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The Art of Revenge

Talk At Home

Ch. 9 / 166 Dec 24, 2025

Mentioning Poppy made Clint's eyes flicker. The anger on his face vanished in an instant, replaced by that cold, unreadable look Serena knew all too well.

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He strode to his desk, sat down, and casually picked up a document. On the surface, he looked focused - like he was deep into his work. But Serena could tell. He was using it as a shield.

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After a few moments of silence, she narrowed her eyes and reminded him, "I asked for the divorce papers. Did you hear me?"

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Without even looking up, he muttered, "There's nothing here but business documents. I'm busy. We'll talk at home."

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Talk at home. Again.

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That place he called "home" hadn't felt like one to Serena in a long time. Every time she walked through that door, all she could picture was Poppy - naked in Clint's bed. It made her sick.

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It wasn't about love anymore. No, those feelings had been buried ages ago. But she was still human. And no one liked having what was theirs taken without a fight.

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She didn't want to keep making herself miserable.

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"Ever Hill Villa isn't my home. I'm not going back. Poppy seems to like that bed - let her have it."

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"Serena!" The way he said her name made the air freeze between them.

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She paused, then replied coldly, "What?"

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Clint finally looked up from his papers, his tone slower now, more deliberate. "If I told you... that there's nothing going on between me and Poppy - not the way you think - would you believe me?"

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"What?" Serena leaned forward, cupping a hand to her ear. "I'm sorry, did I just hallucinate?"

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"I mean it. Poppy and I, we really-"

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"Hahahaha!" Serena couldn't help it. The laugh burst out of her like a dam breaking. Tears welled in her eyes as she tried to stop, but the absurdity of it all hit her too hard. "Wow, Mr. Beckett, who knew you had such a great sense of humor? You and Poppy aren't like that? Forget what I think - why don't you go ask anyone in your company? See if they buy it."

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Her fingers dug into the edge of the desk. Across from her, Clint's jaw clenched like he was holding something back.

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"I knew you wouldn't believe me."

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"Believe you?" She scoffed. "After everything you've done, you really expect me to fall for this fake sympathy? Clint, I was prepared to walk away and let you two be happy together. And now you're pulling this crap? What do you want from me?!"

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"I didn't-"

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"You didn't?!" Her voice rose. Her chest tightened, fury rushing through her veins. And then the image flashed in her mind - the one burned into her memory. Her babies. Her blood. That final moment before she died.

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She snapped. "If there was nothing going on, then what the hell were you doing in bed with her?! Why didn't you say anything when I caught you both naked?!"

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"I- What?" Clint looked stunned. "That never happened! What are you talking about? Don't make stuff up!"

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His reaction made her stop cold.

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Wait... right. She hadn't walked in on them yet. That scene... that was next year.

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She had forgotten - she wasn't in that life anymore. She had gone back. She was 24 again.

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Swallowing hard, Serena tried to collect herself. "Well," she said with forced calm, "maybe you're just better at hiding it. I haven't seen it yet, but I'm sure you're doing a great job behind my back."

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Clint stared at her, clearly frustrated. "Serena, I really don't know what's going on in your head."

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His silence after that felt like an answer all on its own.

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Serena laughed under her breath and walked over to the desk. Leaning against it, she stared him down.

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"Dragging this out isn't like you, Clint. Let's stop wasting time. Let's get this divorce over with and set each other free. Sound good?"

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"Free?" Clint repeated, snapping his head up. His eyes met hers. "Who ever said divorce was gonna set you free?"

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The words knocked the air out of her lungs.

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What the hell was he talking about? If not freedom, then why bring up divorce at all? Was this some twisted game?

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She frowned, trying to process it, but Clint was calm - infuriatingly calm.

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"Let me guess," she said slowly. "Since you're so in love with Poppy, you want to give her a proper title, right? As long as we're still married, she's just the side piece."

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Clint's gaze dropped. He murmured, barely audible, "That's her problem."

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Her eyes widened. "What did you just say?"

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He quickly turned back to his papers, expression unreadable. "Nothing. I've got work to do. If you're done here, you can go."

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Serena clenched her fists but said nothing. It was clear he wasn't going to give her anything today. If she stayed, it would only get more pathetic.

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She turned to leave, then hesitated at the door. One last glance.

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Clint wasn't reading anymore. He was just staring - eyes wide, panic flashing in them - before he quickly looked away.

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Serena blinked hard, as if trying to shake something off. And when she opened her eyes again, Clint was back to shuffling papers like nothing happened.

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She shook her head, muttering under her breath, "What the hell is going on today? I've been sleeping fine, so why does it feel like I'm losing my damn mind?"

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***

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