years later, he was poached by another company and quickly became famous, rising to great success.
If I wanted to save this nearly rotten Dalton Media, I might have to rely on him.
"Calvert?" The manager thought hard, clearly not remembering this person. "Miss Dalton, our biggest star right now is Neville Lawrence! Shall I have Neville come see you?"
I looked at the manager, a smile on my face but no warmth in my heart.
"You have half an hour to bring Calvert to me," I said, then walked straight upstairs.
The manager gave his subordinates a meaningful look and hurried after me.
I looked around the office decor. The manager tried to flatter me, "Miss Dalton, this is the office left by the previous owner. I had it redecorated specially for you yesterday. Do you like it?"
"Not bad," I said, sitting in the office chair.
The manager smiled ingratiatingly, "Miss Dalton, Neville is the mainstay of our company right now. Don't you really want to meet him?"
I squinted with a mocking smile, which made the manager feel uneasy for some reason.
I knew Neville was just a second-tier actor who relied on negative headlines to get attention. He had no acting skills or real talent, just a decent-looking face.
And yet, in Dalton Media, he was the top guy.
I remembered how Neville had once hooked up with a wealthy woman, kicked out the company that had made him famous, and then got himself canceled within two years for sleeping with fans, mistreating staff, and having shady contracts.