"Where is the audit data for the third quarter? Why isn't the report on my desk yet?"

The voice was hoarse, dry, and painful.

Elena jerked her hand, trying to reach for the pile of papers that should have been there. The last thing she remembered was the PT. Orion meeting room, the anger that exploded because the finance manager was hiding the deficit, the sharp pain in her chest, and the cold coffee that spilled on the keyboard.

Then darkness. Death.

So, why was she wet now?

Elena forced her eyes open. The light from the crystal chandelier pierced her retina. Too bright. Too luxurious. This wasn't her office's fluorescent light.

"Damn, hospital?"

She tried to sit up. Her body felt foreign—heavy and sluggish. There was a splash of water. She looked down. She wasn't in her office chair. She was in a tacky gold bathtub, surrounded by bubbles, with smooth, flawless, varicose vein-free slender legs stretched out stiffly.

"What the hell..."

Her brain, which was used to processing millions of dollars of data, was lagging. Her right hand rose to massage her temples, and that was when she saw it. A thick bandage on her left wrist. Blood was seeping out.

Elena narrowed her eyes. She pulled the hand closer, analyzing it like a defective financial report. She opened the bandage with a stiff but steady movement.

"Slit wound. Horizontal. Shallow. Didn't hit the main artery," she analyzed coldly. The corner of her lips lifted cynically. "Amateur. This isn't about dying. This is just attention-seeking. Still had time to bandage it? Stupid."

Whoever owned this body was clearly an inefficient drama queen. If she intended to commit suicide, why choose such a failed method? This was a classic scenario: cut a little, faint prettily, wait for her husband to come home hysterical.

Husband?

Bam. Foreign memories slammed into her head.

Name: Sora Araminta.

Age: 23 years old.

Status: Kairo Diwantara's trophy wife.

Cause of the incident: Overdose of sleeping pills mixed with alcohol and cutting her wrist because her husband hadn't come home for three days.

"Stupid," Elena hissed. "Bad investment."

Elena—the crisis management consultant most feared in the capital, the 'Female Shark' who could devour corrupt CEOs—was now trapped in the body of a spoiled woman who couldn't even hold a knife properly.

She stood up roughly. Water spilled onto the marble floor. Sora's body trembled, weak. Elena hated weakness. She gripped the edge of the gold bathtub.

"Get up. You're not dead. Unfortunately."

She dragged herself out, ignoring the dizziness from the remaining sleeping pills. In front of the sink mirror, she stopped. The reflection made her fall silent. Beautiful, pale white, with fragile round eyes. A face created to be pampered, but to Elena, it looked pathetic.

"Swollen eyes. Pale skin, lacking nutrition. Zero muscle," Elena commented flatly, patting the cold cheek. "No wonder Kairo is disgusted. Who wants to maintain a depreciating asset like this?"

Take a breath. Exhale. Situation: She died from work, came back to life in Sora's body. Solution: Restructuring. Sora's life needed a total audit.

Elena grabbed a thick bathrobe, tying it tightly as if tightening the budget belt, then stepped out of the bathroom. The master bedroom greeted her with excessive luxury. Pastel canopy, thick carpets, and a super-large wedding photo on the wall.

Elena approached. Sora in the photo smiled blankly, hugging a man's arm.

Kairo Diwantara.

Elena narrowed her eyes. She knew that face. Kairo was a "big whale" in her old business world. The type of authoritarian leader who fired half the directors in his first week in office. Dominant. Control freak. And this idiot Sora was trying to manipulate that kind of man with a cheap suicide threat?

"Garbage marketing strategy," Elena scoffed. "You can't pressure a master negotiator with emotion. Pressure him with data. With losses."

BANG!

The bedroom door opened roughly. A maid in a black and white uniform entered with a horrified face.

"Madam!" she shrieked. "Oh my god, Mrs.Sora! You're awake?!"

The maid ran closer, panicking. "Mr. Kairo... Mr. Kairo is on his way home! The security guard said Mr.'s car is already in the gate! Madam has to go back to bed! Pretend to faint again or cry! If Mr. sees Madam standing like this, he'll be angry because Madam is just playing around!"

Elena stared at the maid without expression. So this was the SOP of this house? Wife is sick, maid tells her to act?

"What's your name?" Elena's voice was low, heavy, without a whine.

