“I want a divorce.”

Now, hearing something like that would evoke standard protocol. Normal people say ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ or ‘If you need anyone to talk to, I’m here for you.’ Maybe they’d even hug the soon-to-be divorcee and wish them well for their future romances.

What they don’t do– what normal, socially adept people don’t do, is mobilize a private army.

From the moment the words left her lips, thundering chaos broke out into the room. Phones were brought out, calls were made, and angry shouts echoed the dining room. Although their speech was going at a rapid-fire pace, Laia could still get the gist of what they were planning to do.

“Wait a minute!” She interrupted.

It wasn’t that she was particularly opposed to the idea, but it would interfere with her plans.

Three out of four Hastings turned to look at her, but her mother went on as if she had never said anything. “Yes, fifteen minutes. Report to me immediately once you’ve surrounded the residence.” The woman kept nodding along to whoever she was talking to. Finally, she looked up to glance at her daughter, “The Norton’s can stand to lose one. He’s replaceable, anyway.”

The rest of her family pipped up in assent.

Laia wasn’t really sure whether she should laugh or cry. The decision between the two instead left her exasperated.

Breakfast had started out like any other. She went down, sat, and proceeded to devour a ridiculously good omelet. Just as everyone was savoring the remnants of their orange juice did Laia think it was alright for her to casually drop a bomb.

Thus, the situation now.

“I need him alive, at least,” she said.

It wasn’t a lie. She double-checked her marriage contract again. It stated that if the other party died through potentially nefarious means, the widow wouldn’t get the other’s properties.

Pity.

“Why do you want a divorce?” Her mother regarded her with cold eyes, “What did he do?”

The timeline of events in her head was too foggy and the details of the present too vague. Seeing as her family hadn’t mentioned the female lead yet, she could only assume that she was near the beginning of the story.

Now, she couldn’t say that she wanted a divorce because the male lead had cheated on her. He might not have done so yet. Seeing her family’s volatile reaction to just an implication of her husband going too far, she could only imagine what they would do to him given a concrete cause.

Both male and female lead were still useful to her alive. She needed to answer carefully, or else she would be putting herself at a loss.

“I’m just… tired.” It was hard for Laia to summon feelings of heartbreak when she didn’t have any. She was trying to summon the same energy as a second male lead in a k-drama. It wasn’t going too well. “I’m tired and I’m angry. I’m really, really angry. At myself. At him,” she paused, looking to the ground for dramatic effect.

“I don’t want to give him anything more.” Laia counted to three before continuing her spiel. “About the divorce, I don’t mean that I’m going to have one now. I just want you guys to know that you’re aware and can prepare for it when the time comes.”

Darren was the first to speak, “Rain-rain? Why drag it out longer if you’re tired?”

“Your brothers right. You have our support to do whatever you want,” her father said.

Laia looked towards her mother. The woman regarded her with thinly-veiled worry. Coughing, she spoke. “I’ve told the army to fall back, but they’re still on standby. Just in case.”

Her grandfather grunted in dispeasure.

Well, things were going as good as they were going to get. She scratched her head; wondering how she was going to transition from this soft atmosphere into one where they could plan a person's demise.

“I’m not going to divorce him,” she began, “I’m going to get him to divorce me.”

Her father scoffed, “As if that twat would dare to. Our family and influence is the only reason why he can stand as his family’s head.”

Laia nodded. With the Norton’s being a family of new money, they didn’t have the same traditions of older business moguls. They operated under the rule of ‘the most capable will spearhead the family,’ versus a line of succession where the eldest sons and daughters would be trained to become the most capable.

Because of the nature of the Norton succession, there were a number of very capable people in that family. Everybody and anybody was willing to do anything to get ahead–and her husband wasn’t an exception. He had only edged out of the competition because of the Hasting’s support. Though this marriage was born by Raine’s selfishness, Alexander got something worthwhile out of it too.

Down the line, she would need to collaborate with his family members.

She got down to the bones of the situation, “I want to get my dowry back.”

It was a surprise to the rest of the people in the room.

“Your dowry?” Her grandfather frowned, “Eh, you don’t need to worry about those things. They’re not important.”

Laia wished she could say that to the system.

“No,” she shook her head, “I don’t want to leave him with anything.”

“Then what are you doing to do?” Her mother asked.

The corner of her lips twitched upwards; the movement so minuscule that it would be easily missed.

She couldn’t write romance to save her life, but war and politics were her stronger points. It would be an understatement to say that she was interested in seeing those tactics being implemented in a CEO romance story. With the face-slapping nature of the genre, it would probably fit right in.

“I could of course, talk with him first. If he’s willing to divorce me then problem solved,” Laia tapped her nails on the table to a steady rhythm. “But, if he doesn’t…” She trailed off.

“What if we found a way to make Alexander believe he didn’t need us anymore? Find him a source of support that he thinks he can rely on, and then ask for a divorce while he’s flying high.”

She had written this character. Although her memory was vague at best, she understood what she had planned to do with him and what his character motivations were.

Everyone had a fatal flaw, his was his ego. Ever since the Hastings came into the picture and barged into his life, he had slowly learnt to suck it up and act according to his interest. However, if she could rouse his self-conceit to the highest possible degree, a little push would be enough to see him plunge face first into the depths of hell.

“Once the papers are settled, we’ll pull the rug from beneath his feet and bleed him dry.”

A moment of silence passed by; the four looking at her with creases between their brows.

“Whew,” Darren chuckled slightly, “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, yeah?”

Her mother tilted her head, “But is that really enough? I think you could do a little bit more.”

“Yeah. There’s a long list of things we can do to him that won’t be permanent if you want him intact,” her grandfather said.

Witnessing them divulge into graphic accounts of torture methods alongside teasing Darren for being too ‘soft,’ two things crossed Laia’s mind.

One, she had been transmigrated into the right family.

Two, she needed a notebook to write everything they were saying down.