The maid blinked in confusion. "M... Mina, Madam. Did Madam forget?"

"Mina," Elena interrupted. "Stop screaming. Your voice is pollution."

Mina's jaw dropped. Sora never spoke like that. Sora would usually hug her while crying hysterically. Elena ignored her, walking past Mina towards the single sofa near the window. She sat down, crossed her legs, leaning back with an aura of absolute power.

"But Madam..." Mina still stammered, "Mr. Kairo will be here soon! We have to call the doctor! Or Madam wants to change into that red nightgown..."

"Silence."

One word. Flat. Intimidating.

Mina immediately shut up. Her hair stood on end. Madam Sora's gaze today was different. Empty, sharp, and looking at Mina as if she were a useless insect.

Elena massaged the bridge of her nose. She needed fuel so her sharp brain could work to strategize a way out of this messed-up life balance sheet.

"Listen, Mina. I don't need a doctor. The wound is just a cat scratch, a band-aid will do. I don't need sexy clothes. And I don't care if your husband—I mean my husband—comes home or not."

Elena stared sharply at the maid.

"Go down to the kitchen. Make me black coffee. Americano. Double shot. No sugar. No creamer. It has to be hot."

Mina gaped. "Bl... black coffee? But Madam hates coffee? Madam usually drinks jasmine tea..."

"People change. My taste is bitter coffee now. As bitter as this life," Elena cut her off sarcastically. She pointed to the bedside table. "And one more thing. Get that laptop. Then search in the dressing table drawer, gather all the passbooks, credit card bills, asset ownership certificates, and monthly household expense reports."

Mina's face was as pale as a ghost. "Fi... financial data? What for, Madam?"

Elena smiled thinly. A predator's smile.

"For an audit," she answered briefly. "Do it quickly. If my coffee isn't here in five minutes, you're fired."

The word "fired" worked like magic. Mina backed away in an orderly fashion and ran out of the room in a fluster, forgetting the fact that her employer had just attempted suicide.

The room fell silent again. Elena sighed deeply, leaning her head back. Her eyes stared out the large window, towards the courtyard of the luxurious house below.

A shiny black sedan had just stopped.

The car door opened. A man got out.

From the upper floor, Elena could see the upright posture. A fitted black suit, wide hurried steps. Not worried steps, but steps full of anger ready to explode.

Kairo Diwantara had come home.

Elena glanced at her bandaged wrist, then looked back at the figure of the man below. There was no fear in her eyes, only cold calculation.

"Alright, Mr. CEO," Elena whispered to the window pane. "Let's see how dominant you are when facing a woman who doesn't need your money."

"This... this is your coffee, Madam."

The porcelain cup clinked on the glass table. Mina's hands trembled, spilling a little of the thick, dark liquid. She quickly stepped back, as if afraid of being pounced on.

Elena ignored the fear. She snatched the cup, took a sip. Hot. Bitter. Without sugar. Perfect.

"Not bad," Elena muttered. The caffeine assaulted her nervous system, burning away the fog in her brain. She stared sharply at Mina. "Where's the laptop?"

Mina handed over the thin, rose gold MacBook. "The battery is low, Madam. The charger is nowhere to be found."

Elena snorted. Sora probably thought the laptop was just a dressing table accessory.

"Get out."

"But Mr. Kairo is already in the lobby..."

"Let him be. If he asks, tell him I'm crying blood. Whatever your imagination conjures."

Mina scurried away, closing the door tightly.

Elena opened the laptop. The screen lit up, requesting a password.

"Let's think like an obsessive woman," she muttered.

Wedding anniversary? Access Denied.

Kairo's birthday? Access Denied.

Elena rolled her eyes, typing the most narcissistic combination Sora's lovesick brain could possibly think of.

KairoDarlingForever.

Click. Opened.

"Oh my god," Elena hissed. "Cybersecurity is a big zero. If I were his business enemy, Kairo would be ruined. Idiot."

Ignoring the wallpaper of Kairo's close-up face, Elena's fingers danced nimbly on the trackpad. Browser opened. Internet banking, email, credit card bills. In five minutes, the "Female Shark" went into full audit mode.

"Let's see the financial balance."

She opened the account statements. Incoming: 500 million rupiah per month.

"Quite royal," Elena commented. But her eyes narrowed as she looked at the expenditure column.

Debit: 150 million (Limited edition bag).

Debit: 50 million (Beauty clinic).

Debit: 200 million (Dog's birthday party).

Final balance: USD 354,000.

"Crazy," she cursed roughly. "Income of half a billion, left with three hundred thousand? This is moral bankruptcy! Garbage cash flow management."

She switched to credit cards. Three platinum cards, all maxed out. Total debt of one billion. Elena leaned back, staring at the empty ceiling. She understood why Kairo was disgusted. Sora was a high-risk asset with a negative ROI. If Kairo divorced her tomorrow, this woman would die suffocated by debt.

"Okay, audit conclusion," Elena spoke to herself in a cold tone. "The position as Mrs. Diwantara is unsustainable. Toxic boss, bad work environment, no guarantee of the future."

Elena straightened up. Her eyes flashed.

"I have to resign. But I need severance pay to build my kingdom again."

She opened a word processing application. A blank white page challenged her. Elena didn't write a tearful love letter. She typed in business contract format.

PROPOSAL FOR TERMINATION OF MARRIAGE COOPERATION AND ASSET LIQUIDATION

First Party: Kairo Diwantara.

Second Party: Sora Araminta.

Article 1: The Second Party is willing to relinquish the status of legal wife without complicated property claims, on condition of Full and Final Settlement compensation:

Settlement of all credit card debts (Clearing goodwill in BI Checking is an absolute priority).

One studio apartment in the city center (Strategic residence for work mobility).

Cash of 5 billion as business capital.

For Kairo, whose assets are trillions, 5 billion is pocket change. A cheap price to buy his freedom from a parasitic wife.

"Win-win solution," Elena muttered.

Dug. Dug. Dug.

Heavy footsteps echoed from the corridor. Firm, rhythmic, and full of authority. Sora's physical heart pounded hard due to fearful memory. Elena pressed her chest forcefully.

"Don't be afraid. He's just a man who needs emotional therapy."

Laptop battery 2%. Blinking red.

Elena pressed Print. The old wireless printer in the corner of the room turned on, whirring slowly. Ngiiing... sret... sret...

The sound of footsteps stopped right in front of the door. Silence. Terrifying. Even the dust seemed to stop moving. Elena imagined Kairo behind the door, catching his breath from the anger of having to come home and take care of his dramatic wife.

The printer spat out the last sheet.

Elena snatched the still-warm paper. The resignation letter from the position of wife was ready.

The door handle moved down.

Click.

BRAK!

The door slammed wide open. Cold wind and dark aura burst in.

Kairo Diwantara stood towering in the doorway. White shirt rolled up messily, tie loose, jacket slung over his hand. His face was as handsome as a god, but his expression was as hard as granite. His jet-black eyes burned with the fire of anger.

The sharp gaze swept the room. From the bathtub, to the dressing table, and locked on the sofa near the window.

There, Elena sat cross-legged casually. A cup of coffee on the table, a stack of documents in hand.

Their gazes met. A clash of two dominations.

Kairo expected tears. He expected Sora to hug his legs and beg for forgiveness. But there were no tears. No drama. The woman stared back at him with a clear, calm, and cold look—as if she was assessing the price of his suit.

"You..."

Kairo's voice came out low, dangerous, like the growl of a wild beast. He stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him without breaking eye contact.

"Still have the nerve to look at me like that after the mess you made?"

"Listen, Sora. I don't have all day to deal with your childish behavior."

Kairo slammed the door, echoing through the house, ignoring the fact that his wife had just tried to kill herself. He walked straight towards the sofa, looking down at Elena.

Elena didn't flinch. Her bandaged left hand rested casually on the sofa armrest, her right hand holding warm documents.

"Who asked you to deal with it?" Elena retorted flatly. "I didn't ask you to come home. Just go back to the office, or wherever you usually go when you're sick of seeing my face."

Kairo's steps stopped abruptly. His eyebrows furrowed sharply. Usually, such a harsh sentence would be met with Sora's hysterical crying. But this woman in front of him... looked bored.

"Don't provoke me," Kairo growled. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a checkbook and a gold pen. Sret. He tore off a check.

The paper floated down into Elena's lap.

"Take it," Kairo ordered coldly. "Fill in the amount yourself. Buy bags, buy jewelry, or rent an island. Just stop embarrassing the Diwantara name with this small-town suicide drama."

Elena stared at the blank check. For Sora, this was a ticket to heaven. For Elena, this was a professional insult. She pinched the check with two fingers, as if holding garbage.

"You think everything is settled with this?"

Kairo loosened his tie. "Isn't that your language? Money? Don't be a hypocrite. You married me for money. Take it and be quiet."

"You're right. Money is indeed a universal language," Elena admitted, smiling wryly. "But sorry, Mr. Kairo. The bargaining value of this check is too low for my self-esteem now."

Srek!

Elena crumpled the check into a paper ball, then flicked it right at Kairo's chest. The paper ball bounced off the CEO's expensive shirt, falling and rolling away, worthless.

Kairo's jaw hardened. "You... what do you want? Are you challenging me?"

"Negotiating," Elena interrupted. She stood up, shoving the printed document in front of Kairo's face. "Read."

Kairo brushed it away roughly, but his eyes caught the large title.

PROPOSAL FOR TERMINATION OF MARRIAGE COOPERATION AND ASSET LIQUIDATION

Kairo laughed dryly. "Cooperation? Since when have we cooperated? You're just a parasite clinging to a big tree."

"This parasite is self-aware and wants to get down," Elena replied sharply. "Because our positions are not equal, I'm submitting my resignation."

The word resign sounded foreign. Kairo snatched the document, flipping the pages roughly. His eyes narrowed as he read the points of demand.

Debts paid off. Studio apartment. 5 Billion.

"Five billion?" Kairo snorted cynically. "So this is the price of your life? You cut your wrist just to extort five billion?"

"I'm being realistic," Elena replied calmly. "That's a reasonable severance pay for a year of hard work as your wife. Enduring your coldness, pretending to be happy, taking care of this empty house. You're a stingy boss, Kairo."

"Hard work?!" Kairo slammed the document onto the glass table. Brak! "Your hard work is just maxing out credit card limits and embarrassing me!"

"That's why I'm quitting!" Elena snapped, her voice rising an octave.

She pointed to the document. "I know I'm a bad wife. You hate me. You're disgusted. That's why I'm offering a way out! Sign it, transfer the money, and you won't have to see me again for the rest of your life. We'll talk business in court next week."

Elena stared straight into those jet-black eyes.

"I'm serious. I'm sick of this marriage. I'm sick of you."

The sentence hung in the air.

All this time Sora had always begged for love. Now she says she's sick of it? Kairo's ego was stung. He, Kairo Diwantara, being dumped by his parasitic wife?

"You're sick of it?" Kairo whispered softly, his voice turning dangerous.

He moved forward slowly. His gaze locked onto Elena's lips. Danger alarms were ringing in Elena's head. She tried to back away, but her waist hit the dressing table. Trapped.

"Yes, I'm sick of it," Elena tilted her head up, defiant. "Surprised your wife finally has a brain? Hurry up and sign and get out."

"Your room?" Kairo laughed without humor. "This is my house, Sora. Including you."

Kairo's hand grabbed the document on the table.

Sreeet!

Kairo tore the proposal in two. Then four. Then eight. He destroyed it without blinking.

"That's my work!" Elena protested, trying to grab the scraps of paper that Kairo was now scattering into the air like snow.

"Nonsense," Kairo hissed. "Business? Court? You think it's that easy?"

Kairo slammed both hands on the dressing table, on the left and right sides of Elena's body, trapping her. The scent of musk and masculine anger enveloped Elena.

"You think this marriage is a revolving hotel door? Can come and go as you please?" Kairo lowered his head, his face inches from Elena's face. His black eyes burned possessively.

"You signed a lifetime contract when you forced your way into my family a year ago, Sora."

Elena's heart was pounding because of adrenaline. "Contracts can be cancelled if there's a penalty. I'll pay the penalty. Let me go."

"There is no monetary penalty."

Kairo smiled wryly, cruelly. His hand gripped Elena's chin, forcing her to look up.

"You want to play business? Fine. My first rule: I never let go of my assets. Even if that asset is trash."

He brought his face closer again, whispering hoarsely.

"You want to get out of my cage? Don't dream, darling. The meeting isn't over yet, and you're still mine."